"Those were simpler times."
The comment came from my mother-in-law. We were gathered at Grandma's house and had just spent the evening entertained by younger versions of my husband and his seven siblings. We watched as eight children, dressed to the nines (as only Catholic children can be on Easter), baskets dangling from their cherubic little arms, toddled hither and yon in search of the coveted Easter eggs.
Her comment came in response to my question, "how did you do it?"
Grandma died in 1989. I'm not sure how long before that the above evening took place, but those words have stayed with me all these years. They play over and over in my head. She said it so matter-of-factly. She brushed it off as if raising eight children had been no big deal because "those were simpler times."
This past week, Marc and I spent some time at Sam A. Baker State Park. We stayed in a cabin, which afforded us the luxury of heat, a refrigerator, stove, and running water. Yet it was similar to camping in its simplicity. We had no TV. We turned off our phones (other than a few conversations with our kiddos). Wi-fi was available, but we didn't use it. We slept in. We spent our mornings snuggled in blankets on the front porch with a cuppa Joe and a book. We hiked, ate lunch by the river, played Scrabble, grilled, and sat around the campfire. In four days, I found more rest than I had found in the ten days we spent at the beach last September.
For years, I have longed to simplify my life. For years, it has eluded me. How can I live a simple life when I work full-time, have friends, family, commitments, a home, a husband, children, and a grandchild? There is so much I want to do. There are so many people I want to spend time with. Is a simple life even attainable in the 21st century?
It may not be possible to go back to the simplicity of which my mother-in-law spoke. Our world has become too fast-paced and dripping with technology for that, but I think my week at Sam A. Baker enlightened and inspired me. Without making a radical shift in my lifestyle (I'm not ready to churn my own butter or even quit my job), I want to make a few simple changes to calm the constant chaos.
I know that, for me, information overload has been an issue, so I've canceled all my e-newsletters except those that are truly helpful. I've canceled a workshop and a day-long conference - neither of which I really need right now. I've also decided that I don't have to read or answer e-mails the moment I hear that chime, and I plan to keep the Sabbath, to allow myself a day of rest each week. Those are for starters, and I'm open to suggestions.
In the maelstrom of daily life, I find myself rushing from person to place to thing, checking each off my list in hopes that when I reach up to turn off my bedside lamp that night, I can fall asleep without the dangling remnant of a task undone. While I may not be able to duplicate the simplicity of life in the 60's, my hope is to make enough room to treasure the journey and everyone I meet along the way.
The comment came from my mother-in-law. We were gathered at Grandma's house and had just spent the evening entertained by younger versions of my husband and his seven siblings. We watched as eight children, dressed to the nines (as only Catholic children can be on Easter), baskets dangling from their cherubic little arms, toddled hither and yon in search of the coveted Easter eggs.
Her comment came in response to my question, "how did you do it?"
Grandma died in 1989. I'm not sure how long before that the above evening took place, but those words have stayed with me all these years. They play over and over in my head. She said it so matter-of-factly. She brushed it off as if raising eight children had been no big deal because "those were simpler times."
This past week, Marc and I spent some time at Sam A. Baker State Park. We stayed in a cabin, which afforded us the luxury of heat, a refrigerator, stove, and running water. Yet it was similar to camping in its simplicity. We had no TV. We turned off our phones (other than a few conversations with our kiddos). Wi-fi was available, but we didn't use it. We slept in. We spent our mornings snuggled in blankets on the front porch with a cuppa Joe and a book. We hiked, ate lunch by the river, played Scrabble, grilled, and sat around the campfire. In four days, I found more rest than I had found in the ten days we spent at the beach last September.
For years, I have longed to simplify my life. For years, it has eluded me. How can I live a simple life when I work full-time, have friends, family, commitments, a home, a husband, children, and a grandchild? There is so much I want to do. There are so many people I want to spend time with. Is a simple life even attainable in the 21st century?
It may not be possible to go back to the simplicity of which my mother-in-law spoke. Our world has become too fast-paced and dripping with technology for that, but I think my week at Sam A. Baker enlightened and inspired me. Without making a radical shift in my lifestyle (I'm not ready to churn my own butter or even quit my job), I want to make a few simple changes to calm the constant chaos.
I know that, for me, information overload has been an issue, so I've canceled all my e-newsletters except those that are truly helpful. I've canceled a workshop and a day-long conference - neither of which I really need right now. I've also decided that I don't have to read or answer e-mails the moment I hear that chime, and I plan to keep the Sabbath, to allow myself a day of rest each week. Those are for starters, and I'm open to suggestions.
In the maelstrom of daily life, I find myself rushing from person to place to thing, checking each off my list in hopes that when I reach up to turn off my bedside lamp that night, I can fall asleep without the dangling remnant of a task undone. While I may not be able to duplicate the simplicity of life in the 60's, my hope is to make enough room to treasure the journey and everyone I meet along the way.
Ahhh I feel the peace falling on even me. Sis D
ReplyDeleteHOORAY momma!!!
ReplyDeleteIf you churned butter the way we did in the 60s, it wouldn't help you simplify your life!! I'm sure you can do it with some electric gadget these days, but back then ours was kid powered :-)
ReplyDelete