In my life of a writer and minimalist, I don’t want or wish for much with regard to material goods. In fact the other day in a wine cellar I spend time in, a man from Indianapolis asked me, “How did you end up here?” When I attempted to explain my simple life of walking, sipping wine, writing and enjoying a life without a car or desires of wealth, he looked at me like I was from another planet. Other people who get the same response when they discuss their dramas, their stress and their “overwhelmed” lives, look at me like a light bulb just went on in their heads. It wasn’t easy getting here and it isn’t always easy staying here. The paradox of wanting to become a famous author beyond my state, some fortunate e-books that went worldwide, and wanting to stay quiet is always a wrestling match. But it does work. As I worked on the new novel yesterday and listened to music, I was completely lost to day and time. I was lost in a world of simplicity that ended with me going to the gym and then enjoying cocktails with some very dear friends. Is this real? Is it a faux life compared to what I see on TV, in a newspaper, magazine and movie? Will it all come crashing down? I don’t have final answers, but I do know that living my life like-there-was-no-tomorrow for most of my life almost killed me. There is a choice. There is a way to make life work without constant stress. It is your choice. Granted, I read Thoreau at least twice a month, and I have a deep sense of soul and spirit that I’ve crafted over the years, but I struggle this time of year with the total material take-over of holidays and religious times that make me feel very alone. I sit with a single candle next to my computer as I write, I wear a twenty-five year old sweater that has become my writing robe for several years, and I breathe easy. I love taking care of what I have, those I love (and love me), and those who have continued along for the ride. That doesn’t mean a once-a-year-rush of presents and accolades only to be forgotten on December 26th once the stores open again, churches go quiet, and homeless shelters lose the burst of volunteers. It is a life long desire to be a better human and to make others feel the same. In my life of a writer and minimalist, I revere in the sanctity of hope and peace. So may you.
Life of a Writer and Minimalist
December 21, 2016
stewert james
The Author
An author with a story. Living in a quiet Northern Michigan community, nestled into a serene Lake Michigan bay, James writes to the rhythms of current events mixed with romanticism and experience that can only be found by living the same adventures. Whether it’s a provocative story line or blog, this website will certainly take you beyond the keyboard.
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Nice piece here, Tom. For many of us, hope has recently been a little hard to come by and fear of losing our current level of peace is all too easy to come by. Still, I love the thoughts. Maybe what we all need is a single candle, a nice old comfy sweater, and a firm grip on good thoughts.
Merry Christmas
Tom