730 things — Day 113 of 365

It's all too easy to focus on physical items in thinking about simplicity and minimalism, but in real terms I suspect possession of physical things flows from the more intangible aspects of our being.

I always needed simplicity in order to thrive, but that need has escalated to become non-negotiable as I've got older. 

Today, I went to the store for groceries. It was full of older people bumbling slowly about getting in the way — and I was one of them. I wanted some coleslaw, and at that particular store they make a kind with nuts and raisins added in that I like. So I stood in front of the fridge shelves quite a while, gazing unproductively at a large assortment of coleslaws, all different from each other and none the one I wanted. Behind me, a woman with a trolley stood patiently waiting, and a young man with a stack of plastic trays for online shoppers on a wheeled cart. Another wheeled cart of items to set out on the shelves also stood in their way. In the end I gave up and wandered off, leaving the coleslaw in peace. I wanted salad but wasn't quite sure what exactly. I wanted a couple of other things they didn't have — including fish-only cat food for our seagulls; the catfood shelves were surprisingly sparse. Why? Brexit? Covid? What's gone wrong now?

I left the store without any salad at all in the end. My fridge space is limited and I  . . . couldn't be bothered. I thought I'd go out later to a different place and try again. I got home and did a few chores and then my leg was hurting and I felt so tired. I just sat down and played solitaire.

All by itself with no help from my end, simplicity is finding me. Possibilities are thinning out. The energy for complexity is leaving. On the way home from the store I thought back — with a certain amount of wonder — to the years when I juggled preaching with laundry, grocery shopping, interacting with prisoners, going in to the hospice, writing books, getting groceries, caring for young children, cooking for a family, cleaning house, training for ordained ministry, pastoral visiting — all at the same time! And here I am now, bewildered by coleslaw choices. Simplicity is finding me. God is amused.

I wonder if I should care? I don't. Life is what it is. I was too tired to go out again to the other store. I just sat here and wrote this. I feel entirely content.

In terms of physical items to go, I have set aside two more pairs of shoes for my grandson.

I had all these barefoot shoes because they were perfect before my feet and legs went to the dark side. They are still in very good condition — Ha! Too much selling on eBay! I sound as if I'm trying to sell them to you!

And the Birkis are just . . . probably surplus.