Alexandersmap

    Tag: Tempus Fugit

    • Third Things

      “Third things are essential to marriages, objects or practices or habits or arts or institutions or games or human beings that provide a site of joint rapture or contentment. Each member of a couple is separate; the two come together in double attention. Lovemaking is not a third thing but two-in-one. John Keats can be a third thing, or the Boston Symphony Orchestra, or Dutch interiors, or Monopoly.” — John Hall, The Third Thing

      We have our self, we have our selves, and we have what we are mutually focused on in our time together. Like being on teams, whether sports or companies or projects worked on with mutual focus and effort, that thing we focus on together becomes a link that bonds us in the moment and forever after. A long-term relationship is simply coexisting with someone else with mutual attention on a series of third things we carry with us for the rest of our days.

      Our hiking friends have the mountains and expanding red lines on trail maps as their third thing. Our sailing friends scheme of bigger boats and tropical anchorages. Our lake friends are quietly carving out a life as snowbirds and the idea of growing old in a forever summer lifestyle. My sister and brother-in-law have found pickleball a useful third thing bringing them fitness and an expansive social life. We’re all different, and so too are the things we give our lives to in mutual focus.

      Third things capture a time in our life that we’ll remember one day when the math is no longer one plus one plus one more thing. We may be aware of such things as subtraction without dwelling on it. We all know the score. For it’s a thing too. Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today…

      What do we—together—focus on other than ourselves? The list comes easily at times. The frisbee-loving pup. The house and whatever the latest project is that my bride has deemed essential to our well-being. Always, the children, then aspiring student-athletes, now adults. Increasingly, the parents, and all that aging parents mean for them… and for us. Travel and collecting experiences once deferred for other third things. Third things are our common ground, focused on together yet differently. A part of us, yet not us.

    • Do Your Thing

      “I myself think that the wise man meddles little or not at all in affairs and does his own things.” — Chrysippus

      We have a serious issue on our hands. There is simply not enough time today to do all that we might do. Spending time on anything is serious business when we recognize how little of it we have left to spend.

      Knowing that time is our precious currency in a brief life, why do we carelessly toss it away on things beyond our control? The affairs of others is not our concern when those affairs are beyond our control. We ought to use this time more wisely, lest we fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way. Hum the tune, but hear the message.

      Just look at how we burn through this very time thinking too much about how to use it. That’s the philosopher’s curse. To be or not to be, that really is the question. But remember to be now, for there is no later. So stop thinking so much and do your thing. Tomorrow will be far too late in the game for such things.

    • Shake the Grass

      And the days are not full enough
      And the nights are not full enough
      And life slips by like a field mouse
      Not shaking the grass.
      — Ezra Pound

      There is a compulsion to fill my days and nights with experience. Perhaps you share this too. There is an equally pressing sense that time is slipping past us at shocking speed. Tempus fugit. We humans are bound to notice it eventually.

      Forever chasing experience. Forever working to be here, now. It’s a blessing and a curse to be aware. Mostly a blessing, for awareness offers a glimpse of all that flies past. Awareness locks a few moments in amber, that we may cherish them for the rest of our vibrant days. Awareness makes us do things like getting out of a warm bed at 3 AM to attempt a glimpse at the northern lights, or to plunge into a cold mountain stream or the bay late in the season—simply because we may never pass this way again.

      Don’t waste a moment. We ought to spend the time as we know we should. We ought to avoid distraction and waste whenever possible. And be bold and daring when we least expect it of ourselves. Shake the grass and dance all night. For today will fly by like all the rest.

    • The Slow and Difficult Trick of Living

      It isn’t very far as highways lie.
      I might be back by nightfall, having seen
      The rough pines, and the stones, and the clear water.
      Friends argue that I might be wiser for it.
      They do not hear that far-off Yankee whisper:
      How dull we grow from hurrying here and there!

      Many have gone, and think me half a fool.
      To miss a day away in the cool country.
      Maybe. But in a book I read and cherish,
      Going to Walden is not so easy a thing
      As a green visit. It is the slow and difficult
      Trick of living, and finding it where you are.
      — Mary Oliver, Going to Walden

      It isn’t very far at all for me to visit Walden. I could be there in about an hour, accounting for rush hour traffic in that general direction. I’ve gone there before, just to be there on some random Tuesday or Wednesday or whatnot. While others worked I would play hooky for an hour or two, just to see the water, just to feel like Thoreau in the interlude between responsibilities. Inevitably I’d return better for having been there. Some might argue that my nose to the grindstone for those couple of hours would have been a better use of the time. Let them think what they want. We’re all different people, aren’t we?

      I can feel that it’s almost time to re-read Walden again, just as I felt today it was time to revisit Mary Oliver. There are other voices beyond the hustle culture that ought to be listened to. There are other ways to spend our precious time. The trick to living is awareness and presence in the invaluable now. To learn and grow and become at a pace that we can maintain for the long haul, even as we know that the time slips away so very quickly.

      You won’t find me at Walden today. I assure you it will be just fine without me. For a Monday I ought to be in more of a rush somewhere, but what is on the other side of that hustle? Just what do we arrive at when we go from here to there anyway? Maybe that’s why I keep writing—to remind myself to be aware of the time going by, or to simply remind myself to cherish the view along the way. To be here, now feels like more than enough. Why would we ever rush away from it?

    • Proof of Identity

      “I think motivation is complete garbage. It’s never there when you need it. And that’s the paradox of it. [It’s] that we’re all sitting there waiting to be motivated and it’s not coming. Because basic wiring of the brain is that you will always default to what’s easy. And you always push against what’s hard. And if motivation were available on demand we’d all have a million dollars and six-pack abs. And so sitting around and waiting for motivation is the kiss of death. Because it’s in the action that you dissipate the emotion, and it’s in the action that you actually prove to yourself through the action, ’cause you see yourself operating differently, that you are a different person, that you are not defined by your emotions.” — Mel Robbins, from A Bit of Optimism Episode 157 interview

      Two days ago I took all the comfortable habits acquired during the holidays and I threw them in the dumpster. For me, New Year’s resolutions are an artificial timeline that hits too abruptly after the holidays. The decorations are still up, how can we possibly mentally declare we’re on to something new yet? But wait a week or a month, see where we are and where we want to get to and simply begin. Decide what to be and go be it.

      The trick is in that waiting. We must act at some point if we’re going to do anything in this life. I waited because of business travel that would have made everything I expected to do to realize my plan impossible. I began because I saw the runway ahead and knew I was clear for takeoff. The implications are clear; we must be committed to the decisions we make and back them up with action immediately to reinforce the new identity we aspire to reach.

      There is a person in my life who doesn’t like when I use the word must in this blog—as if I’m commanding them to do what I write. I would suggest that we each have agency over ourselves or we don’t, and my use of a word does not translate into a demand for someone else’s action. Simply a demand for my own. Initiative begins within. So what is that voice within telling us? Act on that.

      Where do we want to be tomorrow? Where do we want to be in three months or at the end of this calendar year? Begin with the end in mind, establish and commit to a plan and do the work necessary to execute on that plan. If that sounds too business-like a sentence, so be it. We are in the business of life-optimization, and we must (there’s that word again) not wait, we must act now!

      Realize that the year will fly by like all the rest (Tempus fugit). Realize that there will always be something or someone that will pull us away from what we aspire to be. Action is the only proof of identity. Just what will we realize this year? Go be it.

    • A More Available Life

      “The more you move, the more available you are to chance and little wonders.” — Douglas Westerbeke, A Short Walk Through A Wide World

      To be open to experience is risky. Openness requires more of us than to simply stay in place, doing what we’ve always done, in this familiar way that we’ve always done it. That sentence either sounds like comfort to us or a death sentence, depending on who we have grown to be.

      Westerbeke’s novel is a page-turning wonder itself, as its hero moves through the world. For those of us with travel lust, it stirs those familiar feelings. To leave all of this and go find out more about that, whatever and wherever that is. In experiencing that, we learn a lot about who we are in the process. We are moving beyond the self in such moments. We are living a more available life.

      It sounds wonderful to be forever traveling, forever moving from place to place, as if we’d die if we stayed too long in any one place. In reality, we need a safe harbor to return to now and then, to catch up with old friends and family, to tend a garden and to be there for the harvest, to know the way and what to order at certain restaurants. Familiar has its place in our lives too.

      To weave oneself back into a community is a lovely thing indeed. My barber knows my face and exactly how to cut my hair the moment I walk in the door, even if he hasn’t learned my name in the twenty years I’ve been going there. Honestly, I don’t need him to know my name, only that I’ll be back again in a few weeks to do it all over again. The stories I tell him about where I’ve been since the last time he cut my hair carry him away from that barber shop even as I settle into the familiarity of it.

      As we begin this year, as we venture into an uncertain future, what are we inclined to chance upon? What will we wonder at? Sometimes it’s right in front of us, or within the pages of a book. But often it’s beyond our current experience, simply waiting for us to venture to it. To add venturing to our lives naturally lends itself to more adventure. To go and be and do and yes, to return again forever changed, in the time we have available to us.

      Tempus fugit: Time flies. Every moment of now is rapidly receding into then. How we use now isn’t always up to us, but sometimes—more often that we believe, it is ours alone to spend. Will this day, this year and the balance of our lives be full of familiar routines and comforting safe bets or will we dare to venture beyond?

    • To Be Productive and Daring

      Give winter nothing; hold; and let the flake
      Poise or dissolve along your upheld arms.
      All flawless hexagons may melt and break;
      While you must feel the summer’s rage of fire,
      Beyond this frigid season’s empty storms.
      Banished to bloom, and bear the birds’ desire.
      — James Wright, To a Troubled Friend

      Winter is thriving. The darkest day of the year is almost upon us, and then Christmas, and New Year’s, and before we know it we’ll be looking ahead to spring. At least that’s the hope of winter days. We look ahead, placing ourselves in some future place, brighter and perhaps warmer than where we are now. But now is the gift we forever ignore at our peril.

      I want to make something of this day—to be productive and daring. To do the things I promise myself I’ll do in the earliest hours, before the sun rises, before the first coffee bolsters my courage, before this blog post is captured and released for your consideration. Before is now for the productive mind. Now is the time to write and create something, now is the time to do that workout that mocks us. Now is before we get to those things. After is like another season altogether for the busiest mind.

      It’s all a blur of restless productivity towards something beyond here and now. Simply do what must be done next, and beyond will be there waiting. How we like to believe it so! Do with today what we only dream about for tomorrow. For all flawless hexagons may melt and break.

    • So Soon

      “How did it get so late so soon?
      It’s night before it’s afternoon.
      December is here before it’s June.
      My goodness how the time has flewn.
      How did it get so late so soon?”
      ― Dr. Seuss

      December came so quickly, and so too did winter…
      Sure, it hasn’t officially begun,
      not until we hit 21.
      I don’t feel all that much older
      and surely not very wise.
      Tempus fugit, they said.
      Ain’t it funny how the time flies.
      We’re all surfing each day
      in our own way.
      Today will fly by like all the rest.
      Doing things worthwhile would be best.

      An admittedly weak attempt at poetry on the fly to mark the 10th day of December. How did we get here? The rapidity of the days flying past shocks the system some days. We know that we cannot control time, only how we use it. But those grains of sand are sneaky fast, and grabbing bunches of them are out of the question. And so we must decide what to be and go be it, today, as best we can before the opportunity is lost.

      Seize what flees, as our old friend Seneca told us. Carpe diem. That’s not a sad refrain, that’s a celebration of the day at hand, and of the hand we may play in making something of it. What a gift! May we use it well today.

    • All the Little Things

      “Use your mind to think about things, rather than think of them. You want to be adding value as you think about projects and people, not simply reminding yourself they exist.”
      ― David Allen, Getting Things Done

      When we get really busy (not just a little busy), all the little things start to creep into our thoughts relentlessly, persistently, voraciously to grab our attention again in the quiet moments when we wish they’d not. The devil is in the details, they say, and when the details aren’t polished off just so, the devil comes a callin’. Restful moments turn restless.

      The nature of work nowadays seems to be about doing more with less. Technology enables, but it also steals from us. There is no downtime, no escape from one more question, one little detail that needs clarification, one urgent matter that must be addressed right now, even if it’s a Sunday. The curse of profitability and EBITA (earnings before interest, taxes, and amortization) is that it demands more and more from fewer and fewer. When is enough enough?

      “Do you dream about being remembered for your professional successes?” ― Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength

      There is a time for hustle and incremental gain, and there is a time to take our insight and wisdom (hopefully accumulated) and turn it into something. That may be expressed in our careers, or expressed in writing, music or some other creative way. But the only way to figure that out is to kick that noisy devil out of back of our minds where it’s been nagging us and find some clarity in the ensuing stillness. We may embrace productivity and efficiency in our lives while rejecting those who say it’s never enough.

      So what is the value of work? Money? Health insurance? Status? These things are fleeting, and won’t be carved on our gravestones. We will be remembered for who we were and what we contributed. Not to EBITA, not really, but to the people who mattered most. Success is a tricky word that means something different for each of us, but our worth as humans goes far beyond a quarterly target.

      As we begin yet another Monday, it’s fair to consider all those little things and structure our days in efficient, productive ways that we may accomplish something tangible here and now. But it’s also fair to ask ourselves, are these little things the things we ought to be using this precious time on? We must remember that there’s no time to waste on little things. Perhaps a better thing to ask ourselves is, how might we best profit from this time before it disappears forever?

    • Creating Temporal Landmarks

      “Temporal landmarks could help assuage that terrible feeling of time speeding up as you age. In what researchers call the ‘calendar effect’, we use milestones to form and retain memories – so university students, say, have much better recall of events near the start or end of term, even when you allow for the emotional highs and lows of freshers’ week or graduation. The more landmarks, the less risk of suddenly realising you’ve no idea where last year went.” — Oliver Burkeman, “This Column Will Change Your Life: The Importance of Temporal Landmarks, The Guardian

      As this is published, it’s a Tuesday. What does Tuesday represent? Taco Tuesday, trash and recycling day on my particular street, the second day of the work week, weight circuit day in my fitness schedule, and really not much else that would differentiate it from Wednesday or Thursday this week. And this Tuesday is a lot like last Tuesday and the one before that. They all blend together, don’t they? That’s why life feels routine; because we’ve built a routine for our life.

      If time seems to fly by faster as we get older, maybe it’s because we have fewer temporal landmarks to frame the days into memorable sequences. We slip into a career, work Monday through Friday week after week, and entire years blend together into one block of our lives. I recently spent seven years working for one company, and the only thing about the job that made one year any different from the next were the big work trips and what happened outside of work that impacted the routine. New product releases, version upgrades, company meetings and even trade shows all blended together into a memory of what I did then versus what I do now. Where did the time go?

      The thing is, in that same time period, I took memorable trips of a lifetime to faraway places, had significant milestone moments with family graduations and the passing of loved ones, and of course we all collectively had the pandemic, national elections, wars and a host of other memorable moments that locked time into amber. We don’t remember each day, we remember moments—and these moments are our temporal landmarks. Some are far more significant and far-reaching than others.

      Where were you when the world stopped turnin’
      That September day?
      — Alan Jackson, Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)

      A day like 9/11 is locked into memory, while the world turning in routine on the days leading up to it fade away. We’ll always remember where we were in that moment, just as we do other similar temporal landmarks. We tend to forget the flow of days around those landmarks. And while none of us wish for those kind of 9/11 landmarks to land in our lives ever again, we may use the theory to create more positive temporal landmarks for ourselves.

      So how will today be remembered? What will stand out about this month in five years? How about next year—what temporal landmarks will we schedule into the next year of our lives to make the time really stand out as memorable? The time will flow into our past one way or the other. It’s up to us to make it something more than routine. A temporal landmark is something we’ll remember this time by. Maybe make it something more special than just taco Tuesday.