Alexandersmap

    Tag: Rick Rubin

    • Expression

      The reason we’re alive
      is to express ourselves in the world.
      And creating art may be the most
      effective and beautiful method of doing so.

      Art goes beyond language, beyond lives.
      It’s a universal way to send messages
      between each other and through time.
      — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      Walk through a museum and inevitably some work calls to us from across the room. We’re drawn in, connecting to the human who created it who may live next door or lived a thousand years ago on the other side of the world. Human connection through art, literature and poetry, music, photography, architecture and engineering or really any expression that is mined deep within and brought to the world binds us now and through time. Artistic expression is thus a time machine.

      It follows that one who makes art may wonder whether their particular expression is enough. Sure, it’s our verse, but why are we making this and not something else? Why do I write a blog post every bloody day, no matter what? Why does a hiker I know spend every free moment redlining the trails of New Hampshire? Why choose a certain career path over another, potentially more profitable career path? We do it because something within us demands that we do it. Each pursuit fulfills something within, making us whole. And in turn we express that outwardly as part of our identity. This is who we are, doing this, at this moment in time. We are trading our precious time to express this pursuit, but feel more alive for having chosen it.

      Throughout life we acquire skills, develop muscle memory, navigate triumph and tragedy, age and learn and grow through the years that we’re given. All of that changes our perspective about what it is to be a human being. If we choose wisely we maximize our experiences along the way, and if we aren’t wise with our time we accumulate regrets for not doing certain things in the time we were given for it. Our reward is perspective. We grow as people and as artists to the level that we open to the experiences of a lifetime.

      The work that we produce is a time stamp of our experiences, created one after the other, indicating who we were when it was created. Our lens of now is forever altering our perspective, and thus alters our expression. When we think back on the person we were ten years ago, do we smile or shudder? The work that we produced, the routine we built our life around at the time, the people we surrounded ourselves with, all brought us here, to this place and time, where we may express ourselves yet again with this newfound perspective. Expression is a gift of our time and perspective to those who choose to use their time to connect with it (and in that connection perhaps alter their own perspective). We owe it to ourselves and our audience to draw out the best we can in the moment.

    • Marking the Path of Being

      “All the bright precious things fade so fast, and they don’t come back.” — from F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

      I love a rainy day with nothing much to do. I find there haven’t been all that many of either rainy days or days without much to do this summer, so savoring the sensation feels right. Let tomorrow bring the crush; today is for too precious to concede to busy.

      The tricky thing about being busy is that we lose the capacity to savor when we’re trying desperately not to drown. There’s no floating with stillness when the waves are choppy and filled with sharks and other drowning people. An angry sea is no place to be. We must seek stillness in our lives if we are to find awareness and peace.

      When we get busy things tend to slip away with time. We focus on the important and urgent instead of the essential few. If it’s important we ought to focus on it, right? I mean, it’s important. And if it’s urgent we don’t have time to debate, we just do. This mindset makes us feel productive, but it forever kicks the essential down the curb.

      “How many pages will be left empty because your process was dampened by doubt and deliberation?” — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      We must develop and nurture our non-negotiables in life. Mine include time to exercise, read, sleep, and yes: to write. If I get enough of these four, then even the stormiest day feels manageable. Writing every day coaxes the busy mind into awareness. To dabble in the essential for an hour, or a few hours, before the angry sea attempts to wash over us is a gift we give to ourselves. What do we make of this accumulation of blog posts and pages written? Will it take us anywhere in the end? It’s taken us this far already, friend.

      A lifetime is an empty and hollow thing indeed if we don’t fill each day with something more than we began it with. What is accumulated is a growing awareness and the willingness to experience and do the things that may come to us if we would only be open to them. These words are simply marking the path of being. How many pages may we fill in a lifetime of deliberate being? There is a hint of an answer revealed here and now.

    • Walls Be Damned

      “Art may only exist, and the artist may only evolve, by completing the work.” — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      I was reading some poetry, thinking that maybe I’d include it in today’s blog, and each poem spoke to me reluctantly—’tis not our day to be turned about in your precious blog. I know a cold shoulder when I encounter one. We must never force the issue, for we’d all know the truth of the matter soon enough. Some days we must simply work our way through our walls without the dance of poetry and song to light our way.

      Ideas come easy. It’s the work to realize them that is difficult. Writing every day is a form of paying penance to the muse, but also a ritual of doing what I said I was going to do, if only for this hour or two before the day washes over me. Excellence is a habit—right Aristotle? Well, this work in progress aspires towards excellence, as we all should in our pursuits, even knowing we will fall short. Ah yes: short, but ever closer. That’s the thing, friend.

      Having completed a blog, having clicked publish, the muse feels satiated and the pressure is off until tomorrow morning, when it will press upon me yet again. But there are other stories to tell, deferred indefinitely. Will those stories pass with me one day, or will I finally bring them to light? That’s the curse of the creative mind, knowing there’s more to tell, but for more time. The only answer is to just do the work—walls be damned. For our time together is only so long, and there’s so very much to bring to light.

    • Using Our Full Kit

      “It’s helpful to remember that when you throw away an old playbook, you still get to keep the skills you learned along the way. These hard-earned abilities transcend rules. They’re yours to keep. Imagine what can arise when you overlay an entirely new set of materials and instructions over your accumulated expertise.” — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      We accumulate skills and wisdom as we learn and grow, stumble and pick ourselves back up again. Step-by-step, we learn more and more about the world and how we may survive and thrive in it. This is part of our curriculum vitae—a part of our identity. We are the kind of person who can do this sort of thing. Skills learned in Microsoft Excel aren’t just transferrable from job-to-job, but those spreadsheet skills are applicable in everyday life as well. And we’re just the sort of person who can pull it off.

      Naturally, this applies to creative writing and personal finance and wiring a new light fixture as well. And physical fitness. And raising children. And speaking a language. And most important of all, following through on what we said we’d do. The person we identity as, the person people come to know us as, is an accumulation of skills and wisdom and follow-through that brought us here, now. And now that we’re here, what comes next? Luckily, we’ve got the momentum of all we bring to the table to help propel us into the future version of us we aspire to become.

      Yesterday, I broke free of 75 days of rigid diet and had some pasta, bread and wine to wash it down. I’d like to say that it was worth waiting 75 days for, but it was simply a good meal, enjoyed with family. The point of it wasn’t to celebrate eating processed carbohydrates again, or drinking alcohol for that matter, it was to mark the occasion of having completed something and resetting the mind and body for what comes next. In short, a little of that stuff, but a lot of what brought me here too. Leading up to that meal I’d already worked out twice, drank a gallon of water, read and wrote. Identity had shifted, but not been eliminated by a glass of wine and a bowl of pasta.

      One of the habits I’ve picked up along the way is tracking my sleep score and correlating it with what I consumed or expended prior to going to bed. On average, I sleep very well. But not last night. It seems that my body didn’t celebrate the return of carbs and alcohol in the same way that my mind did in the moment. More research is clearly needed, but it’s a notable development only seen through the lens of awareness developed through discipline.

      The skills learned in doing anything, including abstaining from consuming food one happens to love, are transferrable. Having laid a foundation of fitness, I may either squander that and slip back into bad habits, or use what I’ve learned to grow more fit, more productive, and more selective about what I consume in caloric and information intake. These are life skills I thought I had already, but wasn’t practicing until I jumped into the deep end with an all or nothing regimen. Lessons learned. Wisdom gained. The trick now is to not waste it by not using it going forward.

      Accumulating skills and wisdom are only valuable if we continue to use them on our path to better. We should be consistently asking ourselves, what is the next big thing for us on our climb to personal excellence? What habits need to change? What skills need to be acquired? And what can we use from all that we’ve done to bring us here to help us get there? On to the next, using our full kit of habits, skills, wisdom and street smarts. Our mindset ought to be progressive accumulation and application of all that we’ve learned, towards that place where we’d like to be. For we’ve only just begun.

    • The Work Itself

      Is it time for the next project
      because the clock or calendar
      say it’s time,
      or because the work itself
      says it’s time?
      — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      I have people in my life who think it’s eery when I can hear someone pull into the driveway when everyone else in the room hears nothing. Yet I struggle to hear people in a crowded room. It’s a different kind of hearing, I believe. The former is more about feeling or sensing a change. The latter is picking out one voice in a crowd and completely hearing that person.

      What does all this mean? Maybe that I’d be a great therapist but a lousy waiter. Or maybe simply that I ought to get my ears checked one of these days. We must learn what our strengths are, but also our weaknesses.

      When we do work that doesn’t matter to us, we feel the grind. Time drags and it all feels meaningless. Even work that once felt exciting changes as we change. We drift from the purpose that brought us there. In that drift, we often find ourselves asking, “Where do we go from here?’ The answer is whispering, but we don’t always hear it.

      When we are wrapped up in work that matters, we sense the path we’re on is the right one. We are attuned to our creative voice or muse as it whispers to us. Sensing it’s what we were meant to do in this moment, transcending time and place. Flow happens. And if we’re lucky, so does that elusive byproduct, magic.

    • Limitations and Openings

      Any framework, method, or label
      you impose on yourself
      is just as likely to be a limitation
      as an opening.
      — Rick Ruben, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      Every morning I wake up and start to think about what I’m going to write about. Routine has brought me to this place, and even if the entire day turns to crap, even if I’m distracted and frustrated by the world around me, even if it feels like this will be the last blog I ever write because I’m just done with the entire process, my mind settles into the rhythm of writing just as soon as my fingers begin to keep up with where my mind is taking them. And here we are again.

      This blog is not taking the world by storm. I’m under no illusion of grandeur about my place in the lives of its readers, or the number of ripples these thoughts and words will carry across space and time. I write because I fancy myself both a thinker and a writer, and it follows that one ought to jot down what one is thinking about, if only to see where it takes us.

      The question is, does the process take us to a breakthrough, or are we simply going around in circles? Is the very act of blogging a limitation on other writing that isn’t being done because the mind is satiated every morning at around this time? And what other habits and routines would take the place of writing, should it be relegated to later in the day? Would the writing slip like workouts slip?

      We’re caught in a trap
      I can’t walk out
      Because I love you too much, baby
      — Elvis Presley, Suspicious Minds

      We know when it’s time for a change. But how often does knowing lead to doing? Identity is built on the habits and routines we create our days with. And our days in turn become our lives. We ought to ask ourselves when we’ve finished writing and click publish, is this process a limitation for me or an opening? Just where are we going anyway?

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    • Calibrating for Greatness

      “If you make the choice of reading classic literature every day for a year, rather than reading the news, by the end of that time period you’ll have a more honed sensitivity for recognizing greatness from the books than from the media.
      This applies to every choice we make. Not just with art, but with the friends we choose, the conversations we have, even the thoughts we reflect on. All of these aspects affect our ability to distinguish good from very good, very good from great. They help us determine what’s worthy of our time and attention…
      The objective is not to learn to mimic greatness, but to calibrate our internal meter for greatness. So we can better make the thousands of choices that might ultimately lead to our own great work.” — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      We have the opportunity to do something with our lives. We may reach closer to personal excellence (arete) and achieve that which we’d only imagined. Arete looks different for each of us, but we know when we see a glimmer of it in those who rise to meet it. And it stands to reason that if we wish to get closer to personal excellence ourselves, we must also rise to meet greatness where it resides. We must climb beyond where we’ve been and work towards it.

      I have some exceptional people in my life who are currently outraged by the things happening in the United States. I grow quiet when they talk about it, not because I’m not also outraged, but because focusing on the worst in others takes our focus away from our own climb to greater things. It recalibrates us for outrage.

      The point isn’t to ignore it all and just let it fester, it’s to grow into one’s own potential. We are what we focus on the most. We mustn’t be dragged down by putrefaction and the strategic dismantling of our higher collective vision. We are builders of greatness—don’t ever lose sight of that. We must take to the heights, now more than ever.

      The heights by great men reached and kept
      Were not attained by sudden flight,
      But they, while their companions slept,
      Were toiling upward in the night.
      — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Ladder of St. Augustine

      This is a time in our lives when we may achieve greatly, whatever that means for us. The world is more frustrating than ever, but it’s always been so. In our darkest days of human history, those who would reach for personal excellence found a way to climb. And so too must we in our time.

      Climbing requires energy and a level of focus that comes from inspiration. We are what we repeatedly do, and surely we are also what we repeatedly consume. To actualize excellence, to bring it into existence within ourselves and our work, we must develop a taste for it. Nurture a deep hunger to do more with our brief time before it all goes away. We may find excellence throughout human history, including today. There it all is, hiding in plain sight: we must simply lift our gaze to find it. Having seen it in others and in their contribution, we may then climb to meet it ourselves.

    • The Beautiful Path

      No matter what tools you use to create,
      the true instrument is you.
      And through you,
      the universe that surrounds us
      all comes into focus.
      — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      I’m a blogger. That part may be obvious to those reading this. I’m drawn to writing and inclined to seeing where it brings me. We all find ways to express ourselves, and in choosing a path of expression, we become aware of all that surrounds us. With that awareness, we discover how others are using their form of expression to bring the universe to us in their own way. Like the Great Conversation for writers, all art is iterative. We build off of the work of others and find our own verse to contribute.

      Focus comes from awareness, and awareness comes from pace of life. When we are creative we are choosing to meander down the beautiful path while the rest of the world zips past at reckless speeds. Walk through a forest and we see every mushroom and fern, we smell the earth and feel the trees come alive. Drive past it and what do we see but the road in front of us?

      The world feels a little reckless lately. We cannot control the world, but we can control what we choose to focus on. Focus on building bridges, even as others work to tear them down. Write books, even as others work to ban them. Create beauty in a world rushing from one indignant outrage to the next. The beautiful path isn’t exclusively ours, it opens up to anyone with the key of awareness. Our creative work may in turn help others find their own. The beautiful path isn’t exclusive to creatives, it opens up to anyone open to finding it. So help them see.

    • Urgency Applies

      “The reason to finish is to start something new.” — Rick Rubin

      To finish what we started ought to be the goal for every project, but we know the truth isn’t so pretty. We bounce between projects, finishing some, but too often drag others along forever for want of attention. It’s all prioritization and focus, lest the forces conspiring against us wash over our lives and that project we were once so excited about gets flushed away like so many schemes and dreams. As with life itself, urgency applies to projects. Do it now.

      Starting something new is exciting. We dance with possibilities: discovering and enhancing and dancing with the light that shines through our eyes and lights up our work. Like a cold mountain stream, it’s invigorating and full of momentum. It’s only downstream, where things slow down and sometimes stagnate, where that project grows tedious. Momentum is everything, and we maintain it through focused attention. Deep channels flow relentlessly fast, shallow deltas slow and sometimes flow backwards with the whim of the tide.

      That new project ought to be a reward for having finished the previous project, not yet another distraction from it. Surely urgency applies to the things we wish to accomplish in this lifetime. We must finish what we’ve started, that we may begin again with the fresh perspective and skills developed from the last brought to the next.