A Mid-Year Update
(and more computer woes)
For those of you just joining us, the major literary adventure of last year was collaborating with Torgeir Higraff in preparing the narrative non-fiction account of his 2016 drift voyage across the South Pacific. It is an exciting story that we are proud of. Finishing the book in January, we were connected with an international agent based in Amsterdam and dealing with publishers in the UK, the US, and Europe.
Beginning in February, our agent, Paul Sebes of the Sebes & Bisseling Literary Agency, began contacting publishers. I wish I could report an immediate acceptance and generous advance on future sales… but no luck so far. I have been told that a publisher must invest an average of 25,000 USD to prepare, print, and promote a book so, obviously, they carefully choose which books they accept. (I have not verified that 25,000 USD figure but it sounds about right.) I have also been told that the process of publishing a book through a traditional publishing company usually takes one to two years from submission to bookstore shelves.
So, although we have had no breakthroughs allowing Torgeir and me - and maybe Paul - to purchase adjoining islands in Hawaii, we remain hopeful. (If any readers of these weekly missives know of a suitable publisher, please let me know. Torgeir and I and Paul and tax authorities in several countries will be grateful.) To date, though, the rejection slips that Paul has forwarded to us have been the kindest, gentlest rejections I have ever read. Mostly, the rejections were on the grounds of our book not being an exact fit with their market niche. But, boy, those rejections! Some were so effusive that we could use them as blurbs on the cover of the paperback or as reviews on the book’s online sales description page.
So, dear readers, stay tuned. I hope that Kon-Tiki 2 (now retitled We’re Sinking But Not Tonight) will one day come to a bookstore near you.
Or a theatre. Torgeir and Paul and I are open to discussing movie rights also. For you readers and subscribers of The Expat Life, if you know any publishers - or movie producers - please tell them about We’re Sinking… Anyone who successfully connects us with a movie producer with deep pockets will have a standing invitation to visit us on our adjoining Hawaiian islands.
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And, no, you did not miss an issue of this weekly drivel. My computer failed again so I could not publish last week. The apparent repair by replacing the power cord was not the real cause. The rascal ran perfectly for eight days then failed again. Another trip to the computer shop. Another few days of deprivation and frustration. More golfing language. So, once again, I am back but without much confidence. My backup devices are nearly fully functional now. About one more breakdown of this computer and it may get a flying lesson from the 18th floor. Or maybe a new career as a boat anchor.
Back to my mid-year update (sans tech woes)…
But, with that marathon writing collaboration completed and out the door in February, I immediately began work on my next major project, the collection of all my past and future books into a series, The Expat Chronicles. The series will deal with my personal experiences as an expat in China but will generalize those experiences, observations, and reflections to fit expats and prospective expats anywhere in the world. Work continues on the series despite my computer-based delays.
Before we venture into the my latest-and-greatest project, please consider stopping by my Buy Me A Coffee page and supporting me. I’m not on that Hawaiian island yet.
Let me begin with a brief explanation of my plans for the new series. As I wrote in the introduction to the first book in the proposed series, The Expat Has Landed.
Let’s get one little detail settled at the very outset. An expat and an immigrant are not the same thing. True, there is some overlap but I am confining my topic to expats. Specifically, an expat has not changed his citizenship or loyalty… only his address. I am an expat. I can be grateful to a new host country and respectful of their achievements but my allegiance to my birth country has never wavered. The immigrant is the mirror image in those respects.
And, as a further preview of future literary delights, here is a longer excerpt from the work-in-progress that will become Book 5, Expats: The Next Generation.
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And now we begin the last section of this book. In a way, this part is a consolidation and summation of all the things I have experienced, observed, and concluded from my years as an expat, especially as they apply to passing my experiences and reflections to the next generation.
Incidentally, I hope you are not perceiving me as some wise old sage and guidance counsellor. If there is any wisdom in these pages, it is derived from the vast number of mistakes, misjudgments, false starts, restarts, and inconsistency of actions that have plagued my life. Of course, those are the things that, collectively, made me the person I am currently. Subsequently, those are the very botches and fumbles that brought me the life I enjoy today; so, no complaints. I confess: Those same character flaws and unfortunate choices are one of the major reasons I fled my home country to become an expat. Hmm. Seen from that perspective, perhaps I am indeed the ideal person to speak to present and aspiring expats. As TV personality, Julia Child from The French Chef used to say, “If I can do it, you can do it too.”
As you read the following chapters in this section, look for these four themes: Habits, Boundaries, Simplification, and Balance. The essence of the message in The 18th Floor Homestead section is about these four matters. Let me elaborate a bit before we begin.
Habits: Our habits make up our day and, after enough days, form our character. Bad habits - of which I have vast experience and am thus qualified to offer advice about - are easy to form and tough to break. It takes a longer perspective to break habits and replace them with good ones. Most bad habits are a manifestation of the desire for immediate gratification. As you examine a bad habit, look for its trigger which is usually an impulse to reward yourself or to escape. Bad habits; they’re not just for breakfast anymore.
Sometimes, those bad habits are subtle. They might take the form of perfectionism or a tendency to over-prepare or over-study. Other common manifestations are: brief interludes of online escape that always become far, far too long, self-medication in the form of alcohol, smoking, trivial back-biting gossip, reading irrelevant but titillating news reports of scandals that don’t affect you personally, following the latest antics of instant celebrities you have never heard of, or the sad state of the world and the crazy things people in it are doing. (With eight billion people in the world, there is a mathematical certainty that there will always be some genuinely crazy and bizarre people. This sad group is different from the much, much larger group of people acting in a crazy or bizarre way merely to draw attention to themselves in a desperate attempt to be noticed.) Choose new habits carefully. Form them, record them if that step is helpful to you, then simply keep the chain of successful days going.
Boundaries: The term homestead comes from the Homestead Act of 1862 in the US which granted 160 acres of free land in the vast, unpopulated western regions of that young country. The only requirement to making it legally yours was to occupy it and improve it. This is the image most people have when they hear the term homestead.
In my case, I live on the 18th Floor of a tower lost among many other towers in a large city. Hence the name of this section. But I have the same criteria. I occupy my little homestead; that’s the first part of the requirements to make it mine. The second part is a little more involved. It was my intention to create my own little niche in the world where I could control things. This requires establishing boundaries to keep the outside world at bay.
In the following chapters, establishing the boundaries for your homestead means deciding how to exclude the outside world from your personal space. The outside world sends us an incessant barrage of intrusions, advertisements, unnecessary information, and sophisticated attempts to persuade us - purchasing, voting for, financially supporting, or simply following the antics of influencers whose sole claim to fame is that they work very hard every day to continue to be famous. Only when we can establish boundaries to ban all these outside forces which are overwhelming in their number and intensity, can we make some conscious choices about how we want to live inside our homestead.
Simplification: One of the primary motivations for reviewing and evaluating our lives is a desire to simplify. Remember the famous admonition to “Simplify, simplify,” by Hank Thoreau. As we find ourselves members in a world moving at an increasingly hectic pace, it can feel as if we are spending most of our days putting out little fires before they become big fires, dealing with outraged, yelling people who seem to be happy only when they are outraged and yelling about something, or realizing that, in our quest for a good life, we have accumulated so many possessions that our possessions have come to possess us. Simplifying is indeed simple. We merely need to examine the distinction between what we need and what we want.
Part of that process is examining how we were convinced that we needed something instead of merely wanting it. I am recalling the time a few years ago when my very young son - already a good little consumer - told me he wanted to buy something. I asked him what he wanted to buy. He replied that he didn’t know; he just wanted to buy something. He had already been deeply indoctrinated with the concept that more toys would make him more happy. They don’t, of course. More toys can make us, at best, temporarily happy. But the money he spent on those toys can make other people happy.
The way to simplify your life and make it much quieter is to keep those persuasive influences outside of your homestead. And they are indeed persuasive. Even the color schemes on our smartphones and video games are carefully chosen with our psychological weak points in mind. Don’t believe me? Try changing the settings on your phone or computer to only black-and-white. Not nearly as exciting or intriguing or satisfying when you win.
Please understand that acting on this decision to simplify is not always so simple. Lots of choices must be made. The first choice is to consciously decide what comforts and conveniences you choose to take with you as you form your simple life on your homestead. Imagine Hank Thoreau deciding to take his PC and a few games to his cabin… and maybe a small stereo for playing his favorite music. And, for those hot summer days, maybe a small electric fan (which will require a portable generator). Then, if he gets tired of keeping a wood fire going for warmth on those cold winter nights near Walden Pond, perhaps a portable electric heater. Perhaps he would decide to take a few packages of his favorite chili mix. The list is personalized according to individual preferences and conditions but you get the picture. The temptations are endless. And, with each addition, the simple life is pushed further away. That is the compromise: Do you want pure Henry David Thoreau-style simplicity or do you want some comforts and diversity? And, yes, of course, you do. The big question is… how many and which ones?
Historical note: Even Hank was not extremely extreme in his quest for self-sufficiency and isolation. At any time, he could walk the relatively short distance to the nearest village to see family and friends and make purchases to supplement his diet. He did so. Not frequently but knowing the option was available made his austere simple life more voluntary. Perhaps he merely hungered for some good conversation. We humans are inherently social animals. In our minds, many experiences are not complete until we share our thoughts about them with others. And maybe he simply craved a little variety in his diet. Did they have Thai restaurants in Massachusetts back then?
Balance: I think I am like most of the people reading this collection of wit and wisdom. Our lives are far too sedentary… and we know it. Gordon MacQuarrie wrote about his prescription for getting away from the intensity of too much screen time, too much chair time. He said there is much satisfaction to be found in tasks that “please the hands and rest the brain”. In other words, working with your hands slows the headlong thinker. Which particular form of working with your hands is something each individual can choose according to their talents, interests, resources, and needs. It’s your homestead.
The solution is obvious: Get up from your desk and start doing things for yourself. Work with your hands. Balance your time between desk work and activities you cannot perform while sitting in front of a screen. Cook your own meals, get more exercise, and buy a standup desk for those hours when you simply must work at the computer. A clean and decluttered house doesn’t just happen and it certainly doesn’t stay that way without constant maintenance.
Yet… There are still some complications to overcome. Try this: Stand back and thoughtfully review all the devices that make you more comfortable and save time. Those are the same devices that keep you away from that theoretical simple life. Indeed, our possessions come to possess us. Who’s the boss here? And, really, how much time are they saving you?
Am I advocating a return to the primitive life of our forefathers from a few generations ago? Hell no. In my 18th Floor homestead, I use purified running water in a kitchen with electric lights, an electric kettle for instantly boiling that purified water, and pre-ground packaged coffee so I can have a hot, steaming, delicious cup of coffee ready to take back to my desk in only a couple of minutes. Why would I want to chop wood, build a fire, haul water from a distant and perhaps unsafe source, and take the time to grind my own coffee beans?
But “fast and convenient” carries with it a set of complications and compromises. From my “traditional girl” wife, I get lots of good, nutritious food, purchased at the neighborhood markets almost daily. We depend upon lengthy supply chains to eat well. But the key word is depend. Likewise, I tell myself that it is more efficient to take my work to the local print shop instead of buying a printer to keep in my office. (I’m certain of the economic advantages of outsourcing the printing but this must be balanced with my dependence upon other people to do these things for me. And, of course, I depend upon someone somewhere to build my computer, generate the electricity to power it, and to create the infrastructure to connect me with the internet. (For all those people toying with the idea of becoming a Luddite or a survivalist, I will ask the simple question posed by Earl Nightengale: Have you ever tried to make your own fishhooks?) Yes, we love our comforts and time-saving conveniences. But we need to decide just how many of them are justified before the total number makes our life complicated and full of dependence.
And we also love the variety and diversity of modern life. There is a story about the old philosopher who talked about his experience of going back to nature, of living a simple life in the forest with the woodcutters and farmers. (This story is probably apocryphal; many stories about old philosophers are.) He lamented, however, that he was soon bored by unvarying daily routines, endless manual labor for fulfilling his basic needs, and neighbors whose only interests were cutting wood or raising crops. He missed good talks with other philosophers. He probably missed good coffee, too. Maybe even an occasional trip to a Thai restaurant.
I personally knew a couple who attempted a modern-day return to nature. He was a professor; she was an IT manager. Two professional people. They were educated and thoughtful. They dreamed of having a small, simple house that required little maintenance. They wanted to live in a rural community where the pace of life would be much slower than the big city. The found the perfect spot, they thought. When they took early retirement, they moved to a small town located on a beautiful, clear river near a national park.
After a year, they returned to the city. Why? They found that they were bored senseless by the attempts to talk with people with a much more limited education and a dramatically shortened worldview. Even worse, they were never accepted by those same people who were suspicious of their educated vocabulary and complex opinions on matters of little importance to local residents who were insulated from most matters by their isolation. Gemeinschaft vs. Gesellschaft, personified. Feeling shunned and lonely, they gave up and resumed their former lives in the city. (I think, however, that part of their motivation was nothing more complicated than a desire for some good shrimp nachos and an occasional trip to a Thai restaurant.)
Yet, with the right preparations and awareness of the sacrifices you will make in leaving the amenities and services of Big City Life, it is still possible to build a satisfying and sustainable life in such rustic environments. How? Home delivery and relationships. Think of the old days when people played chess by mail. Surface mail; paper in an envelope with a stamp. Yes, the olden days before email and instant online messaging. One move for each letter. Although the mistakes caused by impulsive moves were dramatically reduced, a single game could take months to play. Still, it was contact with a more sophisticated outside world. An acceptable compromise was reached. You could put up hay or can green beans in the afternoon and duel with a chess master in the evening.
You can revive this concept. If living in a rural setting is your dream, you can still live in a rustic environment for a permanent lifestyle, not merely a brief visit. The way to make this a satisfying and sustainable life is to accept the limits you will experience. As I wrote earlier, there is no shock in culture shock if there is no surprise. Comparable to playing chess by mail, you stay in contact with the outside world by going online.
Here is the secret: Remember the words of Jim Rohn, “You become the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” Internet access is constantly becoming more widely available. Current estimates are that over five billion people are online and available for exchanges. Surely, out of that huge number, you can find a few people to relate to. Perhaps you will find some to be part of your own Rohn Five Circle. But the key to making this quest for online relationships successful is to remember his qualifier; these are people with whom you spend the most time with. The quality of the exchanges is important but time is the true prerequisite. Read in Chapter One of The 18th Floor Homestead of how my online life evolved.
Or, you can do as I did when I established the borders for my 18th Floor Homestead. Outside is the megacity with diversity, amenities, every conceivable service, and Thai restaurants. Inside, with my river music nature recordings playing as soft, unintrusive background music, I am tapping away at my keyboard while the Little Dry Fork Creek waits for me only a few steps away from Grandpa’s bus, his permanent fishing cabin.
And how to create your own balance of features in your own homestead? How do you achieve quality of life with an acceptable standard of living in a place where you can look outside your window each morning and smile?
Let’s get started!
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As I write these words, a gentle rain is falling. One of the most peaceful sounds I know of… provided I am indoors and listening to it. Enjoying one last cup of peaceful morning coffee. Come join me. (Hint, hint.)