The fewest words. The least amount of steps. The smallest effort.
The time spent deciding what is and isn’t needed is not as simple as the outcome.
I do not need this house. I could live in a smaller one. We could, all three of us, even the dogs, live in one room. We don’t need the car. We will survive without our phones, without the computers.
We could move south, very far south, and we would not need our heavy coats, these winter boots. We could sell the car and use bikes.
Living a simple life is complicated. The solution may seem simple but getting there, the process, is anything but.
Not only do we have to make all the decisions, not just about things but about how we actually get through the day most easily, we have to carry out the plan.
Simple may be easy, but getting to simple is not.
If the most simple is the best, then we must line up all the options before us and compare. And to do that, we need the options to be there, we have to create them.
William of Occam never mentioned that part. The goal is noble, but like most religious teachings, it is an aspiration rather than a practice.
I pull on my coat. I grab the dog leashes, a different kind of leash for easy dog because one will choke if I attach it to her collar and the other wants to run ahead. I’m walking the dogs in the window between work and dinner. Some days, this is the easiest part of my day.
Some days, it’s the hardest.
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