Simple.

Sometimes I feel like the world has gone mad and I'm being swept away with it. Everything these days runs at such a fast pace. I find myself frustrated when it takes more than a millisecond for a web page to load. I rush around, for no particular reason other than the fact that I feel I need to.

But at the same time, I currently have an obsession with living simply. I want to slow down, appreciate the little things and take my time. I have a great respect for the Amish. If it wasn't for the lack of broadband I'd be over there like a shot.

I kid, I kid!

But in all seriousness I have been trying to simplify my life a little. I try and spend at least half an hour with my son outside or at the park everyday. Whenever possible I make things instead of buying things. I try to grow my own herbs. .

I have also decided to learn how to sew. I can't believe I have gotten to my late 20's without knowing how to operate a sewing machine. I have borrowed my mums sewing machine and plan to devour the instruction booklet and then get my housewife on. (I sound all confident now, but I can suspect in a few hours when I am being buried in a tangled mess of bobbins I shall be feeling far less cocky!)

Anyway back to the matter at hand. One thing I truly believe in is op shops. Oh op shops. I love them. You can get some crazy bargains at op shops, AND the money goes to a good cause. You can take your old clothes hanging around your wardrobe and come back with a new set. What is there not to love? A few months ago I paid $5 for a designer dress that still had the $200 price tag on it. I also got my son the very kids couch I wanted for $6 rather than the $25 in Kmart. I love how the clothes are worn in already, and I LOVE how you can get clothes you wouldn't necessarily find in retail outlets. I don't know if shopping at op shops is exactly simple, but its certainly something I recommend.

But living simple is more than just recycled clothes and home made items. Every day, no matter how busy the day, I make myself a cup of tea or milo and just.....be.

In hospital, according to the nurses, a hot drink could cure anything. Sad? Make yourself a cuppa. Angry? A cuppa will sort it out. Headache? Go and grab yourself a nice cuppa. And that old wives adage is true...a cup of something soothing does calm you down, does make you feel better.

So as I'm sipping my drink I don't stress about all the things I have to do. I look away from the towering washing pile. I ignore the dishes in the sink. And I just breathe, and drink, and savour those 15 minutes.

It's my time. It's simple.

Content.

For a few days now I have been struggling with what I should write about. There is a lot I could say, and a lot that I want to say, indeed I have started writing about several different topics. But now just didn’t seem like the right time to address the issues I chose, and so I abandoned my work, time and time again. In my experience it is never wise to force creativity and so I waited until inspiration came to find me. And then it did.

Today I want to choose a different path. I don’t want to delve into the darkness today. I don’t want to analyse fragmented memories, I don’t want to open up old wounds. Today I want to talk about the alternative, the light, the sunshine.

Happiness. I think everyone believes in it, strives for it, yearns for it. I know I did. But the funny thing was that the more I wanted to be happy, the less happy I became. Perhaps if you yearn for something, you are admitting to yourself you don’t already possess it.

When I fell into the blackness I would look at other people and wish I had some of their sunshine. I considered them so damn lucky. I would think “maybe if I was prettier, if I had more money, if I owned a house......then I would be happy.” But the grass is generally disappointingly brown on the other side. And maybe those people were looking at me too, wishing for the qualities and the attributes that I possessed yet never appreciated. 

Today I realised that for the first time in at least a decade, I am truly happy. I’m not talking about the energetic, consuming, powerful happiness of mania. I’m not even talking about the intoxicating exuberance that accompanies a love affair, or a personal success. I’m talking about contentment.

Contentment is innocent, it doesn’t want bigger or better. Contentment just is, pure and simple. Six months ago my psychologist asked me what kind of life I wanted. I told her I wanted a simple life, that I didn’t want a huge house or expensive cars and holidays. I just wanted a happy life with my family, appreciating the little things. This week I have played with my little boy, taken the time to bake and cook, been for walks with my boy and my dog. I have dusted off my thesis and started data analysis. I have seen friends and been out, but I’ve also stayed in and read. I feel like I’ve finally achieved a balance, a balance between me and him and us and everyone else. I’ve been crazy enough to have fun, but sane enough to take responsibility.

It took this episode and this hospitalisation for me to finally peel away at the layers that were suffocating me. Finally I am able to recognise what is really important in life. Now I can recognise and discard the things that aren’t important. I find I care less and less about what others think. If there is one thing I have learned, it is that life is too short and too precious to waste.

I know in the future there will be days of grey. Maybe even black. Perhaps multicoloured and overwhelming. But I hope I will be able to reach out for a beam of sunshine and eventually find peace once more. Acceptance. Release. Happiness. Contentment.

This photo always reminds me of being content. Content and happy :)