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Simplicity is the most difficult to achieve
- By de Triana
- Published 02/1/2010
- Changing Behavior
- Unrated
I've always wondered what was meant by the simple life. I recently finished a book called Voluntary Simplicity. Essentially, voluntary simplicity is living simply even when you don't have to. A wise man said that wealth is knowing when you have enough (and that could be food, clothing, money, etc.).
In today's world, we have people living well beyond their means and people who can't even put food on the table and are living what's called "involuntary simplicity". You look in your closet and you have 5 winter coats, but children go to school and don't have one. If you want to read more about this amazing topic (it changed my life...), check out Duane Elgin's book, Voluntary Simplicity.
The idea of simplicity hit home with me recently when my husband bought and old international scout. He had been eyeing it for about two years as we made the pilgrimmage to my home town in Texas by the Oklahoma border. In fact, we'd always take the long way around to go by and see if it was still there. The thing was made in the 1970s and actually looks pretty good for its age. The carpet is very warn and it has a small dent in the back. It's very sandy as it spent most of its life outside a small west Texas town where the sand blows constantly and the wind is hot. It creeks whenever you open the doors. When my husband bought it for about $3,000, I had no idea how this would change our lives and I don't mean that lightly. If I had a preference, I choose to go in that vehicle rather than our overpriced, overgased Tundra and Armada. The reason I love it is the reaction it evokes in other people (they get this big smile on their face like they can see how much fun we are having or they are trying to figure out what it is...) and how it saved us in our last ice storm in the midwest.
When we go out in that car, I've never seen a family so proud. It's like we know something no one else does. We've never had conversations with people when we drive our pricey Armada. At the gas station, men stop my husband and ask, "What model is that?" and converse about how they use to restore scouts and it's one of their favorite cars. People point at us as we toodle down the road with the top off and my 3 boys hair blowing in the wind and they grin ear to ear. The boys don't care that it's cheap, has rust on it, and needs major repair. I can honestly say it has brought our family closer. During the last ice storm, we didn't get in the other two cars; we rode around in the Scout because it could handle the ice. Makes you wonder why we work so hard to pay so much for two vehicles that don't help you when you really need them.
So, simplicity (and I don't mean simplistic because the former is one of the hardest things to achieve...) for me is finding those things that help you be authentic, that's paid for, that doesn't clutter up our life, and when you wear it, drive it or show it, evokes as much a smile in others as it does for you.
All I know is we will always remember the Scout for years to come and perhaps we are passing on to our children the gift of understanding when less is more...
In today's world, we have people living well beyond their means and people who can't even put food on the table and are living what's called "involuntary simplicity". You look in your closet and you have 5 winter coats, but children go to school and don't have one. If you want to read more about this amazing topic (it changed my life...), check out Duane Elgin's book, Voluntary Simplicity.
The idea of simplicity hit home with me recently when my husband bought and old international scout. He had been eyeing it for about two years as we made the pilgrimmage to my home town in Texas by the Oklahoma border. In fact, we'd always take the long way around to go by and see if it was still there. The thing was made in the 1970s and actually looks pretty good for its age. The carpet is very warn and it has a small dent in the back. It's very sandy as it spent most of its life outside a small west Texas town where the sand blows constantly and the wind is hot. It creeks whenever you open the doors. When my husband bought it for about $3,000, I had no idea how this would change our lives and I don't mean that lightly. If I had a preference, I choose to go in that vehicle rather than our overpriced, overgased Tundra and Armada. The reason I love it is the reaction it evokes in other people (they get this big smile on their face like they can see how much fun we are having or they are trying to figure out what it is...) and how it saved us in our last ice storm in the midwest.
When we go out in that car, I've never seen a family so proud. It's like we know something no one else does. We've never had conversations with people when we drive our pricey Armada. At the gas station, men stop my husband and ask, "What model is that?" and converse about how they use to restore scouts and it's one of their favorite cars. People point at us as we toodle down the road with the top off and my 3 boys hair blowing in the wind and they grin ear to ear. The boys don't care that it's cheap, has rust on it, and needs major repair. I can honestly say it has brought our family closer. During the last ice storm, we didn't get in the other two cars; we rode around in the Scout because it could handle the ice. Makes you wonder why we work so hard to pay so much for two vehicles that don't help you when you really need them.
So, simplicity (and I don't mean simplistic because the former is one of the hardest things to achieve...) for me is finding those things that help you be authentic, that's paid for, that doesn't clutter up our life, and when you wear it, drive it or show it, evokes as much a smile in others as it does for you.
All I know is we will always remember the Scout for years to come and perhaps we are passing on to our children the gift of understanding when less is more...