Simple Living

I run in circles, doing the same things over and over again and expecting different results. All I need is one slow day. A breath of fresh air, in complete isolation from the world, without worrying what to eat and where to sleep tomorrow. I started meditating again, and it helps keep me grounded. I stop meditating, and the uncertainty of the next day creeps back in.

Sometimes I contemplate becoming a monk. Then I realize they don’t do “coding time” over there. Absence of the rest doesn’t bother me much. All I need is food— the simpler the better, so plain rice sounds lovely—, shelter— more like a bunk and a writing desk—, a laptop, and maybe (maybe!) occasional meetings with my friends and neighbors. On a second thought, a Norwegian prison might do.

Jokes aside, it often surprises me how little we need in our life and how much we have. Simple but sustainable living became my goal. The road to achieving it reminds me of playing a video game that has no cheat codes.

In this game, some days I am an NPC, observing the main characters mastering moves and tricks. They die and reset. They try levels again and again, they fall, get up, and make it to the finish line. The other days I am the main character, and I am hopelessly losing. My weapons aren’t as strong and misfire half the time. Everybody in the game started with three lives, I started with an apple. Everybody got a car, I got a three-legged monkey. Well, at least Rosie and I can share a laugh on a moody day.

But what’s simple for me may not be what’s simple for you. And what does sustainable even mean? If the weather permits, I’ll answer in a different post, with or without the video game analogy.