The Simple Things...

'"Tis the gift to be simple,'tis the gift to be free,'tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,And when we find ourselves in the place just right, It will be in the valley of love and delight." ~ Elder Joseph Brackett, jr., "Shaker Hymn"


The first lines of the hymn quoted just above are among my favorite, not just among songs sung in worship, but of inspirational poetry, as well. Written in 1848, this hymn is relatively new in the grand scheme of Christian worship songs. The Shakers were considered radical, even by their founding denomination, the Quakers. Therefore, it's all the more extraordinary that this beautiful song not only made its way into most Protestant hymnals of all denominations, but became a popular melody for other pieces, including Aaron Copeland's "Appalachian Piece". The simple, inspiring, deeply moving beauty of this song has brought it lasting fame. Additionally, the additional lyrics, which speak of friendship, understanding, compassion and utterly unadulterated joy, resonate with mainstream society today, as much as they must have in the Shaker community in Alfred, Maine, in the mid-19th century.


One of the most common conversations I have with both my yoga students, and my friends, recently, has been a longing for a return to the simple things in life. Although very few want to renounce all their wordly possessions and join ashrams or monasteries, all yearn for a time of uncomplicated lives. Some dream of the carefree days of childhood in which there was nothing more pressing than riding bikes or catching fireflies. Others are beginning to find that technology, designed to make life easier, has actually increased stress and demands on their time. The sad fact is that life has become increasingly demanding, difficult and drama-filled. We spend our days running from place to place, we live in fear of losing our jobs and our homes. We read books about decluttering our homes, and yet, we think we need more to fill the void. We worry about our children's exposure to the ugliness of life, long after they have been desensitized through years of television and movies. We find ourselves running on a hamster wheel every day, never getting ahead and always feeling as we need to stay on that wheel...or something dreadful will happen. It becomes a never ending cycle.


The sad truth is that we are our own hamster wheel. We wake up every morning, and we climb onto that circle and we begin to run...and run. We make that choice of our own volition. While we can blame society all we like, we choose to check email ten times a day and we choose to create drama in our lives, where there needn't be any. There are stresses we simply can't avoid. We have to work to pay our bills, provide for our families and put food on the table. But, we can choose to release those areas in our lives that simply aren't working for us with any benefit. We can decide to walk away from unchangeable, unmanageable situations. We can say "no" when we want to. I have a wonderful friend who had a great deal of trouble not agreeing to volunteer for every job she was asked to do. She became very close to burn out in all areas of her life from spreading herself far too thinly. So, she came up with a response that would keep her from feeling rude, and yet, would get her off the hook. When asked "Will you run this program this year?", she smiled kindly and said, "No, but thank you very much for thinking of me."


"No, but thank you very much for thinking of me" has become one of my mantras. I, too, have been a 'helpaholic'. When asked to step in and assist, I generally do agree. Why? Because I do believe in service to my community. The question is knowing how to pick and choose, and when to say "When". Simplifying our lives does not mean relinquishing all of our commitments. Some of them are critically important. Where would the world be if everyone said "No!" and stayed home? The trick is finding that all important balance of what we can do to benefit others, our families, ourselves and our communities, without risking our own well being in doing so. There is not a magic formula for this balance. Some people have a higher tolerance for multi-tasking than others. But, for everyone, taking the time to pause, to truly consider all the possibilities before agreeing to a job (or saying "No, thank you") can give you the much needed moments to discover if the position is viable. All too often, we are pressured into making an impulsive decision on the stop. After years of agreeing immediately, I've discovered that, in 24 hours, or even in 12 hours, my choices are more sound and I have fewer regrets in either direction of a decision.

Simplicity is not as easy to achieve as it can feel when we're yearning for it. The truth is that we like our computers, we like our stylish clothes and well running cars and we like our modern amenities. Even those of us who set simplicity as a goal find ourselves pulled towards 'keeping up with the Joneses'. For many people, myself included, this is far less to do with envy, and far more to do with admiration. We see something we like, from a convenient kitchen appliance to photos from a restful, but beautiful, trip, and we think "Wow! That looks amazing! I want that too!". We come to realize that in making our lives simple, we still create more work. Making our peace with the idea that simplicity doesn't always equal ease is a crucial concept. In Yoga, one of most basic asanas is also one of the most challenging. Staff Pose involves sitting upright, with flexed feet and long legs in front of your body, and a straight back. The yogini's head is pulled in alignment with her spine, and her goal is to create a perfect L with her body. As basic as this may appear, it actually involves an enormous amount of concentration and core strength. Our first impulse is to slump forward. Then, we want to bend our legs and our head will naturally weigh our neck off balance. Even in this seemingly uncomplicated pose, we find we must work very hard to achieve our goal of balance.


Simplicity can mean a variety of things to a variety of people. It might mean letting go of areas in our lives that are doing more harm than good. It could mean changing our behaviors to find joy in smaller achievements, rather than enormous ones. It could be as genuine as "just saying no". It might mean reevaluating our priorities. Or, it might be a question of releasing negative emotions. Does it mean we must relinquish our lives as we know them? Of course not. But, it might take some clearness of thought to illuminate ways to help ourselves become happier. The goal of the Shakers wasn't to deprive themselves and to be miserable. It was to eliminate distractions so that they could more clearly see the Light. I hope that, in your own quest to simplify, your path will be gently illuminated, as well.