Keep it simple, Smartie

The “smarter” we are, the more complicated we make things. And the harder it is to change.

Rather than trusting what’s simple on the surface, we dig for deeper meaning. Rather than tiptoeing through the tulips, we recall our trip to Amsterdam where, years ago, we bought seeds. We worry for workers who were exploited—and the jet fuel that was wasted—so Trader Joe’s can sell flowers for cheap. We lament the lack of rain.

Smart people like to know stuff. We talk a lot. Go many places. Read many things. We write down our thoughts and we share them.

Why? Yeah, sure. Our brains are on fire. That part is obvious.

But I really think it’s FOBI. Fear of Being Incidental. Fear of Being Invisible. Fear of Being an Idiot.

In my ongoing quest for simplicity and ease, I read and listen to many books on the subject. The latest one—A Simpler Life: a Guide to Greater Serenity, Ease, and Clarity, from Alain de Botton’s School of Life—is truly the best one yet.

Here are a few takeaways that make perfect sense to me—and maybe also to you. 

Speak plainly. With family, friends, or the people we date, the path to simplicity is through becoming more straightforward. A simple person is someone who speaks plainly about what they want and who they are. Around simple, straightforward people, there’s no need to second guess, infer, decode, untangle, unscramble or translate. The trick, of course, is to find them. So it helps, of course, to be one.

Have fewer friends. Imagine gathering sticks in a forest. If we need them for toasting s’mores, we need just a few. But if we aim to heat our home for the winter, we need more than we can carry. The same is true of friends. We should ask what we want them for. Are they to help us know ourselves? Or to round out a pickle ball foursome. Chances are, our life will be richer if we concentrate on the few that matter most.

Read fewer books. Modern culture says the more we read, the smarter (and therefore more interesting) we are. But if we buy that logic, we’ll always feel guilty and pressured and under-informed. I respect my author and poet friends, but as minimalist readers we can zero in on the few key books that help us live a better life, however we define that. Happily, I now have permission to send back the time-consuming third and fourth installments of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan series. Instead I’ll re-read this: A Simpler Life: a Guide to Greater Serenity, Ease, and Clarity.

Think more. One of my former beau friends often tried to inspire me to action by paraphrasing from the film Bull Durham: Don’t think, Meat. Throw! But unless you’re a pitcher on the mound, I think it’s wise to slow things down. Especially at work, stillness and reflection can look like paralysis. Who likes the leader who pumps the brakes? But the only way to stress test our plans and ideas is to iterate through honest and constructive thinking. First internally. And when we’re ready: With others.

So, Friends. Here’s my new plan.

I’m going to say what I think at work and at home. I’ll return the unread Elena Ferrante paperbacks to the library. And I’ll curate my friends list—keeping all of you.

I’ll think more and do less.

And I’ll try to do just the right things.