There’s something to be said about the simplicity of life.
We’re encouraged to do more, get more and be more, yet we’re seldom encouraged to appreciate and experience what we already have and who we’ve already become, and we’re suffering as a result.
Many of us don’t feel like we’re good enough, or feel like we have enough, or (for me), feel like we’re doing it the way we’re supposed to. But that’s all completely untrue.
This article explores my own journey towards simplicity, the challenges I’ve faced along the way, and the joyous nature that comes with being present with life exactly the way it is, for now.
The insight about simplicity arrived as a reminder whilst reading green, a magazine on design, architecture, landscape and travel. The article, written about a renovated home in Newtown, Sydney, spoke about the owner’s desire to keep the trees in the back garden in tact. Trimming down the original scope for the project was also noted as the main contributing factor in creating a better outcome.
Reading this article provided a moment to reflect on my own landscape in life, namely with what I write about and how that’s positioned and presented to the world. This awareness allowed me to see that there’s something in the foundation that feels off. Not bad, not wrong. Just… off.
There’s one part of me that says “keep going.”
That’s the conditioned part of me, the inherited ideologies from the world. It’s inherited from coaches, leaders, and people who say that more action is always the answer. It’s the nudge that everything we do is just created from a mental decision, and a commitment to follow it through. And it does have merit.
Yet, there’s one part of me that says, “pay attention to what this feeling is pointing towards, because there’s something in that that could completely alter the direction of your life and business.”
That’s the deep knowing, a soul encoded message. It’s the gut feeling that something isn’t quite right, with the internal nudge to take a step back (just for a moment!), gain some perspective, refine as needed, then go again.
This would be easy if it was my first time doing this.
But over the years, what I write about and how I offer support to others has been iterated many times over. And I’ve unconsciously made this wrong, mostly because it feels like it’s taking much longer than it should, compared to many others who find their pathway much faster.
It’s been an ever-expanding journey, a testing ground, an exploration and a dance between what I can do, what I should do, and what I actually want to do. So no, it’s not a linear process.
It’s rollercoaster like, full of highs and lows. There’s moments of celebration, clarity and complete awe, and moments of frustration, doubt, and on occasion, the feeling of wanting to walk away from it all and find something else to explore.
Thankfully it’s never about walking away for good, but walking away for a short period of time to get clarity and/or myself, back.
My soul chose this path. I choose this path. I choose this exploration of life, the fine-tuning of my desires, the playing with what I truly love and navigating the journey. To many, it may appear that making a logical decision to pick one lane and follow it would be best. But it’s not. Not for me. And I say that with certainty because the one lane approach feels more like a cage than growth, and when I feel trapped, conditioned and blocked in, I don’t feel like myself.
And if I have to choose between feeling like me and a strict, simplistic narrow pathway forward, I choose me. I choose me 1000%.
I am also aware that we are not all wired the same.
I have felt for many years that I was different to the most of the world, especially to those who just seem to be able to pick something and get to work. I have much admiration for these types of people, and yet I also see there’s something they don’t seem to experience as much as I do.
And that’s an unexplainable amount of joy.
There’s few people that I’ve met that seem to get as excited as I do by the simple things: the moon when it’s big, bold and brightly hanging low in the sky; a calm ocean and the most perfect sunrise; the trees and how they just exist; a bird landing on the railing; the taste of a mandarin; the pages of a magazine; the perfection of an image; the words on a page…
I regularly allow myself to be fully in the experience of life. I taste it, I play with it, I devour it as much as I can. So when it comes down to what I do, and what I write about, I’m constantly getting pulled towards a multitude of different directions because there really is so much to write about!
However, this doesn’t seem to fit the mould that I’ve been taught, or even encouraged to follow. It doesn’t seem to fit into the world online, which suggests that having one thing and speaking about that is most effective for growth.
But what of freedom, exploration, play and joy? What about pure excitement for the simplicity of life? There is much to share about connection to oneself, slowing down, passion, purpose and direction. But even that sometimes feels like it’s a cage, and perhaps, I’m making it more complex than it needs to be. In fact, I feel almost certain that I am.
But then, I think about what a gift it is to be here in this moment, sitting out in nature on a picnic bench, with the most beautiful progressive trance playing through my earphones; two rows of pine trees shaping my view; kids playing on the swings; and a dad, daughter and their dog playing on the grass. I’m writing from the heart, reflecting on life and just how bloody beautiful it really is, and in this moment I’m not thinking about what I should write, how I should write it, what the title should be or even if it fits with what I should write about.
I am in the fullest experience of life in this very moment.
I am not disconnected from myself, I am being me, raw, unfiltered and free.
And it feels good to share this without trying to make this into something that is fitting under the umbrella of what I usually write about.
It’s art without limitation.
It’s creativity without restriction.
Today it even has a single focus point, simplicity. Yet tomorrow might be something completely different. And I love that.
Until next time,
Adam xx
