More than a century ago, Henry David Thoreau said: “Simplify. Simplify.” From my perspective, these words are perhaps more important today than they were then. The “simplicity movement” has become popular recently, but more from a practical point of view than from a spiritual perspective. Bookcases could be filled with the books and magazines that tell us how to live a simple life or rather how to make our lives less complex and more sustainable.
But this column is not about how to live simply, but rather why we might want to live simply, about the gifts of living with the awareness of the abundance in our lives and that abundance is enough.
One of the gifts of simplicity is also a necessity for living the simple life — attentiveness or awareness. When one lives simply, one becomes aware of what is lasting and most important in our lives. We become aware that our possessions have the ability to take over our souls. We become aware of the holy in our lives. We become aware of the significance of relationships in our lives. By simply slowing down, by decluttering our lives of the extraneous, we find what is good in our lives, what gives us purpose, what our calling is.
The gift of simplicity builds community. We are bound together, and we depend upon each other. We live lives based on mutuality. Simplicity allows us to work together and be together in our journey toward what is essential: the knowledge that we, together, can build a better, more just world and we can do that by simply sharing; sharing ideas, sharing resources, and sharing our faith in humanity and our dreams of the common good.
Living simply can turn everyday life into the sacred. In the midst of the ordinary we become aware of the holy. Living simply allows us the time and space to step back and recognize that which is good and right and true.
The gift of simplicity enables those who welcome it to make difficult choices with some level of confidence. Each and every day, choices — beguiling and demanding — confront us. By living simply, we learn how to discern what we do for ourselves alone and what we can do for the common good. Choices become clear.
The gift of simplicity enlivens the imagination. Slowing down, becoming more aware, our imagination can become active again; we can be creative; we can do that which energizes our hearts and minds and spirits.
The gift of simplicity charters a license to create. So often in our complex lives, we do but we don’t create. Creativity is generated from the ability to let something ferment, to take time, to come from within. If we are busy bustling around, how can we let our inner genius come out? Altogether too often we find that creative im-pulse squashed.
Remember as a child how we were constantly creating —drawing, singing, acting, playing — our lives were creation itself. At some point, however, we lost it. No, not all of us, but most of us. We lost it to what we called necessity — the necessity of being successful in the world, of paying the bills, of getting more stuff, of being seen as a particularly intelligent or dedicated person. In that process of becoming a reasonable adult within our culture, we lost our ability to just let our creative juices flow. Living simply provides the environment, the time to be who we are, which means we retrieve our creativity.
Expectations often keep us busy and force us to fuss over what we plant and cultivate, work and do, harvest and store. Admittedly we need to plant, and work and harvest, but if we get overly busy, we can overlook the wild and wonderful beauty in our lives. Consider what might be more important — something like appreciating the dawn, the color of the light, the shimmer of green, the purple of the sky? A simpler life allows you time to be dazzled by our world and by those around us. Dazzlement is a benefit of simplicity.
Simplicity grants strength, especially a strength of purpose. In some ways, it takes the fear out of our lives. Fear as in: Will I succeed? Will I have more than my neighbor? Will I have enough to live on? Granted we are not guaranteed sufficient money if we live simply, but we simply won’t use quite as much. This reduction in fear lends us strength.
During the process of simplicity, we are called to clarity, especially clarity in how we live and what we value. We become clear about our priorities. We are able to make distinctions about our motives and whether they affect the common good.
The gift of simplicity produces an impulse to support justice. Living simply is an act of justice, of using only what is necessary, of setting priorities for our communities so that we can all be treated equally, so that no one goes without. Living simply means having right relationships with yourself and with others, and right relationships lead to justice.
The gift of simplicity can be healing. It can be a balm to our wearied, scared souls. Sometimes simplicity offers the time to heal. And, in other ways, the process of deciding to live simply is a process of healing in and of itself. We also stop wounding ourselves with the need to have more or be more. We love ourselves for who we are.
The gift of simplicity is a gift of understanding who we are, where we hope to go, and what the common good is. Simplicity allows us to become more spiritual, to follow the path toward understanding the mystery of all that is. Simplicity is a spiritual practice, a practice that can lead to a deeper knowing about God, or Goddess, or Mystery or Allah or whatever we call holy.
Living simply is a journey that can be described as abundant, varied, deep and whole. Living simply is as spiritual as it is practical.
The Rev. Becky Gunn is minister of the Unitarian Universalist Society of Bangor. She may be reached at uubeckygunn@aol.com. Voices is a weekly commentary by Maine people who explore issues affecting spirituality and religious life.