A life I'd like to share

Adventures

I've written down the life I'd like to build with someone, from a van we could take to the coast to the home we'd grow old in. Start with The Promise. Each chapter includes where things stand now.

11 chapters

  1. Two coffee cups on a worn wooden kitchen table in early morning light.

    Chapter One Non-negotiable

    The Promise

    Eleven chapters about a life I'd like to share, with room for her to change the plans.

    Horizon: Day one, and every day after

    In motion I'm forty-one and haven't met her yet. These are the commitments I'm making and the life I'd like us to build.

  2. The timber-lined interior of an empty van, rope and a crate along one wall, rear doors open onto a sunlit wooded track.

    Chapter Two

    The Van

    Two desks, room for both our ideas, and a van we'd still find reasons to use decades later.

    Horizon: Whenever we are ready for it, and then every year after that

    Not started I haven't bought a van. I've been reading builds, pricing systems, and sketching layouts. The build needs money, time, and somewhere to keep it in pieces.

  3. A wildflower meadow between two stands of forest at sunrise, a narrow creek winding through it and mist hanging at the treeline.

    Chapter Three

    The Land

    Water within earshot of the porch, woods for the children, and an orchard we'd have time to learn.

    Horizon: Years two through five, then the rest of it

    Not started I'm still looking. Money and timing have kept other things ahead of buying land, and I'd want us to choose the place together.

  4. An empty panelled room with wide plank floors, a tall mullioned window standing open and sunlight falling across the boards.

    Chapter Four

    The Children

    Having children is an adventure I'd love with the right person, if we both want it. A life together doesn't depend on it.

    Horizon: If we both want it, when we are ready

    Not started I'd love to be a father with the right person. I'm open to what we decide together, including a life without children.

  5. A book-lined studio room with two leather armchairs facing a camera stand, a whiteboard on an easel and daylight through a tall window.

    Chapter Five

    The Work

    Making useful things, helping with her work, and knowing when to switch the camera off.

    Horizon: Year one, and ongoing forever

    In motion I already build, research, and publish for a living. What we might do together is still open.

  6. An open handwritten manuscript on a desk in window light, surrounded by bound volumes, a globe, an inkwell and reading glasses.

    Chapter Six

    The Books

    A novel waiting for a reader, a world built over years, and books we might make together.

    Horizon: Year three onward, for decades

    Started A complete first draft exists. It hasn't been revised or published, and nobody has read it yet.

  7. An open handwritten field notebook on a rock beside a creek, a hand writing in it, with a specimen jar, an inkwell and a fern frond alongside.

    Chapter Seven

    The Questions

    A first submission for peer review, and the research we could do by staying curious about one place.

    Horizon: Year five onward

    In motion The investigations are public, and I've made my first submission for peer review. Nothing of mine has completed that process yet.

  8. Two hikers with packs and poles walking a stone ridge trail at sunrise above a valley filled with cloud.

    Chapter Eight

    The Bodies

    Keeping active for the walks, work, and people I'd like to be capable of enjoying as we grow older.

    Horizon: Throughout our lives, adjusted as we go

    In motion I've trained for about twenty years, usually two or three sessions a week, with gaps. I'd like to keep returning to it as I get older.

  9. A long wooden table at night under a low warm lamp, spread with handwritten papers, two glasses of wine, a candle and a bowl of fruit.

    Chapter Nine Non-negotiable

    The Table

    A book open after dinner, a question we disagree about, and enough time to hear each other out.

    Horizon: Every night, for sixty years

    In motion Reading, questioning, and publishing what I find are already part of my life. I'd like to share those conversations.

  10. A dense old growth forest interior at dawn, tall straight trunks rising like columns through low mist.

    Chapter Ten Non-negotiable

    The Source

    Christian faith, difficult questions, and the practices we'd find room for in our home.

    Horizon: All sixty years

    In motion I pray and take my faith seriously. I haven't joined a congregation, though I've meant to for years.

  11. A mature fruit orchard in golden afternoon light with a laid table and chairs set out under two large trees and a swing hanging nearby.

    Chapter Eleven

    The Long Evening

    Growing older together, looking after whoever stays, and leaving something useful behind.

    Horizon: The last twenty years, and after

    Not started This is the future I'm hoping for, including the difficult years and the parts neither of us could arrange in advance.