I have long craved a simple life. The kind I had as a kid – when mornings were spent lost in the far-away lands of books and afternoons in the backyard sailing the high seas on my swing set. Where did the time go?
When did I get lost somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow?
Days are so short now. Yet at the same time they seem to go by the way a worm drags its belly slow across wet pavement. Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning and there have been days I’ve wished I just would cause taking breaths is hard.
I’m tired. Tired of fighting the current yet still ending up where it’s taking me. I’m ready to be free. To be dry and breathing deep, laughing instead of gasping for air. I need space. My lungs, my soul needs space – space to be.
How contrary that is to the push of modern society. Not to be, but to be more. “You can’t stop now there is still so much to be done; how dare you slow down long enough to pick the dandelions, to soak in sun rays like oxygen, to live quietly enough to be happy, no. Your to do list is far to long for that.”
It’s been over a year now that I’ve been searching for the secret to a simple life – how to be content and happy yet still have dreams burn in me like hot air balloons.
I have no desire to settle for less but to settle deep into the abundance that I already have. To know when to say enough. To leave behind the demand for excess, and so be light enough to fly.
That, my friend, is living.