Over a decade ago I was a frazzled working mum with one of those young children who could be described as a 'spirited child'. I was finishing a part-time PhD in musicology whilst teaching at two local universities - sometimes alongside other part time jobs - and my life felt incredibly complex. The house was overrun with toys. I had stacks of unread books and papers towering over me. I was rushing from here to there - commuting, nursery pick-ups, weekend activities, late night lecture writing. My levels of ambition for my future were high and I was giving papers at international conferences, writing journal articles and trying to get my work published in as many different places as I could. But I had reached crisis point and I was not satisfied with my life. I knew something had to change.
The question that kept coming into my mind was ‘how do I live a simpler life?’
How do I live a simpler life?
This question has acted as a touchstone for me for all these years since that point. In my naivety I initially thought that there was one answer and done - an equation that you enact by subtracting this and adding that and everything would balance perfectly. Each time I think I’ve got it ‘right’ and things are simple for a while, then something changes and I need to return to the question, to the touchstone. I have to ask each new version of myself, in each iteration of my changing, unfolding life ‘how do I live a simpler life?’
Sometimes the answer comes clearly: ‘You have too many commitments right now’. ‘The mugs are overcrowding the cupboard’. ‘You could do with taking more rest time’. But other times I have to turn the question over and over in my mind, like a pebble, my thoughts doing the work of smoothing off the edges in my life. I reframe it, rerun it, reignite the energy in the question. Sometimes it’s ‘what would feel most nourishing right now?’1 Other times, ‘what would bring me joy?’ or ‘how much am I living in alignment with my deepest values?’ I try to tap into a deeper wisdom in the bones of my being. To make space for that small yet insistent voice which is covered over by the doing, by the consumerist trappings, by the ambition. Here, there’s a knowing… if I can get still and quiet enough.
Even though I still have to reccurringly ask myself this question about simplicity, I have learned many lessons and things that help. I am closer to a sense of simplicity than I have ever been. And yet it also eludes me. The modern world crowds in with an overload of stimulus, information, things to do, versions of my self to be. And I long to be steady and grounded in my life, in the midst of all that noise. As I move towards 50 at the end of this year, I feel the question arising again, more emphatically. So this next series of posts will be a way for me to return to that question again and again, from different angles and perspectives. I’ll share what I have learned - particularly things that have worked and made a huge difference, the books and films I’ve loved that share practices of simple living or have made me question how I’m going about life, and I’ll share the ways in which I trip up and fail and try again! Sometimes simplicity can actually be a little scary and hard. I’ll share about this too. I long for simplicity and then I meet the shadow side - the boredom, my own addiction to busy-ness and overthinking, how I sometimes push myself to go too far into renunciation and minimalism and can feel like I’m peering over the edge into an abyss!
This week, to begin thinking more deeply about simplicity, I asked some of my dearest friends for their take on the subject. I asked:
What does a simple contented life look like to you?
One friend likes the challenge of complexity in her life, but she finds a sense of simplicity by rooting into the things that help keep her steady: her values of kindness, compassion, and the ability to turn towards whatever she’s experiencing. Another likes to have a really free schedule, and would love - in this day and age of lengthy to-do-lists and productivity apps - to only have one thing in her diary each day. As she moves towards retirement, that is becoming more and more possible, and she’s relishing the space. A family member said she felt content when there was space for simple actions of care in her life - for meditation, a chat with a friend, burning essential oils and a little gardening. I asked my good friend Satya for her take, and she’s going to reflect soon through her own writing in Going Gently.
I can see that each of us finds our own way to simplicity and contentment, through our particular lens and values, our personality traits and ways of being in the world. Finding our way to simplicity needs time and reflection on who we are, what we love, and how we want to show up in our lives.
I’d love to hear about your version of simplicity in the comments and over the next few posts as we explore the topic together.
Local Alresford/Hampshire friends - I’m running a six week Introduction to Meditation course beginning on 27th Feb. Places are limited to ten so book in quick if you’d like to join us!
With thanks to my dear herbalist teacher Marysia Miernowska for setting this question so deep in my heart over the last few years
Lovely piece and I look forward to the ones that are coming - such important questions. My piece goes up on Tuesday x
I am retired now and love that I few pressures to be or do anything. I still have too many books to read though 😊