erhaps， that is one reason we yearn for the simple life. In a way， we want to be children， to let someone else carry the awkward backpack of responsibility.
We are like wheat， here on earth to ripen. We ripen intellectually by letting in as much of the universe’s complexity as we can. Morally we ripen by making our choices. And we ripen spiritually by opening our eyes to Creation’s endless detail.
One afternoon I picked up a fallen leaf from the sugar maple in our yard. Up close it was yellow， with splashes of red. At arm’s length it was orange. Its color depended on how I looked at it.
I knew a little about how this leaf had spent its life， transforming sunlight and carbon dioxide into nutrients， and I knew that we animals breathe that oxygen that such plants emit， while they thrive upon the carbon dioxide we exhale. And I knew that each cell of the leaf has a nucleus containing a chemical—DNA—upon which is inscribed all the instructions for making and operating a sugar maple. Scientists know far more about this than I. But even their knowledge extends only a short way into the sea of complexity that is a sugar maple.
I’m beginning to understand， I think， what simplicity means. It does not mean blinding ourselves to the world’s stunning complexity or avoiding the choices that ripen us. By “simplify， simplify，” Thoreau meant simplifying ourselves.
To accomplish this， we can：
Focus on deeper things. The simple life is not necessarily living in a cabin， cultivating beans. It is refusing to let our lives be “frittered away by detail”. A professor taught me a secret for focusing： Turn off the TV and read great books. They open doors in your brain.
Undertake life’s journey one step at a time. I once met a young couple both blind since birth. They had a three-year-old daughter and an infant， both fully sighted. For those parents， everything was complex： bathing the baby， monitoring their daughter， mowing the lawn. Yet， they were full of smiles and laughter. I asked the mother how she kept track of their lively daughter. “I tie little bells on her shoes，” she said with a laugh.