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What's So Wrong with Simple?

When I think about the person I was five(ish) years ago, I think fondly back. I loved myself. I was loving, carefree, smart, in touch, and adventurous. Here's the thing - everything I knew about myself five years ago is gone. I am not the same person. And I'm carrying much, much more baggage.

So I have started doing some reading. I'm reading everything I can about getting that beautiful simplicity back. And I started to realize, society as a whole has a negative opinion of simplicity. Think 'simple-minded,' 'simpleton' and the like. It seems, in our culture, the more complicated - the more smothered, the more covered life is, the better. 

What's so wrong with appreciating the quiet perspective of not having any major stresses? I have decided there isn't a single thing wrong with it. And I have resolved to find my own simple pace and existence. 

There's this sort of balance that'll be required of me though; I work a full-time, fairly high-stress job and learning how to be a mother and wife. Life isn't as easy as it once was - there's much more to consider and loads more responsibility. But that does not come at the cost of my happiness carefree-ness. I am determined to obtain that sensation of whimsy again. 

Actually, I credit my son, Dominic, for me getting to this point. Having him has given me the opportunity to reflect a great deal on my journey to this point in life. How did I get here - both the positive connotation and negative. Ever since having Dominic, I've been able to read more - maybe you wouldn't believe that, but it's true. Have you ever pumped breast milk? I'm not going to stare at the tiles on the wall the whole time, that's for sure. And the alone time that comes with that job is remarkably reflective - or it can be, at least. 

Every single day I work, I have to pump at least three times. Coming back to work when Dominic was two months old was both a monetary necessity and a family sacrifice. It was also a gift - a stressful gift, but a gift. I have been given the opportunity to provide wonderful benefits to my family as well as financial stability. There is a cost; I miss my son so much during the day. And speaking of days, holy hell are they long! That being said though, I am grateful for the position I am in. 

Every morning I get 45 minutes of commute all to myself. I can think and reflect on prior days, sip my coffee or tea, and maybe even listen to a podcast, radio show, or CD (remind me to tell you about my music taste sometime soon). And at least three times each day, I get the opportunity to make milk for my baby and read, or call a friend, or write a letter (pretty tricky, but possible), pay bills, or watch something on TV that I didn't get to watch the night before because I was spending those precious evening hours playing with my baby boy. 

Pumping breast milk. When I first came back to work, this was a source of guilt for me. I struggled with using company time for my family needs. I have spent countless hours rationalizing and derationalizing my guilt. It is certainly not easy. But you know who truly cares about my time away from my desk? Me. I'm the only one. I feel guilty because I am getting paid to sit in the room and pump milk. I feel guilty because there is a lot expected of me and my desk is always full of assignments. I feel guilty. But I'm a woman, a working woman, and I need to take time away from work periodically throughout my day to take care of my baby. What kind of person wouldn't be accepting of that?

Anyway - I have a lot to say. But what I'm thinking of today is this issue of simplicity. I believe if I reduce the noise around me, what noise I do have or make will be of a much higher quality. Less quantity, more quality. We've all heard that, right?

And I realized everything is connected, dammit. Before I had Dominic, I wore make up every day, without fail (in hindsight, I actually think I looked worse for it). When I was in my last trimester, I actually stopped because I didn't care enough to bother with it. My skin cleared up. People say that happens because of the influx of hormones. But it hasn't gone away yet. My skin is clearer now than it has been since before puberty knocked. I drink loads of water, I wash my face, and I don't wear make up. That's just the type of skin I have. 

So, less quantity, more quality. Make up is a great example - why did I own (until last night when I threw a bunch away) fifteen different eye shadows I never wear/wore? Shoes - the same, but more than fifteen. Clothes too, although I am still working on this mom-bod. I'm interested more in comfort now than fashion - eventually the two will unite, but until then, I plan to be comfortable. Music, knick-knacks, jewelry, kitchenware, books, EVERYTHING. I am paring down my cache of life. Digitally too - I am going to declutter my digital life as well - friend lists, newsletter subscriptions, apps on my phone, everything. 

You're wondering what this will yield me, right? Time to sit in the front yard in an Adirondack chair and watch my son play on a picnic blanket in the grass. Time to exercise. Time to spend with the people I love most. Time for naps. Time for adventures. Time. Time to do anything I please whenever the mood strikes. The most beautiful part of it all is that this is obtainable. 




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