Los Gatos Weekly-Times

Finding time to have a life is no simple matter

By Dale Bryant

It was while I was driving to the gym shortly after sunrise one morning--trying to squeeze in some exercise before I planted myself in front of a computer for the day--that I noticed a young woman jogging, headphones in place, a lumbering golden retriever keeping pace on the leash wrapped around his mistress' wrist while she pushed twins in a three-wheeled carriage.

It was an inspiring sight.

These days everyone is trying to figure out how to make the most of their time. And it's a good bet if everyone in the country is feeling so busy that they have no time for a life, it goes double for those of us living in Silicon Valley.

I blame technology. Time-saving devices haven't saved time, they've raised expectations. What used to be accomplished with a trip to the library and hours of research is now done in an hour with an online search. So, naturally, we force ourselves to find 10 times more resources than would have satisfied us in the old days.

When I was growing up, we used to enjoy an outing to downtown San Jose on a Saturday. There was no Highway 880 then, and the trip from our house in Saratoga took us on two-lane roads through prune and apricot orchards. Driving to San Jose wasn't something one did without some planning, and it wasn't something one did on a day crowded with other obligations. These days, I give myself 10 minutes to get from my office in Los Gatos to a meeting downtown.

The subject of our busy lives naturally came up a couple of weeks ago when another friend and I escaped for a day to visit a third friend who lives in one of those delightful little cottages tucked away behind a gate and down a long dark corridor between two houses in San Francisco.

As we sat on her deck enjoying the first sunshine we'd seen in months, we wondered why we don't get together more often. We used to belong to a writers group that met monthly, but these days, who has time?

The answer, said the friend who works at Stanford University, is to simplify our lives.

That sounded good, we all agreed.

It's not something my friend at Stanford had actually done, but she told us that she knows a woman who has begun simplifying her life with religious fervor.

So where did she start?

"Canceled her newspaper subscriptions," she said without a hint of irony. "We don't really need to know about all the terrible things happening in the ... "

"Oh spare me," I said. "I'm a newspaper editor; you'll never convince me that ignorance is bliss."

Then our friend informed us that the woman in question is a Ph.D. "This isn't just a whim," she said. "It's a movement."

Naturally, I was concerned. When I got home that night, I headed right for the computer, got online and began searching: simple lives, simplicity, simplification, busy lives, simplify busy life ...

And here's what I discovered. Simplicity is the buzz word for the '90s. Probably lots of people already know this, but I've been too busy to notice that everyone who's trying to sell something these days justifies it on the basis that it will "simplify your life."

I found pills that will simplify your life, cell phones to simplify your life, online grocery shopping, closet organizers, a gizmo that helps you simplify your life by taking the guesswork out of watering plants, a new magazine to simplify financial information for busy baby boomers, even an outdoor "banquet box" to simplify the lives of busy campers.

But this wasn't exactly a movement; it was simply the latest spin on why we should be consuming more products.

When I stumbled onto the right combination of words, I discovered the "voluntary simplicity movement." Bingo.

If simplification is the current rational-ization for buying more, then the voluntary simplicity movement is the antithesis of the consumer version of simplicity.

At its heart, voluntary simplicity is an Earth-friendly movement with an anti-consumption creed. Its bible is Your Money or Your Life by Joe Dominguez and Vicki Robin.

One Web site heralds voluntary simplicity as a reaction to the "more is better" philosophy of the '80s.

Lessening clutter is a major goal of voluntary simplicity-ites, hence the canceled newspaper subscriptions. On its various Web sites, one discovers a movement that is truly hostile to printing and the consumption of paper, although the movement does sell books, not to mention tapes, videos and a nine-step program to help would-be simplifyers get on with the task.

I have to admit, the goal of slowing down and smelling the roses is not one that I can argue with, and certainly any effort to be kinder to the Earth is admirable. But I do have some difficulty understanding exactly how joining a movement can simplify my life. Movements, after all, require energy.

There are the courses to take, the tapes to listen to, the videos to watch and the books to read, not to mention the many newsletters the movement has spawned. Then there's the advice itself. One newsletter offers tips on "10 painless ways to save $100 this year." Ten ways to save $100 sounds to me like more trouble than it's worth.

Hints from one of the growing number of books to come out of the movement offer these suggestions for simplifying one's life: tell friends you're no longer celebrating holidays; buy dark garments so you don't have to do laundry so often; drink water instead of cola.

It's not that I haven't thought about these ideas--especially the holiday one. Every year I moan that I don't have time for Christmas, but then I realize if I stop celebrating Christmas, I don't get to celebrate Christmas.

You can buy lots of new timesaving products to simplify your life, or you can join a movement to simplify your life. As for me, I actually like my busy life. I'll continue to be inspired by young mothers who jog, listen to music, walk the kids and the dog and enjoy the early morning briskness all at the same time.

Dale Bryant is the editor of the Los Gatos Weekly-Times.

[ Back to Contents Page | Los Gatos Weekly-Times Home Page | Archives ]