One of the things that has surprised me as I have written about humility for an extended period of time is the number and variety of ways that humility manifests itself in so many other aspects of our lives: because of humility, other things happen and/or manifest themselves.
Another one that inserted itself into my consciousness this week was simplicity.
Simplicity is something which minds and voices far more melodious and mellifluous than mine have spoken on with great authority. I can only speak to the effects of simplicity on my own life; theirs the reasoning of it and benefits behind it.
If I think on it, simplicity is often connected with humility although perhaps somewhat by accident: those that live simple lives are often humble, and we in the West at least (but also, I think elsewhere) associate those that sworn to live humble lives of service - such as monks and nuns - are associated with simplicity.
I sit here, writing this on a Saturday morning, hardly in a setting of simplicity by simple examination. I live in an urban area as I have for most of my adult life, which is by default is neither associated with simplicity or humility. I have a home, which has things - many things, it could be argued - that I really do not need or need only in specific situations.
And yet, my life at this moment radiates a certain simplicity - and with it, a humility that is unexpected.
This is the first weekend in over a month that I have not been training, traveling, or scurrying around trying to catch up on the weekends. It is hot (for here, anyway) this weekend, so my plans largely involved "staying in".
I have had the simple luxury of slightly sleeping in, of multiple cups of good coffee not slammed down between meetings, of being able to read at a relaxed pace. I have made cheese already with yogurt planned for tomorrow. A the Cat has taken to napping on a box of photo albums in what is officially called The Rabbit's Room; J The Rabbit is here in her cage with the cage door open, not feeling the need to come out but aware that she can, cleaning herself (a sign of trust; no animal cleans themselves when they feel unsafe).
These strike me as simple things in an age of media and frenzied activity and InterWeb wonder and the idea that "out there" is where enjoyment is.
But here is the funny thing as I sit and think about the situation: the sense of serenity and peace and, dare I say, humility, that comes from all of this.
Inherently there is nothing pride inducing about a cup of coffee or a napping cat or the words of Epictetus, of doing laundry or cleaning house (later today, of course). They is nothing inherently glamourous or glorious about them, nothing that possess me to brag on them.
There is a connection I can intuit here but not fully make. This sense, at this moment...I do not fully have the words for it. It is the sense one has when it is raining and one is inside with a hot beverage and a book, watching it all. It is the quiet awe that sits on one when, miles and miles from civilization, one looks upon a wilderness and wildness largely untouched by humans.
Perhaps it is the peace of simply being in the moment, of enjoying the sense of simple pleasures or simple concepts or even the sense of simply being. But nothing about any of the moments suggests pride or ego or advertising to the world about myself and the greatness of me and my accomplishments.
I cannot fully define it. But if simplicity brings humility and this is indeed the outcome, I desire more of it.
Considering how much our modern society values activity, busyness, and ambition, untangling oneself from all that pretty much goes against the grain. I'd say, to do it without apology to peer pressure demonstrates strength. To do it without social commentary demonstrates humility. I so agree that this is a source of personal peace.
ReplyDeleteLeigh - It very much goes against the grain of the Age of Attention. And for some, even if they get to the simplicity part, it is still put on the Social Media (some of it, like our friend Kev at An English Homestead, is really to share knowledge; others of it a different form of attentional display).
DeleteI will note that some commentators whom I trust note that the youngest current "generation" is starting to push back against the materialism and lack of simplicity (and spirituality) of the age.
To say "I have enough" may the be great countercultural rallying cry of our age.
I think that I, like you, maybe struggle with the idea of simplicity only because I think of it in the context of the past as well as the present. Yes I don't life simply if compared to my grandparents or even further back ancestors, but if compared to my peers, I indeed lead a simple life as they often remind me. They have larger, fancier houses, drive vehicles with more features and gadgets, go on more complex vacations and have hobbies of way more complexity than mine. I feel extreme simple in that context but like you, wealthy in the knowledge that it provides me the happiness that I seek.
ReplyDeleteEd, that is a good point. I also compare myself in simplicity to "the past"; my life is grossly simple (like yours) comparatively to this current generation. And perhaps that is one of the things about simplicity: it is on a sliding scale between eras and technologies.
DeleteI have reached the point where my needs are completely provided for and my wants are both simple and easily (and financially) attainable. How is this not the best of all words?
Sigh. "Best of all worlds". Darn that moment just as you hit "Publish" and realize....
DeleteAh the simple life.....I get a kick out of how many people take a walk around the nearby lake on the asphalt path while staring at their cell phone. Hey, ducks just landed on the water there, a carp just jumped over here.....why walk outside when your head is still immersed somewhere else? Excuse me TB while I go outside and yell at a passing cloud..........
ReplyDeleteNylon12, we are so busy in a world that is virtual, filled with people we will never meet and places we will never go and situations that we can never change, that we too often miss the world that is right in front of us.
DeleteWhy walk outside? Partially because we are told that exercise is "good" for us - but partially, I believe, because deep inside of us still resides that spark that we need contact with the world we actually dwell in.