I do not remember exactly when life got complicated. Maybe it was after college and the first real job, car payments, marriage, mortgage, and trying to share equal time with parents and in-laws geographically separated. Maybe life’s complexities are the result of too much technology, too much information, too much invasiveness, and too little private time.
I am not certain how life got so complicated, but I am able to find solace in the words of Eleanor Roosevelt: “A little simplification would be the first step toward rational living.”
As a university President, I have clever escape routes that help me fend off life’s complexities. Sometimes, in scarce moments of silent peacefulness, I drift back to bicycle rides along the scenic, unnamed county roads that surrounded my small hometown. I daydream myself to the welcoming downhill slopes, coasting effortlessly while using no hands. The traffic is minimal, the country air maximal, and I float carefree. Renewed like the force of a power nap, I come back to reality revitalized.
I have other equally effective escape routes to retrieve touchstones of sane simplicity in this world of complexity. They can work for you as well.
See the world through a child’s eyes. Try to rediscover the initial excitement of now routine occurrences. Watch like a child who is experiencing them for the first time. Airplane trips, frequent events for me, pass quickly when I relive, through the eyes of a child, the magic of close-up clouds, streams of miniature vehicles, and houses rowed together like children’s blocks.
Isolate the positive. Separate the positive from the swirling frenzy of negativity that surrounds us. Find the kernels within the chaff. Treasure what you have instead of lamenting for what you do not. Let just enough be enough.
Memorize a poem. When stressed and unable to fall asleep, repeat the poem like a mantra instead of counting sheep. Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” and A.E. Housman’s, “When I Was One-And-Twenty” work for me.
Play classical music. Listen to more than just the well-known masterpieces. Include selections you are not familiar with. The early works of composers like Mozart, Beethoven, Dvorak, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, and Rachmaninoff will delight you.
Look back for comfort. There is much gratification in remembering what was. Recalling the old can be as fulfilling as exploring the new. The past has its place.
Imagine your favorite memory and write about it. Read your memory after a bad day. Re-read it again after the next bad day. Write about another treasured memory. Capture more good memories than you have bad days.
Find a former teacher. Telephone that teacher and reminisce. I talk to my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Curl, several times a year. I do most of the listening, and that is good for both of us. I enjoy being Rickie again.
Yield to the allure of the local, the everyday, the ordinary. Discover what the local has to offer. We do not have to travel distant lands for adventure. Too often lifetimes are spent trekking through layers of complexity in a search for simplicity, a simplicity that is already patiently waiting to be discovered. Pots of gold sit, barely hidden, at our feet. Don’t make them trip you.
Leave work at work. We need to recharge at home with family before charging into tomorrow. Prioritize the real priorities. Occasionally, try to leave the office early. Our offices can survive without us.
Involve yourself in community service. Helping others is a simple pleasure. Deliver meals on wheels, volunteer for a church, school, or hospital, or become a Big Brother/Big Sister. Complexities disappear when we serve others.
Focus on the satisfiers. Compile a list of the things that satisfy you, that make you happy. Remember why they make you happy. Work to remove the often self-imposed roadblocks to satisfaction.
Enjoy a quiet evening. Steep a pot of hot tea, get into your pajamas by 7:30 p.m., and recline into an easy chair—no television, no newspaper, no cell phone. Let the softness of a comfortable cat fill your lap. Close your eyes and listen to the contented purring. The murmuring rhythms echo through you. Enjoy simplicity in its purrest form.
Simplify life. It really is not all that complicated.
Rick D. Niece, Ph.D., author of The Side-Yard Superhero, currently serves as President for the University of the Ozarks in Clarksville, Arkansas. Along with his wife, Sherée, he works to provide intellectual and cultural enrichment for the 675 students at the University, preparing them for graduate school and professional employment success while establishing lifelong values. For more information, please visit www.RickNiece.com.