My simple life: an update on the move

What I gave up: a view of green. But I'm finding other ways to appreciate nature around me.

“There’s something good everywhere you go.” That’s what my grandfather told me when I expressed anxiety about leaving my hometown to go to university. That has always stuck with me. It’s very true, because no matter where we  live, there is always something good to be found. Sometimes in unexpected ways and in unexpected places.

My move went well, and now I’m finally getting settled in to my new place.  I was very scared to move, partly because I was giving up so much - to name a few, I was downsizing from a large two bedroom to a small one bedroom, switching from underground to outdoor parking, and moving further away from, well, just about everything - downtown, work, yoga.  And I was trading in my beautiful balcony for a much smaller, less scenic view.  There were also sentimental reasons that made it difficult to leave.  It was where I had lived with my former partner, and walking away meant officially closing the door to my past.But I was also sad to give up the apartment because it was the place where I had become re-acquainted with myself. I was crushed after the break-up, and I put myself back together in that apartment. For a year I lived alone. I found work, found new friends, found a new sport, and found myself again. I rediscovered my independence, and found peace in simplicity and in solitude.

And so, I was afraid to give up this space where so much had happened. But I felt inspired by my readers’ comments, especially the one that said, “You will create peace in your new apartment. You are peace.” It reminded me of a quote by Robert Fulghum:

Peace is not something you wish for;

it’s something you make,

something you do,

something you are,

something you give away.

I wish to give away peace, to inspire, respect and honour other people, including myself. And moving to this new place helps me to accomplish this. I’ve found a place that is affordable but is also comfortable, which makes it sustainable, and that allows me to do the work I love to do.

My new place is simple, modern, clean, and it is me.  It has big windows and a big bathtub. And it is filled only with what I truly love. I got rid of everything I didn’t need or that didn’t make me feel good.  I donated my television sets so I am officially TV free. I donated most of the cheap, mass produced Ikea furniture that my ex left behind.  I donated a lot of things that had negative associations from my past, or even things that just pulled on my heart strings too much. I kept only what I really value, what I love, and what brings me joy or adds something to my life.

Walking into my new apartment, it feels cozy and it feels like me.  To some, it might look like failure. I don’t have a lot of expensive stuff to show off. But to many, I think, this lifestyle would be enviable. Not bogged down with extra “stuff”. Not a slave to my posessions or to my self image. Clear on what I love, and what is important to me.  I have my antiques and vintage finds, my own art, my plants and herbs, some high quality furniture, and my most important asset, Butternut. (Home, afterall, is where the cat is.)

Sometimes I compare myself to other people and I wonder if I’ve failed myself, if I haven’t raised expectations of myself high enough. But I guess my inner desire is just too strong to be ignored, the desire to live simply, to live modestly, to live meaningfully and mindfully.  I guess I don’t even need to question it; this life feels right to me. It gives me peace.

Moving on

I took the above photo at a yoga & meditation retreat I attended recently. Actually, it was the same retreat I attended last year. Long-term readers will remember what was going on in my life right around that time. There’s been many changes in my life over the last year. This was an opportunity for me to not only feel more mindful and present, but to engage in a little self-reflection.

The gardens had wild rose bushes as you can see above. Wild roses are my favourite. I first discovered them on a hike in Newfoundland:

Wild Rose in Tickle Cove, Newfoundland

At the retreat, our instructor had written out little affirmations that we could pick from an envelope; they were statements that we could reflect on during our practice.  I picked one that said, “now is the perfect time to let go.”

This weekend, I am letting go.  I’m packing. In a couple of weeks, I will literally be moving on. I’m not changing cities, but I am changing apartments. My current apartment is beautiful, but housing costs take up 65% of my income (every time I think about that I hear a line from TTDUP ring in my head: “No one can afford to spend 65% of their income on housing!” My new apartment lacks the luxuries of my current place, but will give me a little more financial breathing room. It will also be a change - a good change - as it’s an opportunity to say goodbye to some of the ghosts of my past. It will be a new space, and all my own.

Packing is not easy. You discover things you had long forgotten about - old photos, to-do lists, letters, trinkets, and they are all loaded with memories. In studying an object that you see every day, contemplating what to do with it, you realize that something you long considered benign is actually heavy with meaning. Packing is like lifting up a log in the forrest - you see all little insects crawling around underneath it that have long gone unnoticed.

As I write this, I sit comfortably on my loveseat, which faces the balcony.  It is close enough to see the water droplets hanging on the balcony railing. The view is all green - green trees for miles. On my balcony I’m growing herbs. Butternut watches the plants shake in the wind. I can hear the birds singing proudly. Their joyful songs dwarf any lingering traffic noise. My apartment is a perfect retreat. I hope that in my new place I can recreate the same kind of peace.

On the Bruce

I hope that all of my Canadian readers enjoyed a relaxing long weekend. I spent a good portion of my weekend in one of my favourite places in the whole world: the Bruce trail. I live too far away for a weekend jaunt up to its prime region (the Georgian Bay escarpment) but I did two day trips on the trail in the Halton Hills area instead.

Day one was especially wonderful. I went with my dad. We hiked for 5 hours, and only ran in to one person - an older gentleman who was doing some geocaching along with his friendly canine companion. The day was wet and rainy, which turned out to be perfect; it kept the temperature cool, and we got to enjoy sensory treats like smelling that fresh “rain” smell and listening to the rain drops land gently on the leafy canopy above us.  My second hike was with friends; we went to a more popular spot and bounced back and forth between the Bruce trail and side trails.  This route was easier and took us about 4 hours to complete.

On our hike today we passed a small boy who was with his Mom and Dad. The boy was looking at a caterpillar. The Dad asked the son, “what do you think it’s going to turn into? What do you think that caterpillar is going to become?” My heart melted. I love seeing children outdoors, learning about nature, learning to respect small creatures, learning to treat the world with gentleness.

Whenever I take time to go on a hike or spend time in nature, I’m always humbled by how much there is to see and how much there is to learn.  We Canadians (and Americans) are lucky enough to live in countries with huge, vaulting vastness. The Bruce trail alone is 700 km long.  If solitude is what you’re looking for, you can find it. If you crave self-reflection, the trail provides a perfect opportunity to get reacquainted with yourself.  If you are seeking curiosities or enjoy discovering new worlds, all it takes is a little patience to reveal the magnificent, private world of insects and plants, not to mention birds and other wildlife.

Furthermore, hiking is such a great form of exercise. It’s load-bearing, which means that it’s good for your bones, but it’s fun; no need to stare into space or into a TV blaring the news while jogging on a treadmill at the gym. Hiking creates opportunities for you to stay mentally engaged while strengthening your muscles and getting a good cardio-vascular workout.

What occurs to me is that everything I wrote above is free, save for a little gas in the car and good footwear. Pack a homemade lunch and you’re off.  The Bruce trail parking lots are all free. If you go to a conservation area you can expect to pay a bit more - usually between $4 and $6 a person - still not excessive.

When we get in touch with nature, we can gain a little perspective.  Like stargazing, hiking is a humbling activity; you realize that you are merely one creature out of millions, a tiny speck within massive eco-systems, full of life and mystery.  Suddenly our own problems don’t seem so significant.  It is peaceful, refreshing, enlivening. Most of us crave stress-relief. We crave peace. We seek relief through entertainment, through distractions, through malls, movie theatres, casinos and bars.  We take expensive vacations. We buy stuff. And yet there is so much at our fingertips, for free. So much that nourishes us. Right here, waiting for us.

Are you a lover of the Bruce trail? Do you love to hike? Where do you like to go to spend time in nature?

Finding peace at home

Have you ever been tempted by a gorgeous photo of a dream vacation spot? The pictures usually include a woman with a gorgeous body, lying in a hammock over turquoise waters with a drink by her side. Her facial expression epitomizes relaxation. It’s instinctive to immediately think, “I want to feel like that, too. I want to go on vacation.” We want the feelings that are being emitted from the advert - serenity, peace, total mind and body relaxation.

Have you ever actually taken one of these trips only to feel as though something was missing?  Have you actually been surrounded by a gorgeous setting - a beautiful beach, a sunset, a luxurious hotel or a quaint bed and breakfast, only to feel as though you can’t quite grasp that total peace of mind you thought would automatically accompany this change of setting?

Although we are naturally affected by our physical surroundings, I think that it takes more than a change of scenery to achieve a sense of inner peace, even briefly.  It take practice, the practice of mindfulness. This is actually good news because it means we can grab that feeling displayed in the advert, hang on to it and revisit it multiple times a day.

Lately I’ve been in awe of the natural beauty outside my window. Thanks to plenty of rain, the trees outside my high-rise apartment window are in full-bloom. It’s quite magnificent. I open up my blinds, and I have a full view of green.  I’m only going to be living in this apartment for a couple more months, and I’m taking full advantage of the view now, while I can.  And I find, with some surprise, that it is exceptionally easy for me to enjoy it fully and meaningfully, in solitude.  I find myself, some evenings, just sitting in my chair, which is pointed at the balcony, watching the colours of the sky change. When I get home from work, the trees look yellow with the bright light that prefaces dusk. The sky is a bright cheerful blue. And then it changes, into white, then into a deep blue, then into an even deeper, cobalt blue. I see many gradations of colour until ultimately the sky becomes black and I can’t identify any more colours.

I’ve been paying attention to smells more as well. This weekend the weather was humid and in the mornings, I enjoyed the smell of the air just before it rained. You know, that luscious, scented air that, I think, gives way to positive memories. (At least it gives way to positive memories for me, of working on the farm, of summers long gone.)  This morning I took a breath and smelled at once that fresh, morning, pre-rain smell, which then tapered into the scent of freshly brewing coffee.  I caught both smells in an instant; it lasted less than a second, but it was wonderful.

At night, new sounds and smells. After chirping all day long, the sympohny of birds outside my window quiet down and their song is replace by… something. A humming noise.  It sounds like tree frogs, but that can’t be it.  And it’s much too early for crickets. So I’m not sure who is making the sound, but there is a peaceful little noise, probably made by some other insect. Just sitting and listening to it, and feeling the breeze flow in through my open window, is the perfect peaceful moment before bed.

Tonight, I finally ate a meal in silence. My mind was not completely quiet, but I was free of distractions such as television, books, or computers. Just me, and the meal I prepared for myself. For some reason, it felt less lonely to eat alone tonight. I looked outside my window while I ate, and then gazed at my little companion, Butternut, who slept in the easy chair beside the table, her pink nose looking especially cute and bright as it nestled up against her clean, white paws.

The past week I’ve realized that even within the context of my life today - which is very good, but far from “perfect” or easy - that these moments deliver that sense of ease, that sense of perfection, that the adverts proclaim to deliver in exchange for hundreds or thousands of dollars.

These moments are here for everyone to enjoy. I’m finally articulating what I really wanted this blog to be about all along. I want to participate fully in life, finding peace and true joy in life itself, not pursuing empty goals, meaningless distractions. We spend money on expensive trips and vacations, when so much can be found right here, right now, today, in this very moment.  I adore traveling and I love vacations as much as the next person, but we so often forget that what we are seeking is really available to us at anytime, anywhere. And it doesn’t cost a penny; it only costs our attention, our willingness to be attentive.  This requires some risk-taking and some discipline, but it is so very rewarding.

What’s next? I’d like to practice this more. Making time to enjoy the views, to pay attention to smells, to practice eating in silence and distraction-free.

Have you been enjoying any practices of mindfulness lately? Do you find it helps to satisfy your goals of frugal, simple abundance?