Simplicity

In 1678, John Bunyan described the complaints of a man who had sought

…the Lusts, Pleasures, and Profits of this World; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise myself much delight; but now every one of those things also bite me, and gnaw me like a burning worm… I am now a man of Despair, and am shut up in it, as in [an] Iron Cage. I cannot get out; O now I cannot.

I have been thinking about two of my brothers-in-law: Mel, who grows his own vegetables and keeps bees and chickens, and Phil, who has recently written a blogpost about his attraction to a life of simplicity, and about how "glad and lightsome" he has become since deliberately releasing himself from the Burden of worldly possessions ... no, hang on; that was Bunyan again. Anyway, my husband and I, as the Queen would say, have been consequently arguing about what defines The Good Life, whether it depends on giving up one's favourite books and intellectual pastimes, as well as the more obvious luxuries.

From the (rather prosaically updated) 18th century Quaker booklet, Advices and Queries:

Try to live simply. A simple lifestyle freely chosen is a source of strength. Do not be persuaded into buying what you do not need or cannot afford. Do you keep yourself informed about the effects your style of living is having on the global economy and environment?

Choosing a life of simplicity is probably more fun when you have a favourable starting point and aren't forced into it by miserable circumstances. I suppose it's like choosing to stay at home when you could have been a working mum; if you had the luxury of choice in the matter you're in a better position than if you hadn't. It also helps if your life's partner is in agreement with you.

With everything in your favour, however, it still takes effort and determination to downsize. I don't decry it. I really admire this trend. I daydream of doing it myself one day, even to the extent of clearing out the clutter (3118 items, 3.14GB) lurking inside the "Documents" folder on my computer. It's no good trying to grow my own veg. though. I give up. We have too many squirrels, raccoons and chipmunks in this garden to whom my precious tomatoes are a magnet. The only stuff they leave untouched is Swiss chard.

'Tis a gift to be simple, tis a gift to be free

as Judy Collins sang in 1963 (the song was written in 1848 and is still being sung by other performers), but it's not that easy.