The Road to Shangri-la

Like many of you, I have hobbies.  At least theoretically I have hobbies.  There are many things I truly enjoy doing when I have free time, but there’s the rub.  You either must have free time to indulge in a favorite pastime, or you have to sacrifice elsewhere to make that time free.  This is problematic, of course, and leads, over time, to self-promises of a future life where one has nothing to do BUT indulge in those favorite activities.  I, and I’m guessing a good number of you too, certainly hope this future is attainable—even if the cynic in me doubts it can ever really happen.

As you’ve probably gathered by now, I love history.  As Hardcore History podcaster Dan Carlin often labels himself, I too am a fan of history.  Two of my most favorite hobbies reflect that love of history, historical tabletop wargaming and shooting traditional Korean archery.  These activities allow me to experience times past, immerse my imagination in an era that I feel more in common with, perhaps, than the one in which I actually live.  I could have jousted my way across medieval Europe . . . kept pace with Ghengis Khan beyond the steppe . . . stubbornly defended my section of Hadrian’s Wall.  These are the places my historical hobbies take me, at least in my mind’s eye.

Other hobbies reflect a life spent in pursuit of physical fitness and self-discipline.  Hiking, golf, and mountain biking have become favorite pastimes—especially as the indiscretions of my youth (namely football) have left me with knees that no longer appreciate a soccer or volleyball match.  Still, being outside, in the fresh air, walking or riding through the trees, I’m transported to another place, and occasionally another time.  If I can hike or walk somewhere of historical significance, all the better.

The final hobby that I favor is a bit out of character, and, though my wife may disagree, likely reflects a growing maturity.  Photography is the most recent addition to the list of things I like to do in my time off, and I’ve found myself pretty good at it—if I don’t mind saying so myself.  That said, my favorite subjects to photograph are, unsurprisingly, military fortifications, whether intact, reconstructed, or in the form of ruins.  A quick run through the photo gallery posted on this website (https://www.mghaynes.net/korean-fortifications/) will verify my love for these long-since abandoned bastions, no matter where I find them.

Why, when I enjoy these things so much, don’t I spend my days in pure bliss, moving from one desirable activity to another?  One word . . . work.  And why do I work . . . to make money.  Sort of.  Besides collecting a paycheck used to buy ever nicer things, eat tastier foods, and manipulate cooler gadgets, there’s also the very real need to accomplish something of value, to build, and to create.  But essentially, there it is.  Were I content to just enjoy life, I could, again theoretically, quit my job, settle down, and just do the things I like to do.  Full time!  But I can’t do that, can I?  Neither can most of you, I’m guessing.

Instead, we settle for promising ourselves this future version of personal Shangri-la, beginning more and more sentences with “After I retire . . .”  Now, don’t get me wrong, there are enough people out there who do just that to make the dream seem realistic, even attainable.  People who set down the sword, the hoe, the books, the curling iron and just walk off into the sunset.  But for many of us, likely myself included, we’ve grown so accustomed to work, used to the structure, acclimatized to a measurable, goal-orientated lifestyle, that retirement will more likely take the shape of simply another form of work. 

I’m self-reflective by nature, and have spent a great deal of time contemplating the future, especially my post-retirement future.  And, on those rare occasions when I’m not completely consumed with daydreams of sitting out on my deck, feet soaking in the Jacuzzi, shooting arrows and taking pictures between game turns taken on a 15 by 15 foot, to-scale replica of the Waterloo battlefield . . . sigh . . . where was I?  Oh yes, on those occasions when I seriously consider the future, I’ve had to come to some pretty hard realizations about who I am and what makes me tick.  Things that are just not likely to change.

Ultimately, then, this is perhaps why I’ve chosen this path, the way of the writer, as my second life.  The inception of an idea or story, is a marvelous thing, like a thunderbolt out of the clear blue sky, and it’s likely my imagination will continue to produce those long after my fingers (or my eyes) can no longer accomplish a writer’s work.  The drive to complete a story once begun adds a goal, a target that I must admit I absolutely need in order to feel a part of society if not the world.  The nit-picking and chipping away at the superfluous word and phrase that sums up the editing process somehow satisfies the perfectionist in me.  These things all come together to outline a life for me that mimics, to a certain degree, my current one of toil and deadlines.  And yet, they allow me to focus my future energies on something I want to do, a not insignificant departure from the present state of affairs.

Oddly, I’ve turned to writing, then, not necessarily as a source of income, or even as an outlet for creativity.  Rather, it seems I’ve turned to the free expression that is writing novels in order to impose some structure on my next life.  This is, admittedly, a strange way to consider the future, perhaps, but the more I think about it, the more it appeals to me.  And maybe, just maybe, this path, this structure, this new set of rules and duties will enable me to allow myself the freedom to pursue those things I most enjoy.  In my spare time.  Maybe. 

M. G. Haynes