Having accumulated stuff for most of our adult lives, it seems we’re now embarking on a de-cluttering routine, so that our lifestyle could be said to be moving towards minimalism. Just how long this phase will last is anybody’s guess, but it feels as if it could be refreshing, cool, and well, minimal.
I’d like to think that we might be exchanging external clutter with a more vivid interior landscape. I’m aware that I’ve lived with the characters of my novel for the past six months, anyway. They’ve had quite a vibrant story to tell, I think. And now they’re emerging into the greater world, step by cautious step, as beta readers pursue the manuscript.
In many ways, of course, we’re characters in the story we create for ourselves. Our new story is about two ageing folks downsizing into something convenient and comfortable, while still seeking to participate in community and social activities as feasible. In this story, sleek uncluttered design overtakes clunky utilitarianism at every opportunity. In principle, a de-cluttered lifestyle should provide more time for actually living, experiencing, feeling.
I think that would be our ambition, but time will tell if we manage to be receptive to experience, to engage with our feelings and to embrace both joy and sorrow as they come along. I hope we can be open to newness, while being careful not to take on too much responsibility. Life is so precious, and each day is another blessing.
Meanwhile, on with the developing routine, and bring out the calendar, why don’t we, so we can plan the next days, weeks and months ahead? And say, wasn’t that historical fiction’s premise rather well-received? Keep Me in Your Heart is a delightful working title, isn’t it?
So new projects also beckon. That’s got to be an ongoing joy.
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