Life is pretty simple, right?
But you wouldn’t think so, judging by the way we adorn our lives with: material possessions, must-havery, ‘be all you can be’, JFDI, success and all the other things that we ascribe to a life well lived.
I’m no student of Maslow — do you need to be? — but when you get right down to it, and you can learn a lot from old people, we don’t need much to: a) stay alive; and b) find contentment.
In my case, call it a faulty gene, programming or egoism but something always comes in from stage left, just when I think I’ve boiled things down to the bare essentials, and BOOM!, I upset the apple cart and I’m right back where I started. Still, I’ve not given up on my dream of going solo, buying a little van (no, not one of those VW bling, bling numbers) and going walkabout. I know, it all sounds so hackneyed. But for a long time now, I’ve wanted to travel around the British Isles. You might ask, what the hell that’s got to do with simplicity? Good question. Not much I suppose but I want to see how little I can live off and, thereafter, who knows, I might find that I don’t need a house and all the other stuff that goes with the territory of being a worker and retiree — not for a few more years yet.
Back to the title.
I’m convinced that most people get off on (i.e. it defines them and their lives) complexity. I don’t want to name and shame, but I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to listen to one lament after another that seems, if not self-initiated, then much less serious than the speaker would have me believe. I’m so tempted to say, but I’d know I’d offend the person, “Why do you insist on making your life so damn stressful. All you need do is say, no!” But I don’t. Instead, I have to patiently listen to another house of horrors story.
(A few things that come to mind to elucidate my previous paragraph. If you’ve got a big house, guess what, you’re going to spend a lot of time cleaning. If you’ve kids that refuse to grow up, you’re going to be running around after them well into your late 50s/early 60s. If you’ve got a job that sucks and you can’t bring yourself to do something about it — i.e. leave — then life is going to be pretty grim. If you insist on keeping up with the Joneses, even though you don’t have their financial clout or ability to swim with the sharks, then you’ll be forever chasing a Chimera of epic proportion.)
In the end, how you live your life is your choice but just once in a while it’s advisable to:
Stop and think.
And perhaps ask yourself:
Is this life one that’s nourishing my soul or a living hell?
Trust me, having been around people with everything and those with practically nothing, I know which camp I’d rather be in. This doesn’t mean you can’t have ambition and seek a degree of comfort but you may just find that what you thought would bring you happiness isn’t quite as delicious as the Ad Men would have you believe.
Anyhow, it’s Saturday and time to get with the programme.
Take care.
— JS
