On Voluntary Simplicity

Jon Kabat-Zinn, mindfulness teacher, writes

I practice saying no to keep my life simple, and I find I never do it enough.  It’s an arduous discipline all its own, and well worth the effort.  Yet it is also tricky.  There are needs and opportunities to which one must respond.  A commitment to simplicity in the midst of the world is a delicate balancing act.  It is always in need of retuning, further inquiry, attention.  But I find the notion of voluntary simplicity keeps me mindful of what is important, of an ecology of mind and body and world in which everything is interconnected and every choice has far-reaching consequences.  You don’t get to control it all.  But choosing simplicity whenever possible adds to life an element of deepest freedom which so easily eludes us, and many opportunities to discover that less may actually be more.

Yup.

“…an element of deepest freedom…”

I appreciate his background in medicine, bringing mindfulness. I appreciate his invitation to a relationship with simplicity, to it’s befriending. Including the simplicity of busy things.

It has been one of my deepest awarenesses, in life and in facilitation, that I find myself often remembering and teaching — the inner is always connected to the outer; now is always connected to the longer arc.

Yup. Glad for the encouragements toward such practices that change it all.

Really Grateful

I’m really grateful for the people around me that so regularly offer insights. I’m talking friends. Friends who are colleagues. Friends who are colleagues who are so regularly sorting and crafting inspired ways of being in the world. Digital this and that makes it so readily available. Relational history and friendship makes it so heartfelt.

Here’s a sample. I enjoyed sips of coffee this morning, at the kitchen bar, and insights from each of these people.

There’s Katharine Weinmann. I read her blog often. She combines insights, poetry, stories, guidance. Today she writes on Self Compassion. I shared with Katharine, “Medicine. That I needed today.” I shared her post with my son, also perhaps needing such guidance.

There’s Janice Steiner Rous. We are friends that go back 20 years, originally through some work. She’s in her 70s. A fireball of energy and wisdom. Today she announced her new program, Navigating the Aging Body. I loved our little email exchange. I told her I was exploring threads of “acting my age.”

There’s Chris Corrigan. He texts me saying that he’s compiling a play list of music and culture to use for our work together in Texas. Chris also blogs regularly. Oodles of brilliance. His way of learning both excites and grounds me. Makes me want to be smart and kind.

There’s Saoirse Charis-Graves. I get to meet with Saoirse pretty regularly. Her authenticity in learning and becoming has regularly inspired me. Her poetry has such beautiful integration of the raw and of the journey to metabolize.

And, and, and.

Tomorrow, or later this week, it might be different sips of coffee. With others showing up with their offerings.

What a great thing to be in flow with such insights and encouragements. It often feels to me like there is much more than mere chance occurring when we offer, and receive, medicines, and people, in this way.

Really grateful.

Contentment

I suppose it is contentment that catches my attention in this photo. Curled up in sleep. Cozy on soft blanket. That’s Marmalade, a rather delightful house companion.

I suppose it is true that most of us seek layers of content. Baselines, or spiked seasons, that help us know who we are in our doing, our being, and our becoming.

I suppose it is true that most of us seek some basic humanities. Belonging. Sometimes safety. Sometimes risk. We seek fulfilling learning, presence, unfolding.

I suppose it is true that some days are more challenged than others. In ourselves. Or in our loved ones. Contentment feels foreign.

It is the work, and the life, for me, for many, in our families, with our neighbors, with ones we love in work and in community, and with ones we try to love in work and in community — to bring a certain contentment to the ever-learning path, no?

Taking Care of the Tissue of Life

Was glad to participate in this online gathering today, convened by Brooke Lavelle, Maha El-Sheikh, and others from Courage of Care.

This line stayed with me through the day, offered by Maytik Avirama and her co-host — “Wounds affect the tissue of life. Taking care of relationships takes care of the tissue of life.”

What a great invitation to practice.