November 5, 2012
So much time has gone by since I last wrote here that I really don’t know where to start. So I guess I’ll start over.
I named this blog “Ontheroadtosimplicity,” thinking that one day I might actually find it. Simplicity, I mean. Little did I know how hard it would be to reach the end of this journey.
So, I came back to the beginning about a month ago when we were walking home from the river, watching our three dogs waddling up the street, listening to persistent birds singing their persistent songs, feeling the muggy air on our skin and looking up at the ever-changing sky. These sights and sounds and feelings caught my attention and made my mind stop wandering. “This is simplicity,” I said to myself. “right here on this road with this air and these trees and this lack of mental madness.” I knew then that my understanding of simplicity had been challenged.
Simplicity is in the small moments of everyday life. The ones we barely notice unless we make the effort to pay attention. Simplicity is the sea grass blowing in the soft wind. It’s in the deep, honey sweet southern accent of a neighbor telling his family stories. And it’s in the vast ocean of purple morning glories choking out the already dead corn stalks that surround the finger of land we have settled on. Those are the simple things.
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