Once again, your writing astounds me but also makes me realize how you and I are of the same blood.
I once tried to make 'Less is More" a mantra--until it became moronic to keep thinking that thought would translate into action or was some kind of therapeutic achievement. Consciousness, for me, alas, has always meant heavy traffic. Age brings the mild medicine of weariness, but what you call "subtraction" can be thinly disguised addition if one doesn't learn to, as someone once said,
"go to the side of the road and let the traffic roll by." That is where meditation comes in: learning to listen to the traffic until it bores you into true emptinesss. Begin fom there, if you get there. I still hope that driving on country roads is escaping the 4-lane--and thus a form of progress.
Thanks for the advice, Dad. You're right that it's so easy to unwittingly turn subtraction into "thinly disguised addition," if we're not careful. Hoping (one day) to know the meditative nothingness of the traffic rolling by.
I LOVE your writing. And THIS was sooo good. I’ve been moving towards doing less, but unlearning is so damn hard. After reading this, I feel more committed to try because everything you wrote makes total sense.
One other thing — in my experience, "Everything™" is hard to keep up with whether you have little kids, older kids, or no kids. Or whether you work part-time, full-time, or no-time. "Everything™" fills up every nook and cranny available. Like you wrote: it’s always looming.
Thank you so much, Daphne. I feel you that "unlearning is so damn hard." (But so worth it to try.) And I love how you put it—that Everything™ fills in every nook and cranny. If we create more space, Everything™ seems to finds a way in.
This reminded me so much of me, Amy, during the busiest years of my middle adult life. My mother actually gave me a book entitled: “You don’t need to be perfect.” (Or something like that...) Sigh. I needed it. Now, looking back, I realize that, eventually, I did let a lot go. It is the only way... thanks for another amazing read. What a writer you are.
Once again, your writing astounds me but also makes me realize how you and I are of the same blood.
I once tried to make 'Less is More" a mantra--until it became moronic to keep thinking that thought would translate into action or was some kind of therapeutic achievement. Consciousness, for me, alas, has always meant heavy traffic. Age brings the mild medicine of weariness, but what you call "subtraction" can be thinly disguised addition if one doesn't learn to, as someone once said,
"go to the side of the road and let the traffic roll by." That is where meditation comes in: learning to listen to the traffic until it bores you into true emptinesss. Begin fom there, if you get there. I still hope that driving on country roads is escaping the 4-lane--and thus a form of progress.
Thanks for the advice, Dad. You're right that it's so easy to unwittingly turn subtraction into "thinly disguised addition," if we're not careful. Hoping (one day) to know the meditative nothingness of the traffic rolling by.
I LOVE your writing. And THIS was sooo good. I’ve been moving towards doing less, but unlearning is so damn hard. After reading this, I feel more committed to try because everything you wrote makes total sense.
One other thing — in my experience, "Everything™" is hard to keep up with whether you have little kids, older kids, or no kids. Or whether you work part-time, full-time, or no-time. "Everything™" fills up every nook and cranny available. Like you wrote: it’s always looming.
Thank you so much, Daphne. I feel you that "unlearning is so damn hard." (But so worth it to try.) And I love how you put it—that Everything™ fills in every nook and cranny. If we create more space, Everything™ seems to finds a way in.
This reminded me so much of me, Amy, during the busiest years of my middle adult life. My mother actually gave me a book entitled: “You don’t need to be perfect.” (Or something like that...) Sigh. I needed it. Now, looking back, I realize that, eventually, I did let a lot go. It is the only way... thanks for another amazing read. What a writer you are.
Wow, what a smart mother to give you that book. I think we all need it! Hoping to follow your lead and "let a lot go."