Simple

There are plenty of things that I am eager to do, things that I adorn with heaping measures of nurture and enthusiasm. My schoolwork has (almost) always been one of them, but there are others: music, the garden, baking, poetry, and the paradoxically energizing/energy-draining quest of teaching. For the time being, wedding plans have staked out a place on that list.

I find that I take quite naturally to the assembling of details, the scheming and dreaming, the tender creating of and for a union between my beloved and myself. It feels as if the energy that I put into this work comes back to me in waves, amplified. With such a yield, I am inclined to be extravagant with my energy.

But I'm on the lookout for black holes--the places where energy goes but does not return. What are the things, I ask myself, that I feel "required" to do but would not care if they turned out or flopped? What are the items that hang on my to-do list from week to week, trickling their way to the shameful and conspicuous top? What are the bills that seem a travesty to pay? These are the footholds of clutter, I think.


Simplicity is something that Mark and I both value. Simple living. But in my mind, simplicity does not exclude extravagance; it enables it. Creative simplicity allows me to pour my being into the projects, plans, and peaceful moments as I will. My aim is to stop up the black holes with the broad, smooth stones of sacrifice and temperance.

And then--oh, then!--let the walls tremble with the resounding, echoing, amplifying waves of golden energy given in joy! Let it be ebullient, lavish, and intricate! This is the gift of simplicity: the freedom to spend without reserve on the things that constitute life itself.

There will be days, of course, when such exuberance will not be appropriate; there will be days when I have more black holes than stones to fill them. But for the sake of this day, our wedding day, I am pulling out all the stops . . . by conserving. Listen up, little tasks, you will have to prove yourselves worthy. You will be stripped to your simplest form. But if you prove worthwhile, I will clothe you anew from the gold that I've spun out of straw.