The Simple Life

But it rarely is.

Simple. 

Oh sure, we simplify here, reduce there but we've still to wrestle our inner demons, even in the most blissful of locations. (That damn Monkey Mind.)

Perhaps I'm wrong. It could be that when you put everything in neat rows, elide all the shit and paint a pretty picture, so your mind settles and life becomes easier.

The thing is, I know what brings me joy -- spending time with my family, walking the dog, a cup of coffee, quiet music and a good book. The rest, well, it's often out of whack with how I'd like it to be and previously, drawn on mercilessly by the little voice in my head that tested the very fibre of my being, I'd be driven to order everything -- to keep up appearances if you wish (save the DIY -- not really my thing). It drove me mad. I found myself forever tidying up, judging myself by the perfect 'this' or 'that'. Why? Who really cares? It wasn't like I was hoping to sell my 'minimalist' shtick. 

What am I saying?

Be you, fully. Embrace the whole bloody thing even if, at times, it pisses you or other people off to a lamentable degree. 

I know, it sounds so lame -- "Be you" (oh please) -- but then again, I think we all know what truly floats our boats and there are only so many days left to live; and, trust me, no one, or at least not in my homestead, is going to judge you by how many times you decluttered, kept a perfect house, wore amazing clothes or had the most up to date lifestyle. 

Take care.

Blessings,

Julian

Photo by Dan-Cristian Pădureț on Unsplash 

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