My Year of Living Hobbitly

Role models.

I recently read an article where Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield was quoted saying that he thinks every person should have a New Year’s resolution, because it gives you something to strive for. Even when we fail, we improve somewhat by trying. And I’ve always been a big fan of self-improvement.

So I made a resolution. Several, in fact. I’ve decided to live 2015 with the values of a hobbit.
            "A hobbit?" you ask. "You want to live like a hobbit?"
            No, not "like" a hobbit. I can't put my life on hold just to dig a cave that's likely to fall in on me, to forego shoes in the deepest part of winter or to suddenly add three or four extra meals to my day. I have a plan. This is a thing that’s been on my mid for a while, I haven’t just sprung it. The half-baked resolutions are the ones most likely to fail.

So, what does it mean to be a hobbit, thematically-speaking? It means taking pleasure in the things that are, at once, most simple and yet most meaningful in life. Hobbits appreciate nature, family, lore, reading, good food, good drink, and socialization. They enjoy living life, but they don’t give in to too much of anything. It’s not hard to think that hobbits depict what their creator J.R.R. Tolkien—a staunch Catholic—sees as living a virtuous life. True, there are exceptions--some nasty hobbits more jealous or ignorant than dangerous—and gluttony appears to be the one deadly sin most hobbits as a rule all fall victim to, but by and large hobbits are pure. Simple and pure—achievably pure.

So, I intend to concentrate on simple things in my attempt to behave more hobbitly this year. One of the only big shifts I’m looking at is many more walks outside. I know I walk more than your average winter-bound North American as it is, but a hobbit needs time to concentrate on the outdoors. And I mean peacefully: not just when I exercise.

A few days ago, as I was setting into what I thought I would do to live up to this lofty and vague claim, I came across one of those “New Year, New You” articles in the lower recesses of the Huffington Post feed. Normally I only partially attend these “habits of happy people” proclamations, but in thumbing through them I saw a lot of things I needed to consider more, and especially that tied to being more hobbitly (you’ll forgive my continued use of a created adverb for the purpose of this).

So, here it is, my manifesto for a Year of Living Hobbitly, using the bullets taken directly from the Huffington article.

1.       Forgive more.

Hobbits see the best in people—even potential or former enemies. Both Bilbo and Frodo are willing to see the undeserved best in Gollum, and that’s a good thing in the long run. Forgiveness comes quickly and easily to hobbits.

2.       Meditate daily.

Sure, it might be a nap, but I think hobbits stop and think or—in some lucky cases—stop and fail to think at all. The point is that they consider and have no trouble at all finding inner peace (ring-bearers aside).

3.       See the world as awe-inspiring.

I’d say this is a feature of what makes hobbits hobbits. They are awed by all they see and encounter, it’s all bigger and grander than them. That’s of course the reason Tolkien made them his vehicle.

4.       Let go of things you can’t control.

Hobbits easily accept and give over to anything they can’t control. They accept much, they trust much (sometimes too much), but they leave it in control of whatever is in control. They let go easily.

5.       Experience the flow of things you love.

It says in the Huffington article that this means to lose all sense of ego in time while doing an enjoyed activity. I think, comically, a hobbit smoking on his doorstep on a lovely morning is about as into the flow as you could ask.

6.       Be more present.

This one is similar to #5, meaning to love for right now rather than in the past or for things yet to come. Love where you are and what you’re doing. Perhaps this alludes a little to the hobbit’s fear of change, but certainly this is in here.

7.       Spend time in nature.

Nature is where hobbits thrive. They enjoy long walks, being beside (rather than upon) bodies of water. Trees and seasons and growing things. This one is easy.

8.       Take up yoga.

This one is not. No hobbit ever does anything even remotely similar to yoga. But, when pushed, hobbits can try to exert themselves in a new way. They’re not especially active creatures, but when you consider the lengths Sam, Pippen, and Merry go to better themselves on their quest, maybe it could be considered the Middle-Earth equivalent of downward dog. I don’t know, this is one I’ll have trouble with myself, even without the hobbit-metaphor.

9.       Spend more time with yourself.

Although they’re social creatures, the hobbits we’re most fascinated by—Bilbo and Frodo—are a bit more reclusive. All hobbits are comfortable on their own, and all documented hobbits have at least one instance of talking to themselves. Gollum takes this to the extreme.

10.   Keep an inspiration file.

Each hobbit has his particular interests. Bilbo and Frodo with maps and languages and lore, Sam with gardening, and Merry with pipe-weed. It’s not hard to see evidence throughout Tolkien’s works of hobbits accessing some work or seeing some object that inspires them. Upon consideration, this is a very hobbit-like activity.

11.   Establish a morning ritual.

Hobbits are creatures of routine, and Bilbo is certiasly in the middle of a nearly obsessive-compulsive morning when Gandalf comes to see him to bring him on Thorin’s adventure.

12.   Practise gratitude.

Easy one, as I think hobbits show true appreciation for everything they are given. The only times they are uncomfortable are when sincerity and social norms are not followed.

13.   Give without strings attached.

Bilbo lets the Sackville-Bagginses have his home and he throws a party for everyone on his own birthday with gifts for them.

14.   Embrace uncertainty.

As Gandalf reminds all of them at every possible chance, they are little fellows in a big world and generally idiots. They are constantly uncertain whenever outside the Shire, and deal with it very well most of the time.

15.   Write a soul journal.

Stream-of-consciousness writing is probably not ordered enough for your average hobbit, but they aren’t afraid of writing with their souls. Letters and histories and lore and studies and lists—when a hobbit puts his open to paper, he does even the most meaningless task with soulful passion.

16.   Replenish your well.

The activities that fall under well replenishment are fun and laughter and pleasures. Who but hobbits put these not only as important, but as critical, indeed the most important things in life at all times?

17.   Compare less.

When hobbits compare themselves to others it’s in a positive way, meant to grant them courage or wisdom as they choose to be more like Aragorn or Gandalf. The rest of the time, they are certainly content with their own selves.

18.   Make time for friendship.

The friendships between hobbits are some of the purest in literature. Sam’s dedication to Frodo is a love that we have trouble understanding in a time where men aren’t supposed to express their admiration for each other.

19.   Trust yourself.

Hobbits are plagued with doubts, true, but they never fail to trust their instincts. Even when they end up getting into or out of scrapes by dumb luck or the aid of others, hobbits trust themselves. To a fault.

20.   Commit to living a life true to you.

The best thing about hobbits—something Gandalf remarks on—is how they surprise you despite never changing. They are stoic, traditional, and require simple pleasures. They are as true to themselves as anyone could be.

21.   Be gentle on yourself.

Hobbits are naturally gentle folk, and so to ask them to be gentle with themselves is an easy one. They put themselves through the greatest of extremes, but are endlessly forgiving, and only seek to make themselves more comfortable in some way, if only briefly.

When you want to self-improve, it’s best to have an inspiration. This is not me breaking rule 17, it’s me saying that, like hobbits, I can recognize merit in someone—in this case an entire race of fictional someones—who can live by each of these steps. I can decide, thus, to try to live my life more like this for one year.