If you liked reading this, feel free to click the ❤️ button on this post so more people can discover it on Substack 🙏
Have you ever longed for a simple life?
I know this is a fantasy and a dream. It is wrapped up in nostalgia for a bucolic bygone age of pastoral, Edenic simplicity. In reality, that pre-industrial period, whenever that was (choose your favorite century), came with its own challenges, burdens, and sorrows. Yet, those times also represent a way of living far closer to the earth and its rhythms and interaction with divine presence than anything we can find today.
I have desired it for most of my life.
Recently, I have been finding the clutter of the world that is broadcast into my head via computers, iPhones, large-screen TVs, headphones (and, God help us, the “promising” technology of things like AI-powered smart glasses and Neuralink) to cause such repulsion in my soul that I am seeking a simple life with even more vigor.
The world is complicated, and I suspect it has always been in many ways. The struggles between tribes, clans, kingdoms, and eventually nations for resources, territory, wealth, and power go back a long, long way in our history as a species. Disease, natural disasters, and death have always plagued humans. There has always been a lot to worry about.
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives might be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
From The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry (Counterpoint, 1999)
I don’t want to be an ostrich with my head stuck in the sand, irresponsibly choosing ignorance of the current world situation, nor do I want to become a Luddite shunning technological innovations that can improve our quality of life. But I do want a simple life.
Years ago, when I was homeschooling our children, my mind opened up to the triple structure of Medieval life. During my high school and university education, the Middle Ages were studied through a geopolitical lens: conquests, wars, the rise and fall of kingdoms, plagues, etc. Little of everyday life or the structure of society was explored beyond a quick look at the Canterbury Tales. In preparation for giving our children a more comprehensive education than I had received, I did a lot of reading about the Middle Ages. I read a decades-old book (which sadly I no longer have, nor can remember the name of) about Medieval life. It was aimed at young readers, the equivalent of today’s early middle schoolers, eleven or twelve years old. Yet, in the current state of education, I think it would be challenging for late high schoolers or even college freshmen. It was an excellent book, and it opened my eyes to the structure of Medieval life, not just the names of kings and battles.
The explanation ran thus: In Medieval Europe, the structure of life was tripartite. There were those who worked, those who fought, and those who prayed. In short, there were the peasants who worked the land, the knights who fought for the king and protected the land, and the clergy (priests, monks, and nuns) who prayed for the land and its people.
The daily routine was also tripartite. There was a time to work, a time to rest, and a time to pray.
It’s not so much the period, the politics, or the location that captivates me; it’s the approach to life—simple, orderly, purposeful. There was a time for everything, and everything had its proper time.
Twenty-first-century life imposes a tyranny of the urgent upon us. We are constantly prodded to be available and on call. Email, text messages, reminders, alerts, and alarms intrude into every hour of the day and night. We are often made to feel guilty if we don’t immediately respond to a text, an email, a post, or a comment. Time is a cruel taskmaster rather than a precious gift to be spent wisely. There always seems to be more to do than will fit into the space of a day.
Above my desk, this list has hung for many years…
Zen Things
Do one thing at a time.
Do it slowly and deliberately.
Do it completely.
Do less.
Put space between things.
Develop rituals.
Designate time for certain things.
Devote time to sitting.
Smile and serve others.
Make cleaning and cooking a meditation.
Think about what is necessary.
Live simply.
The Zen Things list has been such a help to me over the years. Focusing on and implementing even one of the ideas always makes my daily life better.
As the new year begins to take hold, I’ve realized that I want to create a simple life this year. This will mean extending and amplifying things I already do in that direction but also adding new dimensions of simplicity, which will likely involve purging and eliminating entrenched habits.
Releasing old ways and allowing new habits to put down roots is hard work. I need to carefully consider where I will begin and how hard I will push myself so that my efforts will be successful and not end up on the heap of burnt-out good intentions like other failed New Year’s Resolutions.
Once established, a simple life should feel joyful, spacious, and comfort-filled. Getting there may not be easy, but I’m counting on it being worth it.
The Foundations of a Simple Life
What have I already incorporated into my life to create a simple life? One of the most profound things I’ve done over the years is #5 from the Zen Things list: Put space between things.
Over the past few years, this has made an enormous difference in my life. Not only do I avoid back-to-back meetings, appointments, and commitments of all kinds within a single day, but I also spread out those things in a week and even a month. I’m very aware of giving myself the gift of, at a minimum, an hour or two between daily commitments, a day or two between appointments that take me out of the house, and a busy month is going to be followed with a month less crowded with obligations. At first, the tyranny of the urgent screamed very loudly, insisting that all these things were critical and couldn't wait a few hours, days, or weeks. In reality, they could, and I feel much better putting space between things. My nervous system is far more regulated, and I feel calmer overall.
In my quest for a simple life, #4 was an inevitable follow-up to #5. Do less. This was difficult as hard choices needed to be made, but #11, Think about what is necessary, was an excellent guide.
Number 8, Devote time to sitting, followed quickly because I love stillness. I don't find this difficult, but I realize many of you might find it your biggest challenge.
These have already been incorporated into my life over at least ten years, and I’ve set my sights on incorporating a few more this year as I pursue a simple life.
This year, I’m setting my sights on adding #6, Develop rituals, and #7, Designate time for certain things. There are ways that these already exist in my life, but they have to do more with seasonal living, and now I’d like to introduce them into daily life.
While leaning into Zen Things, I also keep in mind that I want to craft a life that follows the Medieval pattern of Time to Work, Time to Rest, and Time to Pray (or meditate, contemplate, etc.).Those three big categories help me organize my life and my physical space without feeling restricted by too much detailed planning, scheduling, and organizing, which immediately becomes paralyzing for me.
Here’s what has arisen organically as I’ve entered this new year and naturally mulled over new beginnings, directions, and projects.
Developing Rituals
I already have seasonal rituals, like changing my home altar to reflect the wheel of the year. I also mark those seasonal changes through creative pursuits. These include using art-making as a ritual to honor and mark the seasons, their energies, and related folklore and myths, along with reading seasonal poetry and creating seasonal playlists of music. Naturally, in the garden, there are seasonal (which break down to monthly and even weekly) tasks that I view as rituals. These draw me further into an enchanted worldview of a living earth. I also always mark the new and full moon in ways similar to what I do with the seasons.
This year, I’d like to create rituals that direct my daily life, providing predictability, stability, continuity, and reassurance throughout the day. I’m also seeking comfort, something I’ve felt very little of for several years. This yearning has led me back to a practice I’ve had for over two decades, though it has slipped away in recent years, as many good habits can.
This practice involves praying the hours, specific times during the day, and nights designated for prayer. It comes directly from Christian monastic tradition, though having dedicated times of prayer throughout the day is fairly common in many religions.
These pauses throughout the day and night that turn my heart, mind, and soul to spiritual refreshment provide the medicine I need to help me order my day and feel a sense of calm and comfort. The most significant shift for me this year was going back to the original books I used for this.
I have amassed quite a collection of daily prayer books that span the scope of spirituality from pagan to Christian, and I will share some of my favorites with you.
Celtic Devotional, Daily Prayer for People of Spirit by Caitlin Matthews—This is a nature-based, Celtic-flavored book that some might call pagan. It is a lovely breath of fragrant air, and I dip into it whenever I need a fresh perspective or seasonal emphasis.
The Celtic Wheel of the Year, Celtic and Christian Seasonal Prayers by Tess Ward. Here is a lovely blending of earth-based seasonal language, Celtic style, and Christian prayer. If you’re a Christian longing for a deeper, sacred connection to the land, the earth, and her seasons, this is a beautiful book to use. It’s also good if you’ve been on an un-named nature-y path or a pagan path, feel something is missing, and you’re now open to giving Christianity a second look. This is a perfect bridge.
The Rhythm of Life, Celtic Daily Prayer by David Adam is Celtic in form and spirit and Christian in content. It features charming woodcut-style black-and-white illustrations and Celtic knot motifs.
The Divine Hours, a manual for prayer by Phyllis Tickle. This set has three large volumes plus a volume for the hours of night prayer, and you can also get the Advent and Christmastide prayers in a separate book, though they are the same as the ones in the Autumn/Wintertime volume. The volumes are organized by season and follow the liturgical year. This set is decidedly Christian and appropriate for anyone in the Western Christian tradition.
I’ve recently returned to using The Divine Hours and Rudolph Steiner’s Calendar of the Soul: The Year Participated. It’s amazing how this spiritual practice has yielded so much benefit in a few short months. My day has structure and purpose, and I feel far more grounded and nourished by meaningful content and ideas that now infuse my day at regular intervals. I find that rather than look for breaks to check the computer for emails, social media updates, etc. I now look forward to the calm, uplifting refreshment of prayer and meditation throughout the day. I also find falling asleep far easier when contemplating the prayers of compline (before sleep prayers), which replaces screen time and doom scrolling.
I hope that praying the hours will, in turn, help me create a daily life where #7 Designated times for certain things take shape.
Order despite Chaos
Some of my favorite astrologers have examined this coming year and what will transpire in the heavens, and they have suggested that it will be a year of chaos. Sometimes, we don't need the entire world to be in turmoil. Our own lives provide enough of that! Creating a simple, orderly, comforting, predictable life in which everything necessary is taken care of, and we can work, rest, and pray predictably is a treasure worth looking for and a life worth creating.
It may seem old-fashioned and unattainable in our post-modern technological, social media age, but I believe a simple life is possible. It may be counter-cultural, but it is possible.
I’m not a very nostalgic person. I rarely look backward and pine for the good old days or glance over my shoulder with rosy glasses, longing for a bygone golden age or even the so-called glory days of youth. I’m much more of a be here now person with a helping of anxiety about the future on the side. However, I grew up in the analog era and remember a simpler time. People sometimes try to gaslight me, telling me it was no better back then or worse than what we live today. Every age has problems, injustices, blind spots, wars, etc. But the quality and pace of everyday life seem more human, perhaps more humane when we live a simple life.
Does a simple life appeal to you? What are your thoughts about the Zen Things list or the idea of returning to the older practice of daily times of prayer and contemplation?
The comments section is a safe and welcoming space to share your insights and experiences.
Comments and conversation are always appreciated and enjoyed, so feel free to let your voice be heard. I read them all and try to respond to each one.
Thank you for reading Hedge Mystic and participating in this vibrant and growing community of creative, spiritual humans. You are always welcome here, appreciated, and loved.
Hedge Mystic is a reader-supported publication based on a value-for-value premise. If you find value in Hedge Mystic, support my work and consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Your involvement and financial support are deeply appreciated. Thank you.
A very timely post when so many people, including myself, feel a need for more simplicity in their lives. I like your Zen list and intend to steal it shamelessly 🙂 There is always room for improvement, and for me it is unquestionably #1! Thank you for sharing it.
This was such a well timed read for me. Thanks you. I hope it's ok to share with my teenagers too.