Note: This is a guest post from Angelina Lee of Exploring Plan Be.
There are times when we know we need something. When we need more. We may not know exactly what it is that we desire, but the longing is there. A soul level longing that isn’t easily shaken or ignored.
For years I struggled with this feeling. I wanted more of something, but couldn’t quite understand what it was. It couldn’t have been things, because the more I acquired the deeper this void felt. It couldn’t have been success, because the more I achieved the less interested I became.
This is when the hard questions become necessary.
I sat down one day with an unrelenting need to write. At the time, writing for pleasure wasn’t something that I did often… or at all. So when this feeling came over me, I had to oblige.
I started to write about what I wanted for my life.
At the very top of my unexpectedly short list I wrote the words “to be happy.” That seemed so simple.
Could simple be enough?
I had to start somewhere. I had read once that the clutter in our homes operated as a silent stressor. I had such a longstanding relationship with overwhelm that I wasn’t convinced that making space in my home could make a difference. And so I started small.
I cleared out some unused clothes and donated them. I was surprised at how much lighter my closet—and my spirit—felt from this simple act. Little by little, we went through our home and gave away so many things that we had never used before, some of which we never even remembered that we had.
The more we gave away, the less we realized we actually needed.
But that longing was still there. I now knew that what I wanted with every fiber of my being was to be happy, and I suspected that simplifying some of our possessions was just the beginning. I wanted to simplify my life.
But what did that mean, exactly? I dreamt of moving slowly and steadily through my days. Of saying no with ease. Of being truly present with those that I love. Of being truly honest with myself.
I no longer wanted to live in a constant whirlwind. I no longer wanted to chase accolades. I no longer wanted to give the best of me to things that didn’t really matter. I wanted life to be simple.
Could simple be enough?
I started with the word ‘no’. It was terrifying at first, but I quickly realized that saying no to the things that I no longer wanted for myself brought much peace. Soul level peace that far outweighed the discomfort of saying no.
The more I said no to things that no longer served me, the more I was able to say yes to the things that I thought were important.
A new appreciation for intention was born, one which has brought with it the gift of presence. Soul level presence that has made me realize just how much we miss when we are distracted by things that don’t matter.
The more I practiced intention in my work, in my relationships and in my schedule, the more freedom I felt. Soul level freedom. Freedom from guilt. Freedom from expectations. Freedom to slow my pace and quicken my heart.
Years later, I look around and see a life that I had never expected for myself. A life that seems… simpler. And I ask, can simple be enough?
Now I know the answer.
Simple isn’t just enough. It’s abundant.
It has brought an abundance of joy. An abundance of happiness. An abundance of space, both in my home and in my calendar.
Simple isn’t just enough. It’s deeper than enough. It’s soul level.
It has taken me from soul level longing to soul level peace. Soul level presence. Soul level freedom.
Simple isn’t just enough. It is bountiful.
It breeds contentment. It yields gratitude. It nurtures passion.
Simple isn’t just enough. It is less and it is more.
Less expectations and more authenticity.
Less distraction and more connection.
Less doing and more being.
I searched for simplicity, wondering if it could ever be enough, and what I found was a life of abundance.
Angelina Lee is a wife, mother of three, and an Attorney-at-Law in the Caribbean who seeks to delve deeper into the art of being with her blog Exploring Plan Be. You can also find her on Facebook and Instagram.