How to Find Simplicity in a Complicated World

On the Power of Letting Your Work and Yourself Rest

Dear Creatives,

I sat down to write this Tuesday. I poured words into a journal, and a notes app, and notion, a few post-it notes, and finally, here. And it all felt like a tossed syllable salad.

So I let the words rest.

I was going to write this yesterday, but my pup Charlie got his ears cut during his grooming. My house looked like a crime scene. I was exhausted.

So I let myself rest.

Sometimes we find more when we choose less.

The air was swollen with rain as rivulets traced their way down my back in the thick Florida heat this morning. It’s the twice-weekly ritual of gathering all the things that need to be thrown away and fitting them like a real-life Tetris game into my one allotted bin.

Minnesota. Not yet, but I’m coming. | Photo by Josh Hild on Unsplash

This summer has been an odd season in almost every way. I’ve been living among half-packed boxes in between the now and the not yet.

My brain keeps misquoting Richard III… t’was the summer of our discontent. Well, winter is summer somewhere. 🤣

Everything feels sticky and complicated. News stories. My kitchen countertop. The jam jar lid I’ve wiped down easily 5 times.

Here’s the thing… sometimes life pitches curveballs.

I thought this summer was the time I would be moving to Minnesota. If you’re new here, MN has a much better medical system and insurance situation for my long-term complex needs.

However, with all the budget bizarreness, it is unclear now how things will be applied, so I am back in the land of wait-and-see, unpacking and putting away what was boxed.

Minnesota will happen. The boxes are ready when the time is right.

But in this moment, moving states has more to do with moving my state of attention to focus on writing The Wonder Habit® book and building our space here.

Moving states can mean many things.

In the middle of all the flux, I have been craving clear-surfaced, feels-like-a-hotel-room simplicity.

I think of Maya Angelou, who famously kept a hotel room in every place she lived just for undistracted writing.

Laser-focused. Not with 10 side projects and 50 ideas. Not throwing a pot of spaghetti at the wall. There are seasons for that. This isn’t one of them.

When the world dips and spins like a tilt-o-whirl in a windstorm, the answer to too much isn’t more.

No matter how loudly the internet screams. More hauls. More deals. More projects. More accolades. More cookies.

You can never have too many lip balms. Step right up and get one more. You might find the perfect lip balm, and then you can ditch the others and live your best minimalist life.

Tell me, I’m not the only one who has this tiktokified thought loop.

Often the thing our creativity needs most is less, so we have more space for what matters.

Less so our creativity has space to breathe and make connections.

Less so we can let our creative work rest and rise.

We don’t need 10 pages of new creative ideas; we need to show up for the main ideas we already have.

Sometimes in our search for perfection, we overlook what we already have right in front of us.

The more we spread our energy thin, the less energy we have to put into any one focal point.

Scattered is neither sustainable nor strategic.

When I feel overwhelmed, it’s usually because I am chasing more when I need to be embracing less.

How Do We Shift Toward Simplicity?

Everything feels relentless and loud right now. But we can adjust the volume in a million little ways.

Enter my 18-month weekly Moleskine planner.

I have tried a solid 80% of the planner systems known to man.

Bullet journaling. Aesthetic bullet journaling. Hobinichi. Full Focus. Erin Condren. Generic office shop. The Happy Planner. And on and on.

There’s a part of my brain that loves finding patterns and building systems.

But the more complicated I make it, the less likely I am to use it.

The same thing goes for our creative practice. The more complicated it is, the less likely we are to consistently engage with it.

This week I shelved my elaborate multi-notebook quarterly planning system that always made me feel behind and went back to a simple Moleskine weekly planner. Days of the week on the left. Lined blank page on the right. That’s all.

In the empty spaces, I’m pouring tiny moments of poetry into the margins.

Less is giving me capacity for more. When we simplify, we become spacious.

What is the smallest thing you can strip out or streamline in your everyday world that might make more space for wonder? Where can you press pause so you have more room to play?

I may not be moving to my dream cottage with 4 seasons in Minnesota at this exact moment, but I’m breaking out the paint to create art on my walls and do the whimsical projects that were on hold.

I’m turning my house into an art project. It will either be the thing that sells it. Or its future owners will paint over my escapades.

I want to unfold honestly because becoming is its own kind of brave. These are the journeys that must not be rushed.

I’m not staying here long-term, but I’m here now.

So I am going to… Be. Here. Now.

Because now is all we ever truly have. Wonder is only found here, in the middle of our now. And I’m determined not to miss it.

Here YOU are. Thank you for being you. In case no one has told you lately:

We need your paint splotches. We need your poetry. We need your words. We need your images. We need your voice.

We need the story you are writing with your life one moment at a time.

We need you.

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All my love,