Voluntary Simplicity

Voluntary Simplicity is a lens. Nothing in the world changes when you pick it up, but quite a lot becomes visible.

The idea is simple, and like most simple ideas it is easy to nod at and hard to use. The nod is free. The use costs attention, every day, in small change.

Strip it to the floor and you find an old instruction: look carefully, judge slowly, act decently. The new name exists because the old instruction keeps being forgotten.

Every January, the gym fills; by March, the regulars have the place to themselves again. The calendar changed nothing. The people who stayed simply stopped asking the calendar for permission.

Time is the one currency the Reserve Bank does not print more of. Tomorrow will provide the test. It always does.