Simplicity

I spend an hour or so each morning reading and drinking coffee before going to work. I work for myself in a business I started in desperation five years ago when my husband became ill. I was still employed as a child abuse investigator (read overworked and underpaid) and he could no longer work; thus a business was born. It's been a success and I was able to leave that very sad and stressful full time work 18 months ago. The blessing has been vastly improved finances and a greater degree of freedom.

And yet I am drawn to living simply. I do not, by any stretch of the imagination, even come close to doing it. But at my age, I am entirely done with the acquisitional urges which drove me in my younger years. I am drowning in stuff, made worse by the fact of being an antiques dealer. Ten years ago I read a book called Your Money or Your Life and was filled with longing for a different kind of life. It's complicated by the fact of my being a collector, though I feel completely done with that, and my husband being one too, and definitely not done. We collect, amass, gather, fill up ~ the house is so lovely and so full. I have a warehouse packed to the rafters and we've expanded the space three times. It just feels like too much and I want desperately to clear out the stuff so I can feed my soul.

Kathy Mattea has a song called Standing Knee Deep in a River and the lyrics touched me deeply when I first read them:

Friends I could count on
I could count on one hand
With a left over finger or two
I let them all slip away
Where they are I wish I knew
They roll by just like water

And I guess we never learn
Go through life parched and empty
Standing knee deep in a river dying of thirst

Sometimes I remember
Sweethearts I've known
Some I've forgotten I suppose
One or two still linger
Oh and I wonder now
Why I ever let them go
They roll by just like water

And I guess we never learn
Go through life parched and empty
Standing knee deep in a river dying of thirst

The sidewalk is crowded
The city rolls by
And I rush through another day
In a world full of strangers
Turn there eyes to me
And just look the other way
They roll by just like water

And I guess we never learn
Go through life parched and empty
Standing knee deep in a river dying of thirst

There is, for me, more to this eating thing than just eating. It is about finding what's real in this life and connecting to it. I think I've skipped over feeding my soul in favor of feeding my body to excess. When I am too busy, too tired, too too too just too, I can grab a bunch of cookies or a candy bar or three and find the strength to go beyond where I ought to stop. Too much work is too much work. Too busy is too busy. It sounds trite and silly, but I am coming from a life where I've often worked two jobs, had a professional career that demanded 60 hours a week and untold hours of worrying and fretting over decisions made. I grew my business from a little extra money made in my kitchen to this huge enterprise in this enormous space and it's too much.

These are the thoughts of the day, this Monday when I'm feeling enthusiastic and excited about the prospect of not only changing my physical being, but of finding a way to live that feeds my spirit and fills me up on the inside so I don't have to do it from the outside. It's a work in progress, but I think I can do it.