Last week I counted more than 100 kinds of cookies in my grocery store and at least 72 kinds of potato chips. (I lost count.) How do we handle so many choices? How complicated can shopping get?
One of the basic Quakers' beliefs is to live a life of simplicity. It's one of the most difficult principles to follow in today's world of bewildering choices. How can anything be simple anymore? I spent many frustrating hours learning new technology last year, struggling to adapt to ever-more-complicated software. As everything gets more complex, is simplicity even possible?
What do Quakers mean by simplicity, anyhow? It does not mean being poor, doing without or being deprived. Most of the early Quakers were not poor; they were today's middle class: merchants, farmers, trades people, even bankers. In fact, their businesses did so well that some Quakers became very wealthy. Lloyds and Barclays banks in London were Quaker businesses, for example.
One early Quaker stated: "True simplicity consists ... in keeping the material surroundings of our lives directly serviceable to necessary ends." How hard that can be for us today! We are tempted by many gadgets and products that are entertaining or helpful but unnecessary -- and many of us have the means to acquire them.
More than these external actions, I think of simplicity as an internal state -- single mindedness, not spreading myself too thin. It means parceling out my resources deliberately, avoiding waste in things both material and immaterial. It means being intentional in everything, from money to time to attention. It may be easy to spend our money well, while investing our time and attention judiciously can be more challenging. But when we focus our minds on what is really important, and put our attention there, the rest gets easier. A clear mind fosters a clear schedule -- and a simpler life.
Simplicity goes even deeper than being singleminded, however. The single mind is guided by a single heart. The heart knows what is basic. While the mind dithers, the heart knows. The heart can override pride, greed, anger and fear -- even the drive of that single mind.
For example, in the 1980s, I worked full time as a community organizer in the national campaign to stop nuclear weapons. One day, as I was walking down a sidewalk, I felt a sudden "click" in my chest, like a light switch being turned off, and I knew it was time for me to leave the campaign. "But it isn't finished!" my mind objected -- and my heart replied quietly, "But your part is finished."And I quit. My heart knew it was time.
The world needs simplicity. We need clarity of vision, singleness of purpose and undistracted attention to what our heart tells us really matters. When I listen to what's deep in my heart, extraneous distractions fade, my mind is focused, and many choices are not really choices at all. Life gets simpler.
Maybe I don't need any of those cookies or chips.