Feeling darkly toward an illusive goal...

a nod to Beethoven

Admittedly this is a weird time of year. Too much food, wine, and dare I say family, are in the rear view mirror and we are now faced with fresh commitments and responsibilities for the new year. It often means getting back to healthier rituals and deciding what works and what might need a little nudge.

Goodbye annus horribilis and an optimistic if not tentative nod toward an annus of the more mirabilis variety.

I have a collection of books towering on my desk for another book proposal.

A history of graphicacy to accompany milestones from decades ago. An alignment of place with story and story with place. Maps are a powerful way to visualize knowledge. No longer industry specific—cartographers, data scientists, journalists, statistician and scientists explore “where” something happened and how the physicality of a location often influences outcomes.

“The popular medium of graphical representation through art, maps, or historical documentation creates an ability to travel in the past in order to reveal truth in the present. The year 1963 as a vast constellation of moments portrayed in verse, vignette, and visualization.”— Bonny P McClain, Autobiographicacy: A year in statistical prose.

The ankle is ready for road/trail rehab so I am back to what passes for multitasking on growing trail runs. Walking (and by extrapolation running) has been credited with stimulating creativity and I fuel these activities with a fondness for podcasts.

Because I like the ease of transitioning conversations from art history to graphicacy I consume books like Fixed: How to Perfect the Fine Art of Problem Solving in my stationary moments and podcasts like Artcurious when I am on the trail. Jennifer Dasal, host of the podcast, mentioned Vincent van Gogh’s Wheatfield with Crows (1890) and the picture No Birds (pictured above) allegedly inspired by the earlier work.

I like them both but what caught my eye in a piece I read was Joan Mitchell’s moxie when she explains the plan for executing the work.

“I just got up on that f*cking ladder and told myself, ‘This stroke has to work.”

This has to work is a mantra I take very seriously. It is the reason January is not a solitary month of reflection or planning—I do this all year long. When you are busy there is no room for self doubt on that ladder. Someone needs to be shoved off.

Ideas need to be agitated. Think of starting a fire with sticks. No repetition or force, no spark. Explore all of the things that interest you or spark your curiosity. It won’t be long before you find a thread of familiarity or connection. Your lens of discovery is your secret sauce.

The only inaugural ritual I practice is assessing limitations.

Less pie in the sky and more addressing the barrier or weakness in a plan or idea. We aren’t competing with our younger self—we are competing with who shows up today.

What races would I like to do and what limits do I need to address. This might include commitments to train while traveling, packing tinned fish or safe food for emergencies, or training plans to address sub-optimal results.

I queue up Rich Roll and his podcast for Coaches’ Corner to hear advice that although directly applicable to ultra events succeeds in the business side of most of us.

“Goals are great. But far more important is who you become in the pursuit of said goals. Focus on the inside work. Process over results. Craft over competition. Ritual over routine. Recalibration over resolution. And watch your world change.”—Rich Roll, podcast

What are your goals this year? At the end of the day, week, or month can you list the steps you took in the direction of them?

The true artist is not proud: he unfortunately sees that art has no limits; he feels darkly how far he is from the goal, and though he may be admired by others, he is sad not to have reached that point to which his better genius only appears as a distant, guiding sun—Ludwig Beethoven