I’m coming out. Of Bag End.

It’s time to admit it…

I’m a hobbit.

In the immortal words of Bilbo Baggins, in “There and Back Again: A Hobbit’s Tale”, the description of the species suits me to a “T”. If there are others that challenge the entirety of that description, well, I can only ascribe my inordinate height to Entwater.

Let others claim to be kings, adventurers, and heroes. Just let me be in my home under the Hill.

Oh, don’t think of this as a complaint; I am wholly willing and happy to be so. But I feel it’s high time that I embrace what I am. It just seems good and right to embrace the truth. Who knows, if enough of us acknowledge this, we might actually find a way to be free of the expectations of others that we “get out there and be somebody”.

Consider this a “coming out of the hobbit-hole”.

I hope my courage will inspire others, and together we can collectively decide to be who and what we are. If not, well, at least you, dear reader, will understand more on my behalf.

Signs you may be a hobbit, like me:

A Homebody Nature.

From early times, I have much desired the comforts of home. Others live for the weekend, ready to head out from their abode, into locations loud and boisterous. As for me, just let me fix a home-cooked meal, light a figurative fire in my hearth, and smoke a philosophical pipe among my closest friends. All I need are within these walls, and there is nothing I want that is not within my ready reach.

I like my things about me

A Heart Appetite.

I have an extreme love for good food. Starting a day off with a warm and hearty First Breakfast, Second Breakfast, elevensies, and so on just give the feeling of life to me. It isn’t that I live to eat; It’s just the satisfaction of the process feeds my soul as much as my body.

I appreciate a mulled wine, but have a penchant for meads or ales. However, I have a greater desire for control, so my libations are usually rare and few.

A blended tobacco, dried and rolled from whole leaf, is heavenly. While I indulge infrequently in such, I savor every time the fullness and sweetness of its smoke. I may find perhaps I prefer a pipe one day, but thus far, I have avoided yet that indulgence.

A Curious but Careful Imagination.

I have a penchant for news from other places and lands, and a healthy imagination for the details. I love not only to hear of the exploits of others, but the descriptions and explanations of how things come to pass, what makes things work they way they do, and how they came to be.

Don’t confuse my desire to be at home with an unwillingness to explore; Even as Bilbo went adventuring with his Thirteen Guests, this hobbit is fairly well traveled. After all, the wondrous foods, marvelous drinks, and the smell of the many lands of this Earth do beckon from afar.

Now, as to the nature of the stories I prefer, I despise the retelling of gossip, of insipid repetition of juicy bits of others’ lives. So you better listen well the first time I tell you.

Also, never let it be said that a hobbit is not a discriminating creature. I prefer the stories to be of wonder and mystery, not of personalities and misery. The entire genre of reality television and “e-tainment” programming misses me entirely. Hobbitty programming is informative, experiential, and exploratory.

I mention carefulness in imagination only to identify that while it is interesting how people can bungee-jump from bridges, parasail over shark-infested waters, and crawl into spider-infested caves to bring such adventures to mind, I would never even consider actually going and doing those things. We leave that to the other Peoples of the earth…decidedly not for hobbitses.

An Entertaining Spirit.

I love to have parties, though they are most often intimate affairs of less than thirty guests. Usually, these kinds of soirées are more accidental than intentional; I am not much for long-term plans. But once the party begins, it really takes on its own life. One of these parties, for example, went on for more than three days, as guests invited more guests, and one kind of special occasion begat another, and thence another… With experience in crowd control from working with trade shows and conventions, it was a manageable affair.

Perhaps other hobbits don’t like visitors at their hobbit hole. At mine, I rarely even lock the door, for it is most certain someone will be walking through it at any moment.

An Old Soul.

I have a perhaps irrational desire to make it to my eleventeenth birthday. I would hope to live a very long and happy life. But somehow, that number fascinates me. I may not actually attain centenarian status… but before I go, I will definitely have an eleventeenth birthday party. And I will invite all the friends I have ever known. So expect your invitation sometime in the next sixty years or so.
A Sense for the Magical.

I have never seen the world through other glasses than rose-colored ones. In my relationships there has always been the mystical connection between the intended and the incidental. In my world, things always happen for a reason. There are connections between us all that cannot be explained, only experienced, and that connectivity drives my pen every bit as much as my desire to share my world. Take this next sentence as an example.

I had a magic ring once, but I had to give it up.

That ring gave me a companion, I thought for life. I provided for the care of that ring, and the relationship it represented for more than two decades. The ring granted me long life, a sense of belonging, and a wish for descendants.

That ring took from me my individuality, my confrontational nature, and to a large part, my capacity to protect myself.

When I gave up the ring, I regained my freedom, my individuality, and my courage.

I said all of that, to say this. I KNOW that the ring only was a symbol, that the relationship was far more complex and involved than this excerpt can relate. I relate it because that is how I SEE it, even now. There is no magic in the ring… only in the belief that it is magical give the image its power. And so, I can sense the wonder and the magic of life because I give the world its magic.

A fellowship among the races.

I count among my friends Royalty, wizards, wanderers, and rogues. Really. I have close contact with persons of noble birth, commoners, mystics, heroes, adventurers, and more. When they need, they but ask. When I am in need, they come to my rescue. In all candor, the Fellowship had nothing on my friends. They helped me when I was lost, they guided me when I would go astray, they protected me from true Evil, and have withstood even demons that would tear asunder the very pillars of the world.

(see, that sense for the magical really helps!)

But in all candor, while I have myriad friends, those that hold the keys to my soul are the same ones that would hold the keys to my home. They are family in the truest sense of the word. (but I still keep the Sackville-Bagginses away from the larder!)

If you see the hobbit in you. why not join me in acknowledging it? It really is liberating to take ownership of who I am, and honestly, if someone painted my door green tomorrow, it would be good and fitting that they do so.

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