My life is simple. Perhaps the simplest it will ever be.
A few nights ago I found myself in complete disarray – overwhelmed and pulling my hair out from stress which had engulfed my every thought. But why?
It was a long day. My sunrise run had parlayed into my morning temple trip, which quickly blurred into a hectic day at the Bagru Textile office. A large order had been misprinted, another was behind schedule, the email inbox seemed to be growing much faster than our outbox, and on top of this – we had a client visiting that needed to be tended to. It was, naturally, “just one of those days” – I couldn’t catch a break. Truthfully, these types days have been happening more often than not – with business picking up, there is always more to be done, particularly when deadlines need to be met.
After work winded down around 5pm I excused myself from the office and walked to a nearby school where I teach English. Teaching has been a rewarding reprieve for me, and something I look forward to. Since my students attend school all day, I try to keep class light and energetic. My thought-process is that if they’re speaking English at all, it’s a victory. Anything they learn is more than they would sitting at home. This often creates a half-circus/half-English class jubilation. On this particular day I was attempting to describe the difference between “a favor” and “favorable” – all while a young toddler was crawling under the benches and tickling everyone’s feet. In addition, there are always kids coming in and out of the classroom, women poking their heads in and yelling in Hindi, more heat, and no AC.
When I walked back home after class I had a throbbing headache and was greeted by a slew of urgent emails. Since we are 9.5 hours ahead Eastern Standard Time, our most important emails/calls of the day come at night. I drafted an email with Vijendra, helped prepare a shipment, ate a quick dinner of 8 chipatti breads alongside some dal, and went to my room at 8pm. Finally, the day is done! This moment was short lived, however, as two hands wrapped around my neck and another two covered my eyes. “Davis! Davis! Davis! Play some music – let’s dance!” My siblings, Yash and Chehika, wanted to play. They started jumping on my bed, (a nightly routine) their feet obviously painted with dirt.
If I ever refuse to play with them, Yash and Chehika start slapping the mannequin next to my bed across the face (I’ve named the mannequin Shelby, after my sister. They know I don’t like it when they hit Shelby). This is when I started pulling my hair and swearing under my breath.
I walked out of the room, went upstairs onto the roof, laid down on the pebbled concrete and looked up at the stars. I immediately noticed the silence. I’d never heard such echoing tranquility in Bagru – no horns, animals, people, or buzzing mosquitos. Just me, the stars, and the same moon you saw get eclipsed by the earth’s shadow a mere 48 hours before.
I can almost guarantee that my life is simpler than yours. The only responsibilities I have are my two meals a day, trying my best at work, and being respectful. That’s it. I’m not joking.
I have no boss, no salary, no girlfriend, no mortgage, no debt, and a life without luxury – no car or the desire to buy the newest fashion statement. I wear the same underwear for three days at a time and haven’t shaved my grotesque moustache for almost three months. I eat virtually the same meal, twice a day, every day. In my free time I mindlessly scroll through LinkedIn and realize how far from a cubicle I am in Bagru. My weekly food shopping includes 10 bananas for 50 cents and a pack of almonds for 6 dollars. I’m in bed by 9pm and haven’t had a hangover in India. I beat to my own drum – doing what I want, when I want.
Simplicity is a stream of life that many strive for. My father, for example, is a “simple man.” What does this mean? He can count on one hand the things he needs to survive: Family, dog, cycling, health, and challenge. That’s it. He’s been eating the same turkey sandwich for lunch every day for the past 30 years, and he’d choose his morning routine of [biking-coffee-dog walk] over any 5-star tropical resort in the world. Simplicity at its finest.
You can read Thoreau, Emerson, and other transcendentalists to fully understand the privileges that life simple life in solitude offers. And although I’m not outcasting myself from society, I have indeed detached myself from many of my ‘old’ habits. There’s some merit to this, and parallels can be made.
Though to be fair, a simple life isn’t for everyone. Many people would prefer more hustle-bustle, busy schedules, and unpredictable change. For some, simplicity isn’t exciting enough.
Either way, this debate isn’t about which lifestyle is better. To each their own, if you can make it work, that is. For me, the question remains: If my lifestyle of simplicity is supposed to hone my values, keep my goals in-check, and reduce stress, why do I still find myself kidnapped by pressures, anxieties, and worries?
The answer is twofold: I admittedly don’t step back enough to address the accessibility of my simple life; it’s not complex at all. On the other hand, I have an insatiable desire to challenge myself – and, with each new challenge, there is another set of unknowns, strains, and stresses. The trick is identifying how to keep these in line.
During my time in India, I am trying to balance the two – living a simple life, while pushing my limits in every capacity: personally, professionally, socially, and athletically. This is how I can gauge my successes. Yet, we still see there is no predestined calculation to engage in an intercourse of simplicity and complexity.
Maybe just doing what makes you happy isn’t a bad place to start.