"Tis a gift to be simple..."

Today I head for my semi-annual time among the Trappist monks at St. Benedict's Monastery in Snowmass. It's a wonderfully refreshing time of peace and holy quiet. It is also an important reminder to me of just how cluttered and complicated my life so easily becomes.

I have often fantasized what life would be like as a Trappist. The rhythm of the day set by worship and prayer, the physical labor, the time for study and meditation...what would it be like to do this not a few days a year but every day?

I doubt I shall ever know. The chances that I shall ever be a monk are profoundly affected by a wife and family. Although there are days when, I suspect, my bride wouldn't object too strenuously to a monastic departure.

In any case, we live in a different world filled with the distractions of everyday life. We are as susceptible as anyone to getting caught up in the race for status and success, the gathering of things. Somehow we become convinced that happiness lies just the other side of that new house or shining car or next corporate rung.

Although few of us are probably drawn to the Amish lifestyle of rather severe simplicity, it is interesting to note that they suffer depression at less than one-fifth the rate of people in nearby Baltimore. Now that may say more about Baltimore than anything else but I have a hunch there is probably a connection between the complexities of our lives and the well-being of our psyches.

Each fall, like many of us, I race around trying to prepare our house and grounds for the coming winter. Part of the task is a thorough cleaning of the garage which, with the coming of minus thirty degree nights, takes on a very important function. Perhaps it is the fact that I am now in my fifth decade but I find it easier and easier to throw away the treasures that I have accumulated over the last fifty years. A kind of ritual cleansing takes place as I chuck the things that I knew I'd never use again when I put them up on the shelves or jammed them into the corners. I feel lighter as the pile for Goodwill grows larger. It is a not so gentle reminder that life is more than my acquisitions.

I've reached the age where I no longer envy others for what they have. (Well, that's not entirely true. My hazel eyes still turn green whenever a new Corvette races by my Metro.) I have enough trouble trying to keep my little home clean and tidy. I can't imagine how those folk occupying the Disneyland castles sprouting up around these mountains manage it. Even the fact that they may have staff to help them just means more problems they have to deal with. It has been my experience that many wealthy people spend an enormous amount of time just dealing with the ramifications of their wealth. There are houses to manage, accounts to oversee, Ferraris to keep in tune. I suppose all of that could be seen as fun...if it wasn't such a hassle.

Please understand I am not equating poverty with simplicity. Poverty is involuntary and crippling. Simplicity is a freely chosen way of living that makes one even freer. Poverty is forced upon too many people. It destroys the spirit. Simplicity allows the spirit to soar.

G.K. Chesterton once mused, "There are two ways to get enough. One is to accumulate more and more. The other is to desire less." I'm not certain which of these two options is easier, but I am convinced which will offer more satisfaction and peace.