Cheryl gave me the book for Christmas: Simple Living, a slim volume written by José Hobday, an American Indian nun. Sister José draws both from Native culture and life in a religious community to show that simplicity makes room in our lives for whatever is truly important. She writes about streamlining our food, clothing, transportation, housing, work, and recreation. I find that the effort to simplify is a valuable tool in the quest for life balance. The fewer dishes I pile in one stack, the more easily I can carry them to the kitchen; the fewer choices I entertain at once, the more easily I can fit them harmoniously into the available time.
The attraction of living more simply grows as I age. With the years, I have accumulated not only more "stuff" but also a growing list of interests, passions, and promises made; more friends; more activities, organizations, and causes; a longer list of things to see and do. One computer gave rise to two because I wanted to hang out in coffee shops to write on a laptop. A love of reading has only grown with the magic of e-books and the one-click online purchase. My new gym has more machines, a bigger pool, and a track. With three flavors of cold cereal, I always have a choice. And how many pairs of black shoes do I need?
I hear underlying questions about life balance, both from Sister José and from my own inner voice. Do more options lead to greater happiness? Would my life be more joyful if I ate the same combination of oatmeal and fruit every morning or if I wore the same outfit to work at home three days in a row?
When considering New Year's goals, a friend lamented, "I just can't add one more thing." Another friend wrote: "My challenge is to not-do some small things and create space for bigger things." I have seized the phrase "small not-doings" and made it my own. How about a not-to-do list? We add and less often remove: unread magazines, classes we want to take, home improvement projects, social events, or technological wonders.
Where can you create space in your life to balance doing with deliberate not-doing? What higher priority might fill that gap?
(For a few weeks, I am making time for a new writing project by re-publishing some favorite past Reflections from the collection in my book, Going Deeper. This one was first written several years ago during the New Years resolution season. I trust it will speak to many of you, as it does to me.)
