Alexandersmap

    Tag: Philosophy

    • Keeping On

      I don’t want to wait anymore I’m tired of looking for answers
      Take me some place where there’s music and there’s laughter
      I don’t know if I’m scared of dying but I’m scared of living too fast, too slow
      Regret, remorse, hold on, oh no I’ve got to go
      There’s no starting over, no new beginnings, time races on
      And you’ve just gotta keep on keeping on
      — First Aid Kit, My Silver Lining

      At a work event this week I looked around the room at the characters in the play. I’ve known them all so long, and yet only know a few of them very well. Some of the older characters talk of retirement and moving on, some of the younger characters openly plot their next move. I don’t play either of those parts, yet I’m still in the game.

      Building something tangible in our lives is really nothing more than showing up every day and being an active player. Life is humbling and teaches us we can’t have it all, and some will have more than perhaps they deserve. There are things we simply can’t control in this world, yet so much we can influence when we apply energy and focus on what matters most.

      We know when we’re running hard. When we’re pushing ourselves into new places. And we know when we ease off more than we should. Life is this balance, lived on the tightrope of commitments and aspiration while the winds of change swirl around us. Putting one foot in front of the other is really the only way forward. Still, we must ask ourselves, are we moving in the right direction? When should we follow another line?

    • A Thing Promised

      Who hasn’t thought, “Take me with you,”
      hearing the wind go by?
      And finding himself left behind, resumed
      his own true version of time
      on earth, a seed fallen here to die
      and be born a thing promised
      — Li-Young Lee, To Life

      We feel the urgency to live, feel it deeply within. We see the days go by so rapidly—blink and you’ll miss it quick—and something wells up inside of us to do something with the moment. Before it’s gone forever. Each moment matters, the moments of inertia just the same as the moments of peak performance (whatever that might mean for us). We are the sum of each, collected in our time, defining our lives.

      Each of us wrestles with the desire for more against the desire to savor what we have already. This restlessness is expressed in different ways, varying from bucket list experience-checking to home improvement projects to staying up all night to read a page-turner, or perhaps binge-watching a favorite show just to know how it ends. What satiates this restlessness? When do we linger a beat longer?

      As we accumulate experience, we naturally want more of it. To leave this world with boxes unchecked seems a waste. But rushing off to the next big thing usually means missing the best part of the big thing we’re already living in. The moments that are locked in the amber of our memories are those moments we paused a beat and payed attention. Dwelling in place and time offers opportunities to add layers of experience too.

      Seeds are often carried by the wind, but grow in place. Aren’t we the same? Our best relationships with people and place are developed over time. Our promise in this lifetime is fulfilled with our presence.

    • Analog and Delightful

      Change is good, but it can also be a pain in the ass. This is exemplified by the forced version upgrades Apple puts us through before we can resume our regularly scheduled activity. Microsoft has their own version of upgrade hell, and I’ve recently undergone the process of re-learning everything I thought I knew about Microsoft Office when I was issued a new laptop PC for work. There’s something to be said for pen and paper in this constantly changing world of technology.

      If I sound like an old dog, well, forgive me. I pride myself on keeping up, I just prefer choosing the time and place for when my world is turned upside down. Tech doesn’t work that way. Critical updates and staying a step ahead of the bad guys is paramount, and [sorry, but] f**k your feelings, friend. It’s not about us with tech, it’s about the greater good versus the underlying bad. Here we are, buttercup; embrace the suck. Amor fati.

      The thing we must accept is that the people building all these tech tools love to fiddle around with this Pandora’s box. The rest of us, simply wanting efficiency in our lives, are along for the ride. Once we’re on the ride, we’re on. Buckle up and mind your hands. No loose items allowed. Carpe diem.

      I’ve been telling myself that the blog site needs an upgrade for a long time now. While acknowledging that fact, I nonetheless avoid doing anything about it because there is pain associated with that change. Ah, yes, the excuses: I’ll have to learn new things and I don’t have time to learn right now. Re-designing the blog will be disruptive and inherently full of risk. All I really care about is writing and sharing that writing every day, what’s the point of a forklift upgrade on the web site?

      Sooner or later, we have to rip off the bandaid. Technology will continue to evolve to torture us, er, to make our lives easier. We must learn to keep pace. We aren’t old dogs, friends, we’re surfers riding the bleeding edge of technology wherever it takes us. As with most tech, it will end up in the recycling center, dusty and forgotten, soon enough. Memento mori. But that’s then, this is now. Just do it. Just remember to change your password to something impossible to remember, er, hack.

      One of the small joys I have each day is taking out my bullet journal and tracking my progress on tasks, streaks and long-term goals. It’s all so very analog and delightful. I like to think of myself as technologically savvy, but I’m just fooling myself. All this technology is a means to an end, the rest is just a game played by someone else’s rules. Give me simplicity. For deep down, I just want to be analog and delightful too.

    • Back to the Garden

      And maybe it’s the time of year
      Yes, and maybe it’s the time of man
      And I don’t know who I am
      But life is for learning
      We are stardust, we are golden
      We are billion-year-old carbon
      And we got to get ourselves
      Back to the garden
      — Joni Mitchell, Woodstock

      At first I thought it was simply the snow melting while I was away. The place looks different, I thought. Some of the usual winter cleanup to do, fallen leaves and an abundance of fallen branches litter the lawn and garden. Some wood rot on the pergola that must finally be addressed this season. Some fallen trees that ought to be cut up for firewood before mud season arrives in earnest. Yes, this must be what’s different about the place, I thought again. Spring cleanup and such.

      We know when we’ve been away too long from the garden. There are things to be done. Things that bring us back to the earth. Things that ground us. Seasons work on us in profound ways. It’s not just the place that’s changed, but me. I’m not the person I was when winter began—are you? We’ve all change in ways big and small. What are we to do when we understand this about ourselves but to lean in to our best possible outcome in this next season?

      It occurred to me that I didn’t even know what stage the moon was in late last night. There was a time when I knew where every planet was in relation to where I was standing. The universe marches on whether we pay attention to it or not. Sometimes, in our frenzied and productive lives, we forget to be a part of things. Sometimes we forget who we are. What our place in the universe is. But life is for learning, and a new season is upon us.

      Gardens and sweat equity, pets and poetry, walks in the woods and wonder at the stars: each offer an opportunity to find our stride once again. As Whitman would prod, this powerful play goes on, and we may just yet contribute a verse. Has everything changed? Always. But while we go on, we might play a part.

    • Desert Decisions

      Caffeine and alcohol hit you a bit differently in the desert. The desert sucks you dry. Here, you’re always skating the line between chaos and disorder with dehydration already. Pour in some stimulants or depressants and see how it goes. Looking around Las Vegas, it seems it often goes badly.

      Las Vegas can be invigorating and off-putting all at once. Jaw dropping moments occur regularly, from the extraordinary talent of the performers here, the sheer decadence on display, the choices some people make balancing their wardrobes with other decisions they’ve made in their lives, or the gritty, desperate living death of those cast aside all around you. You see things you want to see in Vegas, but good god you see things you you never wanted to see too.

      The desert dryness is catching up with me, but so too is immersion in this place. I’ve spent a lot of my ration of days in a place I’m completely ambivalent about. Life is very much encapsulated in Las Vegas. We can live boldly or slide sideways off track. For all the incredible, wonderful people making something for themselves here, there are others who descend into the abyss. If this city teaches you anything, it’s that we become what we focus on, one decision built on the next.

    • Trust, but Verify

      “Most people, in fact, will not take the trouble in finding out the truth, but are much more inclined to accept the first story they hear.” — Thucydides

      We live in a world where sound bites and headlines are the primary news source for far too many people. Monetization of blue checks on Twitter seem to be the topic du jour, calling into question exactly who is telling you what. Artificial Intelligence (AI) is accelerating exponentially into our new [un]reality. What we see doesn’t always measure up to what we hear. In these moments, trusting the information we consume without verifying its validity places us in peril.

      There have always been scammers and charlatans, the only thing new is the tools of their trade. It’s possible to release a lie into the universe that can be believed to be true by millions. It happens every moment already. Diligence and trust are harder work than simply believing what we’re told, but don’t we owe it to ourselves and our future to try a bit harder to see beyond the face of what we’re told?

      Our lives are the stories we tell ourselves. This works equally well for the individual as it does for mankind. So just what kind of story do we want to believe? Trust, but verify.

    • By the Handful

      ‘You only go around once in life, and I’m going to grab a handful of it.’ — Steve McQueen

      The world is not back to “normal” post-pandemic, for there’s an increased state of madness and fragility buzzing around us all, but it’s clear that people are living larger lives. Who’s to blame them? Shouldn’t we be grabbing our handful of bold and earnest living in the face of it all? This is our time. Carpe diem.

      Las Vegas offers hope and distraction and a chance to step out of ourselves, just a little bit, and try new things. Sometimes those things are big and bold. Sometimes it’s a $10 dollar mechanical bull ride. Watching a line of buzzed glory riders ride the mechanical bull at Gilly’s late into the evening, I was struck by the parallel to McQueen’s statement. Each character climbed aboard, tucked one hand firmly onto the grip, the other high in the air and went for their crazy ride. Each held on for their time and no more. The bull always wins in the end. Still, the riders declared that we can each make something glorious before we’re thrown.

    • The Chill Lane

      “Those whom God wishes to destroy, he first makes angry.” — Euripides

      Commuting was never my thing, but sometimes you’ve just gotta do what you’ve gotta do. When I was not very much younger, I used to grow angry at the neat rows of brake lights in front of me. Likewise, a red light when there was nobody else at the intersection would drive me crazy. My bride rolls her eyes when I detour a different way to avoid some particular egregious traffic lights. I still have a deeply engrained habit of active avoidance of traffic lights, and have stated I’ll move out of the town I live in the moment they install them. I may just be posturing, but still, there’s a grain of truth in every jest.

      Really, it’s a control thing. Traffic and traffic lights are mostly out of my control, which hints at the deeper truth that most of life is out of our control. So what’s the solution? Amor fati — Love of fate. Simply put, focus on the things that you can control, accept the rest, and stay in the chill lane.

      Anger is weakness, displayed. It will be our undoing if we let it be. So don’t let it be. As we learn and grow we come to see the world differently, and see the folly of the angry life. To reach our potential in this life we must remain clear on our purpose and avoid the petty distractions some bad commute or bad civil engineering might stir up. It’s all relative, of course, and none of this matters when we look at the bigger picture. Amor fati, friend.

    • Insist on Color

      “I don’t trust the answers or the people who give me the answers. I believe in dirt and bone and flowers and fresh pasta and salsa cruda and red wine. I don’t believe in white wine; I insist on color.” ― Charles Bowden (Via Outlawspoetic)

      There are surely shades of gray that warrant discussion, for there’s a place for nuance in this complicated world. But give me color. Give me personality and vibrancy. Give me that jolt that knocks me off my complacency when I encounter something out of the ordinary.

      There’s a reason humans seek out sunsets and the aurora borealis, knock down doors to see Van Gogh or sing about pink houses. We humans crave brightness and a rich color palate. Life is full of enough muted living; give us bold.

      This blog was started as a lens on a particular corner of the world I happen to love. It’s grown as my attention shifted, as I’ve changed. What comes next is anyone’s guess, but expect colorful wherever we go.

      Early Morning Orange

    • Others

      “In order to be the person I want to be, I must strive, hourly, against the drag of the others.” — Mary Oliver, Sand Dabs, Four*

      Some of them mean well, wanting nothing but the best for us. Some don’t care a lick about what we want, only that a glow might reflect on them. Some mean us nothing but harm in their own devious way, feelings born in some moment of contempt. We learn who some of these characters are over time. Some we go to our graves believing are one but are really the other. In the end they may scarcely matter, or they may matter a great deal. It depends, always, on us.

      We must find our own way. Sometimes this is with the help of others, sometimes despite them. We can’t be carried to our potential, we must reach for it ourselves. This is how we grow into the person we want to become.