There truly is something beautiful about simplicity.
In a world where we are constantly bombarded by options, features, add-ons, and colors, there’s something almost euphoric about seeing a sole tree in a field.
My journey to simplicity started with moving from Tulsa to San Francisco back in 2015…
But….
You probably don’t care about that. Do you?
So let’s skip the lame “Here’s my background and why I’m qualified to speak on this” story.
We’ve been trained to think that options are good.
And the more options we have, the better.
I don’t think this is as true as we once thought.
For example, what happens when you go to the gym?
You walk in, and see 50 machines, 150 dumbbells, and 30 cardio machines.
Options.
Options.
Options.
Should I do some cardio?
Maybe I’ll start with a circuit.
I wonder if that spin instructor, Mike, is teaching tonight.
Ooo I could go sit in the sauna.
Nah, screw it, I’ll just go get a cheeseburger and some fries and call it a night.
I don’t know about you, but for me, this creates analysis paralysis.
I sit there and wonder what I should do.
What I could do.
What I’m supposed to do.
Should this be leg day, cardio day, core day?
I could play basketball.
You get the point.
I just moved into a new apartment and have a home gym.
It’s a yoga mat (Gaiam Sol Dry-Grip).
A 55lb kettlebell (Yeah, you could say I’m pretty buff).
And a human (Me – I don’t like to make any assumptions).
And I’ve worked out more in the last week than I have in the last 2 months.
This is because working out is a process now. Not an art.
Bear with me here, because that last distinction is the whole point.
I believe that we are surrounded by art, and surrounded by opportunities to create art and express ourselves through that art.
We can draw.
We can dress.
We can capture.
We can write.
We can mix.
We can design.
We can turn just about anything we do into art.
And that’s the danger here.
And perhaps the question – Are we capable of unlimited creative output?
I believe that we are only capable of a finite level of creative output per day.
How long can you run continuously?
Stay awake continuously?
Squat jump continuously?
Focus continuously?
Learn continuously?
Run continuously?
Shop continuously?
Eat continuously?
Sleep continuously?
There are parts of our lives that we’d be better off turning into a process, rather than an art, and leaving our artistic output for other, more important things.
Your artistic output could be meal creation.
What you wear.
What your workout is.
What you write after work.
What you journal before bed.
What you record on your phone.
The photos you take during your lunch break.
The cocktail you mix on Friday night.
The proposal you write for work.
The sales tactic you use tomorrow.
The date you plan for Saturday night.
How much of your fixed creative output do you really want to spend on unimportant, impermanent things?
All I can really do is share my personal experience, because I’m not an expert, nor do I think that what works for me will work for everyone.
But what I have found is by “processing” what I wear, eat, and do for exercise, I’ve created mental space for more artistic output for what I work on, dream about, and create.
If you’re like me, you crave simplicity.
You crave quiet.
Peace.
Not always.
But sometimes.
Okay, most times.
Fine, like 98% of the time, okay?!
Today I was looking for a decent, free accounting software for my personal LLC revenue and expense tracking and came across an article with 8 different ads firing at once.
Nice, Forbes.com.
I hope you’re making tons of money because you’re ruing the power of advertising for all of us.
This is the kind of behavior that leads to ruin.
A little leverage is great.
A lot of leverage led to 2008.
A little sugar is great
A lot of sugar leads to type II diabetes.
A little advertising is great.
A lot of advertising leads to population-wide distrust and blindness.
I guess what I am trying to say is, if there’s an area you’re struggling with in life, consider whether you’ve unnecessarily overcomplicated it.
Do you really need to go to Walmart Supercenter and walk every isle to get your groceries?
Do you really need a $120/month gym membership to stay in shape?
Do you really need to spend 2 hours on Facebook every day to feel connected?
Do you really need all 800+ channels on cable TV?
Do you really need a Netflix, Hulu, and YouTubeTV subscription?
Do you really need 25 pairs of shoes?
Do you really need to browse Amazon.com to find your next perfect kitchen appliance.
There is beauty in simplicity. And if you aren’t there yet, you just have a higher tolerance for the noise than I do.
But with each day that goes by, the decibels go up.
The ads go up.
The options go up.
The choices go up.
The variants go up.
Yeah, minimalism serves me to an extent.
And wearing the same type of T-shirt, pants, and shoes every day serves me to some extent.
And limiting myself to 15 minutes a day of Instagram serves me to some extent.
And eating the same boring breakfast serves me to some extent.
A wise man once said, “Too many choices confuse the buyer.”
Have you ever gone to a restaurant and looked through a 6 page menu only to see 15 minutes of your life pass before you’ve even had a chance to consider what sounds good?
I think we’ve allowed ourselves to swing way too far to one side of the pendulum. That side being – More is always better.
I’d argue there’s actually more happiness to be found in fewer and higher quality things.
Relationships
Apps
Shoes
Workouts
Hats
Apps
Handbags
Grocery items
We’ve tried this whole “More is always better” thing.
Perhaps it’s time to try this whole “Fewer, higher quality” thing?