Sunday, September 30, 2007
Hell's Kitchen, Sept. 2007
When I wrote about simplicity yesterday, I was coming at it from a consumer angle - that we really don’t need all this stuff, the newest plastic gadget or watermelon in February. But that’s only one aspect of simplicity.
On a deeper level, it means feeling the sun on your face, feeling your breaths in and out, feeling each footfall as you walk, seeing what’s in front of your eyes. Not getting caught up in the dramas of your mind, the crisis of the latest story. That’s true simplicity, and again, I only sometimes recognize it, because I’m as susceptible to drama as anyone.
In the comments yesterday, Reya mentioned the complexity of her thoughts. (That’s why we all loved your blog, Reya!) I may have an advantage here, because honest to God, my thoughts are not all that complex. I pretty much just stroll along, trying to pay attention to what’s around me and avoid being swept away by daydreams. When something really upsets me, I learn all I can about it and then try to remember what's really real.
My father was diagnosed with lung cancer at the beginning of August - not a total surprise, because he’s smoked for 50-plus years and we all knew he had a “spot” that the doctors were watching. The news was upsetting, but at the same time I could meet it with a kind of clarity. I tried not to get caught up in “what ifs.”
I flew down to Florida to spend time with Dad before his surgery. He’s since had his operation, and he seems to be doing well, though healing will take a long time. I don’t mean to gloss it over - it’s been hard for him - but ultimately it’s just a knot of renegade cells. And for the moment - which is all that’s real - they appear to be gone. Is this denial? No, it’s simplicity.