Monday, May 18, 2009

Simplicity, Peace, and Running

I've decided to train for and run a marathon. I know that part of this decision is fueled by my compulsive need to have tangible goals and plans. At a time when much of my life seems uncertain, I tend to gravitate towards tasks that are straightforward and goal-oriented. That being said, I have been wondering if and how running connects to my voluntary simplicity journey and the concept of peace. Here is what I've come up with thus far...

Running is the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other. It is one of the simplest and accessible forms of exercise in that you need little equipment except your own body and a good pair of shoes. Yet there is an inherent complexity in this simple act. I acknowledge my place of privilege in that I am able-bodied and have the physical health to run - many people throughout the world are not able to engage in what, to me, is a simple and enjoyable act. Running is predictable - if you look ahead and stay focused, you will most probably reach your intended goal. Yet, you cannot get your mind too far ahead of your body or you run the risk of disconnect. Running takes sacrifice. Sometimes you have to force your body to move when it would rather lay dormant. At the end of the day, though, running brings me a sense of peace and calm that help center me and bring me home. I like the rhythmic repetition. I like the challenge of doing something that does not come most naturally to me. I like knowing that this is something at which I will be okay with being average. I can get joy from running without feeling that pressure of perfectionism that drives a lot of things in my life.

For me, voluntary simplicity is like running in that the journey towards a simpler life is a long, complex one made up of the simplest choices and steps. It is also a movement of privilege in that it is a movement of the middle class. Involuntary poverty looks and feels very different than voluntary simplicity because voluntary simplicity involves conscious choices and a sense of freedom. A simple life might often look like a predictable one, although embedded in the predictability is both ambiguity and change. It does not come naturally to me always, and my desire to live a peaceful, simpler life challenges me daily to move outside of my comfort zone and let go of the need to be perfect. It is about seeing the beauty in imperfection and about learning how to be forgiving of myself and my mistakes. Paradoxically, however, simplicity looks like peace and feels like home.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

So Proud

So proud of this guy, not only because of this (see #4 ranking) but more importantly because of the person he is. He inspires me everyday to live a life of conviction and meaning and he reminds me constantly - through the choices he makes - that sometimes all you need to make life more beautiful is to see the world through new eyes.  

Monday, April 6, 2009

Perfect Day...

... coffee and conversation with my sister-in-law in the a.m. and gardening all afternoon with my brother. More later, but I just wanted to get this post started so I don't forget to write it. 

I'm coming back to finish this post a few weeks after I had intended, but here it goes. 

Sometimes, simplicity comes when we are reminded that life is more about who you are with than anything else. If we can keep spending time with the people we love central to our lives, then maybe everything else will fall into place without much effort. And sometimes, the most beautiful moments are those unplanned hours spent in good company engaged in good work. 

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Clearing Away the Clutter

Although simplifying my physical space is only one facet of my journey toward a simpler life, I am constantly amazed at just how difficult this task is for me. No matter how much I clear out, donate, recycle, organize... it still seems like there is so much clutter still left over. I am inspired by those who have successfully lived according to the rules of "the compact,"  those who are living in small spaces, those who are reducing their possessions to only a set number of things. Period.

When I was little my family lived on a 27-foot sailboat. We also lived on a boat-access only island where everything we wanted to get to and from the island had to be transported in our very small, not-so-reliable boat. This next week I am going to ask my parents questions about this time in our lives - much of which I was too young to remember with much clarity - and then see what lessons I learn that I can apply to my life today. There is something beautiful about not being hindered, bogged-down, controlled by our stuff. There is also something difficult about shifting our minds away from the consumer mentality that drives so much of people's day-to-day interactions.

All I really want is to be free and to be able to focus my energy on the people, ideas, and actions that truly mean something to me. Everything else is going to have to fade away, be given away, or be just let go of. 

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Getting Married...

No, not me... my little brother. I am so excited for him and the wonderful woman he is marrying as they start this new adventure in their lives together. I have no doubt that they'll enjoy the journey. 

Thursday, March 12, 2009

The journey of 1,000 miles begins with a single step - or - Reflecting on the journey

I realized even though I read other people's blogs everyday, I haven't posted on my own in almost two months. Hmmm... again, I've sat here waiting for the perfect post to come and then write nothing. As a writer, I should know this process doesn't work that way. Sometimes I just have to put the words down with them and then perfect them later. So here we go...

Sometimes I don't think much about simplicity until I wake up one morning, my mind racing with all the things I "have" to do and all the deadlines I "have to meet." It's almost like I wait until I'm forced to take a deep breath before I take the time to look around and ask those all-important questions about my life, questions like:
What am I doing?
Where am I going?
Why am I doing what I'm doing and going where I'm going?

I think that voluntary simplicity is as much about consciousness and intention as anything else. In that way, choosing to live more simply is very much like the writing process. You start off with an idea, a vision, a goal. Then you give it a shot, as messy as that first attempt might look. And then to pare it down, and pare it down some more. Sometimes you have to stop and breathe, scream, jump around the room. Or do whatever it takes to refocus yourself. And then you keep at it. Even if you end up with a final product in mind, if you don't take pleasure in the journey then the end product can never be as beautiful.

I've realized that there are a lot of things I like about my own simplicity journal. I like the satisfaction of cleared spaces -- in my home, in my life, in my mind. I like planning the next steps. I like the feeling of free moments. I like knowing that I'm trying, albeit imperfectly, to reduce my footprint on the earth. And I like stopping once in a while to reflect on how far I've come and how good it feels to enjoy the journey.