Alexandersmap

    Tag: David Whyte

    • That Fierce Embrace

      It doesn’t interest me if there is one God
      or many gods. I want to know if you belong or feel
      abandoned.
      If you know despair or can see it in others.
      I want to know if you are prepared to live in the world
      with its harsh need to change you. If you can look back
      with firm eyes saying this is where I stand. I want to know
      if you know how to melt into that fierce heat of living
      falling toward the centre of your longing. I want to know
      if you are willing to live, day by day, with the consequences of love
      and the bitter
      unwanted passion of your sure defeat. I have been told, in that fierce embrace, even
      the gods speak of God.

      — David Whyte, Self Portrait

      To be ourself in a world that expects acceptance, or at the very least acquiescence, is audacious. Mothers, wanting the very best for their babies, might call it reckless. Best to fall in line, get a proper degree, leading to a proper job, offering a proper life. ‘Tis proper, we’re trained to believe, to focus on the score. Grades and status and titles and the right zip code.

      The score is memento mori. The score is tempus fugit. If we are to melt into that fierce heat of living, we must go against the grain more often than our tribe may be comfortable with. They only want the best for us. We know this, and we must learn to be bold anyway. A lifetime is far too short for all that we want for ourselves, let alone all that our tribe expects of us.

      The real question, the one we’ve avoided all along in this tribal dance, is why won’t we simply embrace it?

    • Practicing Significance

      “No matter the self-conceited importance of our labors we are all compost for worlds we cannot yet imagine.” ― David Whyte

      To be progressing in one part of our lives is meaningful, but incomplete if we aren’t also making strides in the rest of our lives. Balance, as they say, is the key. Progress in fitness and nutrition bodes well, but we can’t ignore our intellectual development while we hone our body into shape. We cannot be a champion of personal excellence if we aren’t reaching beyond ourselves to help others reach theirs, for we are all in this together, even when we sometimes wish to simply go it alone. Some aspire to make a dent in the universe, some aspire to write their own verse. Each is a way to make our brief time dancing with life more meaningful and lasting (in the form of a legacy of contribution).

      There’s no denying that a career is a large and meaningful part of life. If I’ve had any success in business it was built on listening to the needs of others and finding answers. People want to feel they’re being listened to. The world is simply looking for someone to get back to them. We reach out to others, expect an answer or at the very least a timely response, and hope for resolution to whatever started the transaction. Those who follow through are quietly powerful agents of trust and belief. We learn who can be relied upon and follow them throughout their careers. That network of trusted alliances is the foundation, not just of a strong career but a life of significance.

      Each day is an opportunity for connection. Checking in with people just to see how they’re doing, working to solve problems that arise, lending an ear when it’s all that someone needed in that moment—these are how we maintain lifetime bonds with our fellow time travelers. Achievement looks nice on a resume but is shallow on its own. Significance has deeper roots, and allows for growth beyond the individual.

      What do we practice in our daily lives? Looking beyond ourselves is the path to significance and purpose. This may seem out of touch with the current vibe in the world, but what will we remember in the end of our time on earth? How will we be remembered by those who survive us?

    • Witnesses of a Lifetime

      “But no matter the medicinal virtues of being a true friend or sustaining a long close relationship with another, the ultimate touchstone of friendship is not improvement, neither of the self nor of the other, the ultimate touchstone is witness, the privilege of having been seen by someone and the equal privilege of being granted the sight of the essence of another, to have walked with them and to have believed in them, and sometimes just to have accompanied them for however brief a span, on a journey impossible to accomplish alone.” — David Whyte, Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words

      Some people come into our life and remain active participants in our journey. Some fade away with the release of the common interests that once held us together. There are friendships based on convenience and friendships based on choice. We learn in time who will walk beside us through the years.

      Recently I’ve heard from an old friend whom I thought was drifting away. It seems they were simply busy doing other things, just as I was. Friendships are different from marriages and the relationship we have with teammates in work or sport. Friendships cross the chasm of time and place like stepping stones we land upon on our journey—something solid and trustworthy with which to ground ourselves. And we in turn ground them. We all need something solid in a life so often fluid and uncertain.

      “One of us will see all the funerals, one of us will see none, and one will have none of us at theirs.” — Anonymous

      The thing is, lifetimes don’t last forever. Memento mori. We’ll all pass eventually, and too soon. We must train ourselves to put the troubles of the world aside and be present and aware in our time together. For each moment with true friends offers the blessing of companionship and memory. We are witnesses to each other’s lives, but also active participants in each other’s. So onward, together now and then through this maddening world, for as long as fate allows.

    • Basking In It

      “Time is not slipping through our fingers, time is here forever, it is we who are slipping through the fingers of time.” — David Whyte, Time

      I was texting with a friend who is struggling to balance work with a toddler. She’s prioritizing appropriately, and to use her words, basking in it every day. And shouldn’t she? The diapers and sleepless nights will soon slide into recitals and homework, which will slip into college tours and wedding announcements.

      Tempus fugit: time flies. But when we turn that around and look at it as Whyte has shown us, we realize it’s been us all along, slipping into infinity. This can be depressing or beautiful, depending on how we choose to spend that time. So bask away, friend. Let those grains of sand tickle a little as they flow past in such a hurry.

    • The Side of Good

      When we fight with our failings, we ignore
      the entrance to the shrine itself and wrestle
      with the guardian, fierce figure on the side of good.
      — David Whyte, The Faces of Braga

      I have work to do. I’ve promised myself I’d row every day this month to counter the accumulating calories of the holidays. It’s the 23rd day of December and that promise mocks me like all the broken promises I’ve made before. When you break a promise to yourself the dark mind piles on, bringing up other promises unkept. We are our own worst critic, as the saying goes. We tell others that nobody is perfect while beating ourselves up every time we fall short.

      Still, we are good despite our failings, and better at some things than we were yesterday. We are each on our climb to personal excellence. Nobody said this would be easy, friend. Like the trail to a mountain summit, we must remind ourselves that the path is never straight, often descends and turns away from the goal, but will always carry us to our destination if we just put one foot in front of the other and stick with the path that brings us there.

      Our aim isn’t that evasive perfection but a good life, full of meaning and contribution and direction. Washboard abs might bring some of us happiness, but chances are if our habits aren’t supporting those abs it isn’t a summit we really want to climb. The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time, as James Taylor put it. Being fit is certainly going to make our passage easier to navigate, but we mustn’t forget that the secret is the enjoying part. Sure, the rowing hasn’t been there, but the walking has, and presence with people who matter a great deal. We all have our collection of daily wins and shortcomings. Which way the scale tips is often a matter of perspective.

    • Stepping Into Change

      So let this winter
      of listening
      be enough
      for the new life
      I must call my own.
      — David Whyte, The Winter of Listening

      I met a friend for a pint yesterday. It turned into a small pub crawl between two breweries as the crisp air filled with swirling snow. We talked of the familiar and the forever changing as the snow accumulated and the town roads clogged with drivers uncertain about what to do when the world turns white again. With a nod to the familiar we needed to return to, we cut our reunion short and joined the other drivers while our heads were still clear enough to join the fray.

      Snowflakes melt on the back of my neck as I moved the brush around the truck, feeling my footing on snowy concrete with the anticipation of slippery roads. Like any skill that’s been dormant for some time, walking and driving on icy roads is muscle memory. It all comes back quickly, we just need to take it slowly while the rust clears. We’ve been together before, the winter whispers reassuringly, and sure enough one tentative step brings us to the next and soon we’re safely home again.

      December often hints at changes to come in our lives. Mine is no exception; change has whispered in my ear for months. When the world starts swirling with the forever changing, we may carry the reassurance of having been here before. The landscape may change in disorienting ways, but we’ve developed the skills to navigate this new world safely on our journey of becoming. Keep a clear head and listen for what whispers. Stepping into change is nothing new for us.

    • That Which Brings You Alive

      Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
      confinement of your aloneness
      to learn
      anything or anyone
      that does not bring you alive
      is too small for you.
      — David Whyte, Sweet Darkness

      I’ve been on the receiving end of a few calls in the last week. People who I’ve worked with, befriended and sometimes mentored. I tend to listen well when all someone wants is for someone to listen. We all need that now and then, don’t we? The world is full of people who call out in the darkness. I believe that it can always use more people who answer that call.

      We’re closing in on the darkest day of the year in the northern hemisphere. I don’t mind darkness so much. I wear it like an old flannel shirt that becomes a part of us over time. I view the seasons for what they are and the changes they bring, and work to be present in it. Still, the days are very short this time of year. And for a lot of people, all that time in the dark makes the absences feel more apparent. What is missing is as much a part of who we are as what we have.

      We make the most of our situations, hopeful that things will somehow change, looking for a spark in the darkness from which we may find our way. Sometimes we overstay our time in the dark, simply because we get used to living in it. We forget sometimes that this is our one go at things. If something or someone isn’t making us feel alive, surely it’s slowly killing us. That lesson is apparent when we escape the darkness, but hard to see when we’re in it.

      Just as a match requires friction to create a spark, choosing joyful connection over isolation is a path to the light. Like attracts like, the law of attraction insists, and we find that we aren’t so alone after all. That which brings us alive is our lifeline to enlightenment and fulfillment. We shouldn’t waste a second holding on to anything else.

    • The Past Is Not the Past

      “One of the things the Irish say is that ‘The thing about the past is, it’s not the past.’ [laughs] It’s right here, in this room, in this conversation.” — David Whyte & The Conversational Nature of Reality, On Being with Krista Tippett

      We who experienced it will always remember September 11th for all it was and would be for each of us. For me, September 12th is another day to reflect on, as the day my favorite Navy pilot left this earth. At least that’s the story we tell ourselves, but we know he’s been whispering in our ear ever since then. He’s smiling that scheming smile even as I write this, making it impossible not to smile back at him. He didn’t leave our family for us to mope around forever, but to do something with the life we still have pulsing through our veins. Just make it memorable, I hear him say.

      For those of us who pay attention, the past is not the past. It lives within us, sometimes recessed and awaiting its moment to leap back onto center stage, sometimes stumbled upon as we leaf through old photographs and letters, and sometimes seen in a sideways glance that reminds you of the sideways glance someone else in your past once gave you, demonstrating that they’ve been here all along waiting for that moment to shine a light back to the living. Life energy bounces around in this universe, and sometimes those ricochets hit us squarely when we least expect it.

      To sink into reflection is not to grieve again, not after time smooths the rough edges, it’s to savor the finish, like a fine wine that has aged well. We open the memories like we open up a great bottle of wine, and let it breath awhile before pouring a glass. If we know wine we know to savor the sip, but to appreciate the aftertaste, or finish. The wine has been consumed, but the finish remains. Life is similar, isn’t it? Those who come into our lives become a part of us, and speak through us and others they’ve touched. We hear the echoes of the past all around us, leaving us but still very much here. Alive within us and through us, always.

    • Something New

      Above the mountains
      the geese turn into
      the light again

      Painting their
      black silhouettes
      on an open sky.

      Sometimes everything
      has to be
      inscribed across
      the heavens

      so you can find
      the one line
      already written
      inside you.

      Sometimes it takes
      a great sky
      to find that

      first, bright
      and indescribable
      wedge of freedom
      in your own heart.

      Sometimes with
      the bones of the black
      sticks left when the fire
      has gone out

      someone has written
      something new
      in the ashes of your life.

      You are not leaving.
      Even as the light fades quickly now,
      you are arriving
      — David Whyte, The Journey

      On the 4th of July I walked out onto the deck, stepped down the first stair and noticed a sag in the decking. You know exactly what the story is in such moments, the question was the extent of wood rot in the joists under the decking. It turned out to be not all that much and a quick trip to the home improvement box store for some new pressure treated lumber solved the issue. Time had crept up on the joist, which I distinctly remember building beyond the code at the time. Time is indifferent to such things.

      Life is change. We know this. Sometimes the change is more apparent than at other times. Sometimes it’s thrust upon us by circumstance, sometimes it creeps over us so slowly that we don’t notice it until we look around and everything is different. We may choose how to react in such moments, but we may agree it’s far better to be surfing the edge of the wave than washed over by it.

      The thing is, walking down that step on that day felt different already. Because I’m different, and the people who have used those steps are all different too. Too many have moved on forever. We may mourn the passing of time and the changes it brings or work our way up to the edge and surf it. We choose how we react to the changes in our lives. Something new may be debilitating or exhilarating, depending on how we interact with the wave. Be inclined to embrace the thrill of change for the duration, for it’s rolling either way.

    • To Rest

      “The template of natural exchange is the breath, the autonomic giving and receiving that forms the basis and the measure of life itself. We are rested when we are a living exchange between what lies inside and what lies outside, when we are an intriguing conversation between the potential that lies in our imagination and the possibilities for making that internal image real in the world; we are rested when we let things alone and let ourselves alone, to do what we do best, breathe as the body intended us to breathe, to walk as we were meant to walk, to live with the rhythm of a house and a home, giving and taking through cooking and cleaning. When we give and take in an easy foundational way we are closest to the authentic self, and closest to that self when we are most rested. To rest is not self-indulgent, to rest is to prepare to give the best of ourselves, and to perhaps, most importantly, arrive at a place where we are able to understand what we have already been given.” — David Whyte, Rest

      Some weeks are busier than others. Some are more restful than others too. This past week was more the former than the latter. In the natural ebb and flow of life, I enter the weekend focused on rest and recovery. Perhaps I’ll find it, but then again, I’m back to writing before the dawn.

      Many Americans aren’t particularly good at rest. We charge along, even on our days off, trying to make the most of our time. We forget sometimes the exchange, as Whyte so eloquently reveals: to rest is to prepare to give the best of ourselves. Rest is not self-indulgent, yet we so often believe it to be so.

      To view rest as a natural exchange is to acknowledge that the work will come again, but not just yet. There is a time for everything, including rest. The work will surely be there when we return to it. So if you begin to wonder what I’m up to loafing around so much, remember that I’m not being lazy today: I’m preparing.