Posts tagged with "simplicity"


Involuntary Simplicity

White is the new green. Since the snow arrived, we have been, in our small neighbourhood, summarily conscripted to the sustainability movement. The recalibration effect of being snowbound for a fortnight has taken us back to simpler pleasures and more sustainable ways of living. Our cars, looking like big, badly bubble-wrapped packages, are littered round the roadside, going nowhere. Work has been done from home, provisions have been communally organised.  We have renewed our sense of community. So would we become volunteers when the thaw sets in and we regain freedom of movement and choice? Would I?

The positives are piling up: walking daily in the fresh air through pristine snow: being creative with basic ingredients: not spending money: undertaking immediate and necessary physical tasks: getting satisfaction from eking out resources; tearing up the diary and living in the moment; appreciating home comforts; being a neighbour and citizen not a consumer.

So what’s not to like when the ice melts? Where is the rub in the rural idyll? Hardship does not come into it. It has only been two weeks. Isolation has hardly been the issue either. With broadband and mobile phones, television and radio, we have as much contact as we want with the rest of the world.  We have always rated home cooking more highly than eating out. Social life has continued in a different form. Cosy chats in the kitchen instead of the glamour of the urban gin palaces and tinselled emporia.

But it’s worth thinking about the potential barriers to signing up to this lifestyle for the longer haul: it is no surprise that the ego is beginning to look for a get out of jail card. The ego rails against the restriction on freedom, the compromised autonomy and the limitation of choice represented by no quick getaways in the car, no ordering online (no point, no post) and no exotica in the supermarket when we eventually manage to get there.  Limes and coriander are the new basics aren’t they? The ego was never going to like being buried in snow for long.

 And there is something else: lack of novelty is harder to pin down but has something to do with the constant influx of the new in one’s life, new ideas, the next big thing, new copy, new stuff, the ever changing stimuli needed to feed restless appetites, self-expression through knowing, having and being the latest, the most original, the best.

So one of the most challenging aspects of voluntary simplicity is coming to terms not just with not needing new stuff (several little black dresses are partying on their own in the wardrobe with nowhere to go), but also the more subtle things like not getting to the coolest café, not knowing about the next big thing, withdrawing from the frontline of recognition. “I’m out there, therefore I am” might have to become, “I am secure in myself, therefore I am”. That really would be le dernier cri.

Footnote: the secret of happiness has now been revealed; the secret of happiness is, as previewed by one of our group in Knoydart, a dry pair of socks.

Posted: December 11, 2010 | Author: Sheila Smith | Comments: Add 

The Perfect Picnic

The Perfect Picnic

As the vividness of the Knoydart experience retreated and the peaceful internal space it created became harder to access, I clung on to a couple of physical reminders: the remnants of a slice of carrot cake scrunched up in foil, retrieved from the bottom of my rucksack; the evocative feu de bois aroma from the camp fire which had permeated my jacket. In time the little package of cake crumbs disappeared into the bin eventually and the jacket went into the wash. I still have the glittery precious stone given to me by a group member because she had two and I had none. And I still have the photographs.

This photo brings back a special memory. While we were engaging in difficult conversations and dealing with complex emotions, Rob had been giving his attention to making a fabulous carrot cake for us and then bringing it down to the beach with a hot drink. It was the perfect picnic.

This is a particularly beautiful memory now on this very wintry day, looking out at a  whitened out landscape where picnic possibilities are unlikely. It is a particularly useful memory for me as my mind has been taken up with endlessly trying to make meaning of the recurrent themes of silence and language, maps and metaphors and of course engaging in daily skirmishes with toxic egocentricity. It strikes me now that I can struggle with the meaning of silence and the problems of ego all I like, but I cannot deny the simple life affirming pleasure of beautiful food eaten outside. This stands for itself and doesn’t need interpretation. Some things just are. So thanks for the memory Rob.

Posted: November 27, 2010 | Author: Sheila Smith | Comments: Add