Confession: I have neglected this website for about two years.
I’m back at it for a few reasons. One is that I’m now close enough to the age of retirement (I’m 64) that I think I need a public forum that will help me find meaning in this process. Two is that I keep finding that people ask men and women of my age for their wisdom. Having little of that, I nonetheless find that writing helps me articulate some of my perceptions about life. An almost old man needs a place and time to try to make sense of life.
So let me jump right in with what’s on my mind today: simplicity happens after a long period of complexity. For example, at my age I’m still juggling counseling schedules, teaching assignments, public speaking engagements, writing projects, music practice and performances, social life, exercise, married life, grandchildren, extended family, professional trips to conferences and meetings, personal vacation trips. My life is seriously complicated. It has been for a long time.
Strangely, though, it feels relatively simple. I get up early each morning and go for a 4 to 5 mile walk and run. Then I work 3 to 4 hours in the morning, take 1 to 2 hours for a lunch break, work 2-3 hours in the afternoon. Go for a bike ride, watch the news, talk with Susan, read or watch some of our favorite TV shows or a movie, check my email and look at Facebook one last time, and read until I start dropping the magazine. It’s really a pretty simple day. It’s almost as good as a vacation trip, except that I’m dealing with people who need serious help.
What’s the difference between simplicity and complexity? It might be routine. When my day is disciplined and predictable, I think I’m living a simple life.
That said, I must add the one bit of wisdom my patients have taught me: simplicity without adventure is not meaningful enough. So maybe simplicity needs complexity so that complex problems can surprise us with some regularity and keep simply living from becoming boring.
Perhaps this blog will help me stay alive and happy as I try to hang onto the simple pleasure of sharing.