So, simple peace. I guess for me, a lot of my personal transformation started out with that mantra. Like all homesteaders, I do yoga. Okay, another weak joke. I’ve been doing yoga for nearly 25 years. It’s amazing how much better you feel when you actually stretch your muscles and work on core strength. It gives you more energy while also calming you down.
So, the little yoga studio in town introduced me to Nidra Yoga. The Nidra session is amazing for people who get a little too wound up and just need to relax. It’s 45 minutes of stillness where you focus on first relaxing your body and then relaxing your mind. (All of the real yoga folks out there can provide the real guidance on what a Nidra session is intended to provide – this is what it provided to me.) And throughout the session, you are to define one simple phrase that is your intention for that session. Mine was simple peace.
Today, every day is about simple peace.
Simple peace was transformative for me. I was working at a high-stress, executive level job and the joy had been declining for the past few years. I loved the people, loved the work and loved the predictability of the job, but I had started to handle the stress badly, to be honest. Instead of the early days when the stress of the job caused me to be energized and creative, stress had become a real obstacle causing me to feel frustrated, deflated and anxious. It was one of those real cases where it wasn’t the job, it was me.
The unique thing about my situation was that a year prior, I had turned down a consulting job. The job actually meant more money, less time – I’d be working part-time – and working from home. But taking that job was unthinkable. I identified as much with my current role as I had most anything else in my life. This is what I did, therefore this was who I was.
And then that Yoga Nidra session. When asked what my intention was for that session, the thought of “simple peace” came into my mind as quietly as a warm summer breeze. I had begun saying it before I even knew what my intention was. The mere thought of living simply felt like it had always been my goal but I had never slowed down enough to actually think about it.
And peace. Oh goodness, what could I say about peace? It was what I craved most in my life. Peace to me represented freedom from fear and anxiety. Simple peace. To me, it was a roadmap and a destination all in one. Find simplicity and you will live in peace. Live in peace and you will be living simply. It does not mean that bad things won’t happen. It means that for the remainder of my life, bad things will be handled better and the times when I can enjoy being at peace will be greater than the time I spent fearing bad things.
So, I am the dork who falls asleep in Yoga Nidra sessions. I actually woke myself up by gently snoring and was embarrassed to think that my fellow Nidra-ers may have heard me. My yoga instructor assured me she didn’t hear, but yoga instructors are naturally very kind. It’s in their job description. And I wasn’t all that embarrassed. Before I left, I asked when the next session would be.
There wasn’t any big “ah-hah” moment here, however. I did not go home and change my life. There was no epiphany. No dramatic declarations… and I am prone to dramatic declarations. Instead, I went home and made dinner. And that night, as I went to sleep for real this time, I concentrated on relaxing my body and repeating my mantra, “simple peace.”
I found myself gradually defining simple peace over the next several weeks. At first, I would just say it on the way to work. “Simple peace” then meant not allowing the daily mini-crises that erupted to disrupt my sense of calm or create the little twinge of panic that “I must solve this problem right away.” At home, simple peace started meaning a lot of things. It was winter here in WNY – isn’t it always – but simple peace meant finding some winter activities that calmed my mind and let me relax. I had always done puzzles with my mom and sisters as a kid. I went to my mom’s and Amazon and bought some puzzles. I re-introduced them to my mom and sister. I picked up some old books and reread them.
I did other things as well. I turned the television off more and made more meals. I had gotten so busy with work and with the emotional stress surrounding work that home had suffered. We were finally doing the kitchen and it seemed like I had lost all interest in keeping the old decluttered or making good meals. I had to change that. I focused on eating healthier and making more meals.
I had once read that some geniuses often wore the same outfit everyday because their minds simply couldn’t be bothered with making those types of trivial decisions. The article was very favorable about this approach. I found it appalling. I had gotten into that rut myself and I knew why. My mind was so cluttered with all of my worries – both real and imagined – that it was never at peace. Therefore, something as simple as caring about more than just wearing a daily “uniform” to work had long been eliminated from my life.
Gradually, spring eventually arrived and I could now recognize the changes in myself. What had been unthinkable before – actually leaving my job for a new, semi-retirement career – seemed like it could have been possible. That perhaps, just maybe, I ought to reconsider. Weaving into that, my mom had had another rough winter. Another mini-stroke in November had clearly set her back. She was no longer driving. My sisters and I not just needed to assist her, we wanted to assist her. I also realized I had been married three years and my husband and I had not really taken a honeymoon, although we had taken plenty of trips with family.
It was the Tuesday after Memorial Day. Summer was on its way. I had a conference call with a friend from the consulting firm I had originally turned down. She was doing some work for an organization I was involved with and had asked to interview me as part of that work. She had further asked if we could schedule ourselves for an extra half-hour. A little part of me was hopeful that she may just ask if I was still interested. The more practical part of me noted that as we were friends, she either likely just wanted to chat or, perhaps more reasonably, wanted some additional insight into the organization.
We finished our official conversation and she asked me a question, “So, what are you thinking about joining (the firm)?”
I responded back, “I don’t know. Do you still want me?” Her response: “Heck, yes!”
Months of slowly evolving clarity crystalized in that instant. Without hesitation, I said yes. I was ready to pursue a simple peace by actually changing my life and not thinking about it. I had turned down the job in November, attended that Yoga Nidra class in January and was officially a candidate by the end of May. In six months, I had made some progress. Simple peace wasn’t just a mantra anymore.
I went home that night and discussed it with my husband. He was thrilled. While he had been disappointed in November, he had hid it well and I only had an inkling of how happy he would be. I realized then that I had been long putting my job before him, before my fragile mother, before even myself.
It would be another six months before I finally finished my old job, including three months when I officially worked out my notice. It was absolute torture. Not because I was so “ready to be done” but because I had real friendships and respect for my colleagues. I had been their leader for 12 years. I had a tremendous amount of guilt. I knew I would miss them all so badly and that I would have to turn in my membership card for this incredibly special thing that I had been a part of. I cried several times on my way home from work that last month and I cried the whole way home on that last day. But, did I regret it? The truth is no. It hurt so badly but it was time to live more simply.
For the first time since I was a college kid, I had the month of December off. We had a great month. My husband and I got tickets for a Christmas concert at the university where he works and took my family. My mom loved it. She had a smile on her face from the moment the curtain rose until it fell again. I Christmas shopped and wrapped with my sisters and mom. My husband and I went to New Orleans to spend Christmas with his parents and friends. Slowly, I let go of the old and learned to relax. New Year’s Eve was simple. Darryl and I at home. I don’t think we even made it to midnight.
I would lose my mom that year. In February, we noticed that she had not wanted to leave the house since her birthday in January. In March, it was obvious she was failing. In April, we noticed that her arm had started to swell. There were a few nights she was scared and wanted us to stay with her overnight. She thought she had the flu or a cold. We were concerned it was more. In early May, she finally went to the doctor. A second trip got her admitted to the hospital and then to a rehabilitation facility. Her congestive heart failure (CHF) had gotten much worse. In June, on a beautiful sunny day with the promise of summer in the air, she passed away.
Through her last few months, my new lifestyle had meant that I was able to be with her, taking some of the burden off of my sisters who lived much closer. I valued so much that we could surround her with the same love she had always given to all of us. One of my sweetest sad memories is of helping her to wash her hair and gently styling it before helping her get ready for bed. She smiled as she looked at herself in the mirror and told me how relaxed she was and that she would sleep well.
I had not had any regrets about leaving my job but if I had, that time with my mom would have erased them.
The next month, I would watch my husband finish his second long-distance triathlon and his first Ironman branded event. It was another moment that I was able to enjoy without the constant fear and pressure of a high-stress job.
Finally, on November 30th, 2018, it had been one year since I had left my old job and started working part-time. It was a Friday and I normally don’t work on Fridays anymore. However, I had a client that needed to meet with me that day. How ironic that on the one-year anniversary of that career-change, I was once again putting in extra hours?
But it didn’t matter that day. I had arranged the next week to be a little slower. And I was planning on taking over two weeks off for Christmas. All was good.
Today, I still think about “simple peace” at least several times a week. Sometimes, I get busy and I get a little too far away from it. But, I find that it’s easier and easier to re-center and re-focus myself on the concept. It has become second nature to me. I used to be one of those people who makes dramatic declarations and experiences “mini-epiphanies” all of the time. I find it so ironic that the concept of simple peace was neither an epiphany nor an instantaneous declaration. Instead, it was a slow realization of how to build a better life. If that’s your challenge, find your own roadmap and destination. It doesn’t need to begin in a yoga studio. It can begin with a walk in the sunshine, a cup of coffee on the sofa, while watching your children or grandchildren play in the yard, while making dinner… .
Our lives are so chaotic and we blame so many things – our jobs, our TVs, the internet, social media, our kids’ activities. It’s hard to realize that we choose clutter and complication and that we can choose simplification. It is a process that takes time and involves quieting your mind, body and soul at the same time. But it has been for me, infinitely rewarding.
The Yuppie Homesteader 