A Simple Life
a gentle reminder to slow down
Happy Friday, beautiful souls. I’ve had several reminders this week about the beauty of living a simple life.
I find myself asking my friends and everyone I know—how did she do it? Referring to my mom as an immigrant, newly married, young mom. She didn’t have family to come fold her laundry or make her comfort foods when she was postpartum, healing and learning how to care for a newborn. And then two babies not long after (my brother and I are less than 16 months apart). But she did it. And I remember the house always being tidy and the dishes always being done. And she never once yelled at us to this day although with God as my witness there were days we deserved it. Maybe she screamed in a fit of exhaustion and panic like I have but I can’t imagine my mom doing that. She is elegant and dignified and yelling is beneath her—my words, not hers.
Then I had the mother of a dear friend pass away. I offered to write the obituary because I understand how all consuming and gruesome grief can be and can make quotidian tasks (not that obituary writing is quotidian) feel daunting and overwhelming. He told me, “my mom was a simple person, she wanted her family fed and happy, she didn’t travel the world, she lived a simple life” and that is beautiful.
My mom always reminds me of the French saying la simplicity fait la beauté, meaning, simplicity is beauty. In other words, less is more. I take it to mean elegance and attractiveness are found in uncluttered, unadorned, essential things, including humans.
La simplicity fait la beauté // Simplicity is beauty
And then today I was getting a pedicure—because I am so lucky to not only to have my parents close but also my in laws close and willing to come spend the day with Giovanni so Joe and I can get things done like work or tidy the garage…or get a pedicure in my case today. I sat next to a beautiful woman. She wobbled in with her husband—she had just had knee replacement surgery—and he helped her get seated in the pedicure chair. “You have a baby!” she said to me indicating my stroller. And so began our hour+ long conversation about her babies (she has a son and a daughter in their 20s) and her life and her thoughts. She’s a retired firefighter who is all about people and the earth and healing and plants and it was such a joy to speak to her. She was so reassuring to me about my thoughts and quelled my fears and doubts. “It’s just money,” she said about paying for her son’s medical school tuition. She wore a beautiful opal ring on one middle finger and a big moonstone on the other. Naya didn’t sleep through the appointment like she has in the past so I took her out of the stroller and held her and Katia, my new friend, oogled over her. And ordered me to give her my phone so she could take a photo of the two of us together “because I know, you’re always the one taking the photos,” she said, clearly understanding that moms often take pictures of everyone else and rarely get in the photo themself with the baby. I could have talked to her for hours. She rattled off story after story while also paying attention to me and speckled wisdom in it all. How beautiful.
So beautiful souls, I’m wishing you all some simplicity in your life. A little less Alexa and a little more record player. A little (or a lot) less screen time and more time having a dance party with your kids or grandkids or spouse in the living room. More picnics on the beach and walks in the park. More pushing your kid on the swing—without your phone around. More slowing down and spending face time (physically, not the video call) with the people nearest and dearest to you. More slowing down, less stress. Doing what’s important like cooking dinner with your kids and teaching them how to do the dishes and put them away and not sweating the little things. I wish you simplicity, beautiful souls.