I think that is one of the biggest reasons I love coffee so daRn much.
Simplicity. Beans. Water. Brew. Done.
I’m a bit of a purist. I drink my coffee mostly black. Sometimes with a smidgen of sugar. Or honey. That’s it.
The older I get (which I like to think isn’t all that old yet) the more I long for the simple things in life. I really don’t want much. I don’t need a lot. In fact, whenever someone asks what I really want for my birthday or Christmas, I find it difficult to think of anything at all. I have food on my table. I have a lovely place to live. My family is healthy and safe. I have incredibly loyal friends. Beyond that, I really cannot comprehend what might be important.
I suppose that is why I am accruing a slew of gourmet coffees, kitschy coffee mugs, good chocolates, homey candles, and trendy scarves from well-meaning friends and family who have no idea what else to get me should an occasion arise. And that’s not a complaint, because I truly adore all those things. And I love that those closest to me know me well enough not to splurge too much. I like simple things.
Is it ironic that over the course of time, we have continuously innovated and modified our culture with inventions and technology designed to make our lives simpler? To have more free time? To make things easier? Yet, as a whole, people are busier than ever (and grumpier), starving for real relationships (like the kind where you talk to someone’s face, reading everything they are feeling through their eyes, instead of misconstruing a facebook status), and jamming every parcel of spare time with something else (just for the sake of having something to do).
Moments slipping away.
It’s okay to relax. It’s okay to keep it simple. It. Is. Okay.
And that’s what I keep telling myself.
Our darling little town hosts a “Summer Sign-Up” event each May where parents can sign their kids up for every activity under the sun for the summer all in one sweep. It really is a convenient little concept, however, I most generally walk away from the evening with a full calendar and empty pockets. This year was different. I walked away with hoards of paper fliers in hand, determined to just think about some things before signing our summer away.
And guess what. I didn’t sign up for a thing. Not a one! (Except for the summer reading program at the library, which is free, and totally non-committal).
I have the made the decision to take this summer and simply reconnect with my darling girls. I want to dig for worms, roast marshmallows over the fire, camp out in the trees, throw a tea party under the perfectly aged peach tree, unearth family treasures and memories hidden in boxes packed away far too long, makeover their bedrooms into a dreamy wonderland all their own (involving them each in the creative process), bake cookies for a friend “just because,” go stargazing, lay in the grass and pick out cloud shapes, sew coordinating sundresses for all 4 of us, host mid-summer barbecues for all their friends and cousins, and I could go on. And on.
And who knows? Maybe we’ll like it so much that our “Simple Summer” will evolve into “Freedom-from-driving-20-minutes-into-town-every-time-I-turn-around Fall.”
Sometimes it’s okay to just be.
And coffee. Always coffee.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.
4 Even when the way goes through
I’m not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook
makes me feel secure.
5 You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.
6 Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life.
This post is a part of Simple Lives Thursday.