A gift to be simple…

For as long as I can remember, people have been paying lip service to the joys of simplicity. Even before Marie Kondo taught us how to tidy up, Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Simple Abundance, a Daybook of Comfort and Joy extolled the simple pleasures of coffee in the morning, using the good china for meals other than holidays, and waking up after a good night’s sleep. Now, in the wake of a pandemic and 30 million unemployed Americans, those efforts seem so… quaint. Like, “awww, isn’t it cute how we had to be told to appreciate fresh air. That was before we were cooped up inside all the time!”

Two days ago, adults in Spain got our first taste of outdoor exercise. While children got to go out with one parent starting on April 27, grown ups had to wait until May 2 to claim our endorphins with sun. We were allowed out in shifts, to prevent overcrowding on the streets (which didn’t work out so well in the cities). Out here in our countryside home, I went out at 9am for my allotted one hour time slot. I had my headphones, Lizzo, and bottle of water.

And it was…
Pure Joy.

I hadn’t walked by myself in two months. The walks with my kiddo during the week hadn’t really counted as exercise – they were at the pace of a six year old who wanted to smell all the flowers. I hiked up steep Andalusian hills, I felt my heart pumping up to 155bpm, and I breathed in the flower-scented air. My God, I can’t remember feeling so alive in a long time.

I know I’m not alone in this. Judging by my social media feeds, a lot of us are starting to really truly appreciate talking to friends, freshly baked bread, and a good cup of coffee in the morning. On Saturday we had a cookout in the backyard, and made burgers and chicken. Pretty much the same food we’ve been eating the past two months. But just the fact that it was cooked in a different way, all smokey and crispy, made it so special.

My hope is that once we recover from this shock and the losses – however long that takes – we will remember these feelings of fulfillment from the fresh air, the flowers, watching our child ‘s synapses connect as she figures out a math problem, and feeling alive after a workout. And maybe people like Marie Kondo will be less relevant, because we don’t need to be reminded that a fresh bowl of oatmeal with berries and a perfectly made cappuccino, sitting on the porch watching the sunrise, is actually way more fulfilling than a closet full of shit we didn’t even want when we bought it.

In the meantime, I’m going to keep rocking out, working out, and finding meaning in the things that money can’t buy. Which is good, because, like all of us, my savings just did a bellyflop cannonball. Coffee is cheap, and wildflowers are free.