By Donna Hoffmeyer
(original post on Medium)
I was out walking the dog listening to a random podcast and heard the statement “Simple is often the most profound.”
Profound. I had to stop and think about that for a minute. Is simple profound? I answered the question as quickly as I asked it.
As a child, my fondest memories revolved around nature. There was a path, behind my friend Theresa’s house, that led down to railroad tracks, and beyond that, the river. It felt like you were entering Narnia. The path cut down through the birch and pine trees. In the spring, it was a muddy pathway; in summer, a dirt lane; in fall, a leaf-covered trail; in winter, an icy avenue. In the summer and fall, we would dare each other to ride down the path on our bikes; everyone was scared as hell, but no one backed down from the challenge. The tree on the corner, where the path turned slightly right, caught many of us, and minus a couple of scrapes and bruises, graciously left us intact.
Take a right where the trail met the tracks, head down a couple hundred feet, and the “pine forest room” was on the left. It was a magical place for me. It was approximately a 100’ x 100’ area of just tall pine trees. The pine needles shed made soft flooring and absorbed the sounds of the outside world. When I stepped into my enchanted room, I left the world behind. It was the magical place we would make pretend with the neighborhood kids; our camping area; our place to cool off on a hot summer day; and my safe place when my world felt out of control.
I was able to go back to my Narnia. It has been 35 years, but the leaf-covered trail still welcomed me to walk down to the tracks. The tree we ran into many times is still there. I silently thanked it for catching us during our ego-driven adventures.
Trains have not ridden on the tracks in years, but the tracks still lead me to my pine forest room. I almost do not recognize it. Many of the pine trees are gone. The soft, beautiful needle flooring is now interspersed with broken branches and small pine trees. It looks different. It is not how I remember it until I look over and see a small spot, where there are more pine trees and less debris…and then it comes back. My safe place, my playground..my Narnia.
As I walked back down the tracks, the sun was starting to set, the river was calmly flowing, and the air was crisp. Milkweeds were in full bloom, and I smiled as I pulled the seeds out and set them afloat in the breeze. I was in awe that this was where I grew up. No movie theaters, no after-school programs, no entertainment spots, no chain restaurants…just nature. We were so lucky to have nature as our playground. I just had no idea exactly how lucky we were.
I love looking at the stars. Our 6th-grade science teacher, Ms. Owen, burned the constellations in our little forming brains. Pleiades is still my favorite. We would lay on the lawn, or in cooler months, in a tent, and gaze for hours. Planets, constellations, meteor showers, and even Halley’s Comet danced in the sky, fueling our dreams of becoming astrophysicists and rocket scientists. Unfortunately, the stars are hard to see where we currently live. The light pollution in San Antonio washes out their brilliance. I get so excited when I go home and gaze again. I can never get enough.
My parents own a Christmas Tree plantation. The majority of the plantation is on Stevens Hill. At the top of the hill is my grandparent’s farmhouse, complete with a wrap-around porch. One of my Uncles owns it now. It’s always at least 5 degrees cooler up there, and so quiet, stealth mode would be a challenge to the most skilled. When you sit on the porch you can see miles of rolling hills lined with Christmas Trees. I am pretty certain it is one of the most serene places on this planet.
The only family vacation we took was our annual trip to Little Field Beaches. (Minus, one trip to Hershey, PA.) We brought our little pop-up camper, and year after year, tucked it under the trees for 2 weeks. Days were filled with bike riding, swimming, boat rides, blueberry picking, campfires, and arcade time with family and friends. I was a pinball champion (if only in my mind).
Simple is the most profound.
Those were some of my best memories of childhood. I couldn’t tell you what I got for hardly any birthdays and most Christmases. I do remember my 18th because it was a trip to England with my best friend. Easy there, this wasn’t some all-expense paid trip. My parents scraped together the money for the plane ticket and whatever spending money I brought I had to save from my job. Hostels and friends were our accommodations.
I can tell you about being stranded in Stratford-upon-Avon; fake sleeping on the train to Scotland so we didn’t have to move; eating the best bread and cheese sandwiches I had ever had; meeting a future US tennis star at a hostel; visiting the actual Robin Hood tree; and sleeping in a tent during a rainstorm. But I couldn’t tell you anything about the brand of clothes we wore, how nice the hostile beds were, or what souvenirs we bought.
That trip was the catalyst for my desire to travel. It is the reason I buckled down in college; the reason I chose the military; the reason I became a flight nurse. It was the simple experiences (meeting people, learning new cultures, and walking through periods of history) during that trip that made me hungry for more experiences.
Simple, yet a profound influence on my life.
Keeping a Simple Perspective
Life has become significantly more complex since those days…some good, some challenging. Through it all, my country-girl roots remain strong, and I have continued to carry a simplistic view.
When I walk out my front door, my favorite thing to do is see how many flowers have bloomed on my hibiscus plant.
I love sitting in the backyard and listening to our chimes (bought at Buc-ees I might add…if you are from Texas you’re feeling me) and watching the hummingbirds.
My favorite ritual in the morning is getting a cup of tea.
My favorite gifts are the ones my children made, picked, or re-gifted from their toys.
I love watching our geriatric dog and puppy bond.
I love watching our kids snuggle with the dogs when they watch TV. I can never tell who is more content…the kids or the dogs.
I cherish friends that check up on me, just because.
Less is More
Minimalism is a movement that has been on the rise for several years. (Here’s a great article on minimalism.) People are giving up big corporate jobs and McMansions for homesteading and tiny homes. Instead of their annual vacation, they are finding ways to make vacation a part of their lifestyle. RVs are more popular than ever. People are finding ways to live with intent; to materialistically do more with less.
COVID, through some level of attrition, has helped this minimalist approach. People lost their jobs and may have had to downsize, and/or reinvent themselves to survive. Small business owners have had to streamline to endure the storm.
People started to lose loved ones and it made some question their priorities, leading them to a more simplified lifestyle, with friends, family, and experiences over things.
Research has proven more money does not buy more happiness. The threshold is around $75K for an individual. More than that may provide extra security, but not necessarily more happiness. Do not confuse the two, especially when you use the money to “level up” your lifestyle. You can feel secure and still be unhappy when priorities are off target, as this article describes. Crazy, eh?
We bought our house 12 years ago when the market was suppressed. It is modest, not my favorite layout, and a little short on space for my taste. We could easily sell and make a significant profit, only to have to buy something more expensive. It would be more stressful to have a bigger house payment, than to live with a little less room than I desire.
My SUV was 12 years old, had 159K miles on it, and the hood and roof were pretty sun damaged by the time I finally broke down to buy a new vehicle. But, only because it started to become expensive to keep up.
I own two “fancy” purses. I bought one at a lavish store right off the Spanish steps in Rome…19 yrs ago. I just retired it. The other one I bought a few years ago from a business that supports women entrepreneurs in third-world countries.
My favorite place to clothes shop is a consignment store or the clearance rack. I haven’t been mistaken for a homeless person yet. (Well, at least to my knowledge.)
Before COVID hit, one of our favorite things to do was invite friends over for a Sunday dinner. We’re looking forward to starting that back up after the holidays and connecting with people again.
My husband and I have always chosen to live well below our means all our adult life, mostly because it is less stressful. Coming from families where money was not free-flowing was a major influence in keeping it simple. It has also allowed both of us to retire by age 50 and choose what we want to do next. That’s pretty profound in my book.
So, I challenge each of you to find the profound in the simple things. Live in the present, take in each moment; worry less about status and more about connection; and show gratitude for everything life has to offer.
You may be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.
