To Put It Simply

Simplicity is easy enough for those with an appreciation for Thoreau - but a challenge for the girls, like me, who came of age surrounded by Southern California's monogrammed and rhinestoned excess.

This evening, at a bus-stop with a newspaper over my head, I thought back to my brief college romance with Buddhism.  I loved how we were all connected, and the idea having a golden Buddha on my mantel. I figured that whole part about renunciation would come later, with maturity; when I made a conscious decision to shed the things I wanted so badly, but couldn't afford.

But, I never became Larry from The Razor's Edge, or "lost the world in order to find myself".

Somewhere along the line, joy just started pouring from a french press pot; so simple and perfect it doesn't even need to be plugged in. Lately, I find luxury in the feel of a bathmat beneath my feel on a cold morning.

I've never been a champion of low expectations. But, I write this as I drink 3 dollar wine, waiting for the bus. What I want most is to hear my key in the loose lock, opening up my one roomed apartment. Life is so good - half drunk and half way home - counting on something to come. 

I know happiness is somewhere in here, amongst the things I've kept. 

(photos) A romantic Valentine's day dinner : tuna-fish sandwiches, soup and champagne. 

(p.s) the story goes that Thoreau wrote "simplify, simplify" and his best friend Emerson replied "I think one 'simplify' will suffice". We all need an editor, don't we?