Author Wayne Muller points out that many of us have made a bad bargain by trading in our time for money:
"The problem is not simply that we work too much. We are paid in the wrong currency.... We need to seek instead a more fertile, healing balance of payments--some of our pay in money, and some of our pay in time.
What if we were to expand our definition of wealth to include those things that grow only in time--time to walk in the park, time to take a nap, time to play with children, to read a good book, to dance, to put our hands in the garden, to cook playful meals with friends, to paint, to sing, to meditate, to keep a journal."1
Clearly it takes courage and determination to live out what is essentially a counter-cultural discipline in a workaholic world. Simplicity has both emotional and psychological dimensions. In his book Freedom of Simplicity, Richard Foster says that we need to refuse "to live beyond our means emotionally. In a culture where whirl is king, we must understand our emotional limits. Ulcers, migraines, nervous tension, and a dozen other symptoms mark our psychic overload. We are concerned not to live beyond our means financially; why do it emotionally?"2
The truth is that many of us wear busyness like a badge of honor. I am busy; therefore, I am important. Or perhaps we think the world will collapse if we are not there to prop it up. Though idleness may be the devil's workshop, surely busyness must be his stock in trade, creating countless diversions to prevent us from enjoying a life of peace or significance.
In order to live more simply, Richard Foster made the decision to accept only a certain number of speaking engagements during the course of a year. Once that big decision was made, he could say no with peace to even the most enticing invitations, believing that God had called him to limit his time on the road. In similar fashion, we can prayerfully survey our own lives, asking whether we can make a few practical decisions that will produce greater peace for ourselves and our families.
For instance, we could decide to restrain our spending by limiting or eliminating recreational shopping. Or we could combine forces with a neighbor to share a weekly meal. We needn't become Quakers or Shakers in order to enjoy a life of greater simplicity. We just need to start making a few sensible decisions that will obviate the need to make a thousand little decisions on the spur of the moment. Simplicity is a process. It doesn't happen overnight. It takes time to unwind a life built on consumption, reshaping our lives in the direction of greater simplicity and deeper peace.
- Wayne Muller, Sabbath (New York: Bantam, 1999), 101.
- Richard Foster, Freedom of Simplicity (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1989), 91.
