A Tisket, a Tasket, Let’s Make a Handbasket.

Between ourselves and the end at hand, save what you can.

Socrates made me quit sugar.

After forty-five years of making my coffee the same way every day, I was convinced to change by the corrupter of ancient Athens’ youth.

At his trial, he famously proclaimed “An unexamined life is not worth living.” It wasn’t much of a defense, though, and he was sentenced to death. Soon after, he drank a cup of bitter hemlock and died. Now, halfway through my sixtieth year, I’ve taken his dictum to heart and drink my own brew bitter as hell.

(Unlike Socrates, nobody serves me my morning brew in bed.)

I ain’t no Socrates and the old Greek’s statement was about more than a spoonful of sugar, but the trivial can make a big difference in the way we live.

I’d been wondering what starting my day with that jolt of sweetness did to my palate. Did it make me less sensitive to sugar in everything else? Did it dull my senses? Did it mask the rich complexity of a good cup?

I decided to give it a try. I left the sugar out. And after a couple weeks, I’ve come to prefer my coffee without. Now, it turns out that everything else tastes sweeter by comparison.

The Habit of Being

Many of us live our lives like we take our coffee—out of habit. Some we’ve formed over decades without much thought. What we eat, how we dress, the paths we take, the places we live are all chosen out of inertia. There is real pleasure and real benefit to many of these habits. But they can also lead to an unexamined life.

I took a look at my retirement accounts the other day and realized how close it all was. The whole notion of the end of work was suddenly very concrete. I could write down a date when I could walk away from employment if I so chose. And it wasn’t so far away.

Finances aside, I recognized that the habits I have now will have consequences for how I live my life then. What can I do now to make that post-work life a richer, more expansive experience? From the trivial, like leaving sugar out of my coffee, to the momentous, like leaving the continent, I asked myself what can I alter now to make the best life then?

There is, however, a raging pachyderm in the room.

The world is burning.

Every day there’s a new outrage from the US government.

War breaks out anew regularly.

The idea of human rights has become a quaint afterthought.

I mention these things in the vaguest of terms because to detail them would send me into raging despair. But for many, the vision we had of later years seems impossible now. War. Climate change. Political chaos.

This country seems out of kindness, I suppose.

We are, of course, going to hell in a handbasket.

Photo by CEphoto, Uwe Aranas

But I will not let raging despair define the rest of my life.

I’ll make this handbasket as comfortable as possible.

Clean. Well-lighted, even. That was Hemingway’s ask, at least.

What does this life look like? That’s why we’re here.

Not a Plan, But a Concept of a Plan

I have a wandering mind. My business card says, “words, music, hare-brained schemes.” Over the past few decades, I’ve published a well-regarded novel, founded one of the more important literary events in the Southeast, created an innovative audio journal, launched an ideas festival, and produced and hosted several public radio series.

All of these things were driven by a sense of curiosity. And I’m sure of one thing—it will be my curiosity that enriches my life moving forward.

A couple of weeks ago, I replied to a Paul Chaney Substack note with this thought:

Retirement will be stepping away from work driven by the need for income… Will there be work? One might call it that. I am thinking of it as a type of creative engagement using some of the framework of a work-centered life.

Even before the dissolution of American political norms, I had always envisioned retirement in Europe. On the most basic level, Europe calls like an adventure. And I crave adventure. But I also like a comfy bed and good food.

Here, in a Clean, Well-lighted Handbasket I’ll tell the story of responding to this opportunity for a newly defined life. Although stepping away from conventional work is a not-too-distant milestone, I’m just as interested in documenting the changes to my life now as I rejigger my current life with intent.

So join me in the basket and follow me down this road. It should be well-paved with my best intentions. And no judging—drink your coffee any damned way you want.

Also, you can expect me to end each post with a song. For this post, Save What You Can, a majestic recording by Aussie band The Triffids.