simple

If I plan things right, by the time I die I'll have only a bed, a kitchen table and chairs, a few pots and pans, a couple books, a pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, a few t-shirts, my dog and quiet guy by my side. Lately, I am into shedding stuff more than ever. Is it age, or a function of lingering hot flashes? Today, I cleared out another stack of books, several fabric swatches, a scratchy pillow case (ain't nobody got time for that), and a useless (though cute) lamp, which I have had no place to put since the day I picked it up at Goodwill, ten years ago.

These days, stuff weighs me down. It seems to take up mental space, as well as physical space, and I don't want to be tethered to things, only to people and art. It's weird, but in some ways, it seems that the less stuff I have, the more room in my heart for creativity and calm.

It reminds me of one of the authors I work with. She is an elegant older woman with a house full of treasures and a schweet, fancy car. She told me that, one summer, she went to Turkey to study languages and stayed in a small room with only a bed, chair, kitchen table and small shelf for a few clothes and books. She said that was her favorite summer ever. She spent her days talking to people on the streets, reading, learning, and translating words. She longs to return to that tiny simple lifestyle one day for good. I always remember her story. It sounds so enticing. As the Shakers said, " 'Tis a gift to be simple".