Simply Solitude

Posted on January 26, 2012 by Simpletom

Like many a seeker I found, lost, found and ultimately lost myself in Dharmasala.

I remember thinking that if I was to get a tattoo at that time, as a 19 year-old is want to, it would have been of a traveller with a cane over his shoulder, with all his worldy possessions tied into a handkerchief.

Fortunately I didn’t. It would have been a shit tattoo.

No, I wouldn’t have actually got this one, but you get the picture.

The reason – I was musing on self-sufficiency. I had been reading a load of the requisite ‘eastern’ literature. I’d realised, as so many had before me, that to be in control of one’s own emotions enabled freedom. To have that type of control enables one to deal with any situation, anywhere, with anyone.

For years during my youf, I never liked to be alone and chased company. Today, I love solitude – albeit it in moderation. Or at least I prefer no company to bad company.

Yet a while back I posted about not starting a business with partners.

My opinion has changed. I was wrong. Again.

I’ve spent the last 9 months working alone and achieved many things. Yet in the last few months as my business pivots, I’ve realized I need a partner, partners even. And as I begin to work with people, I remember the benefit they bring.

It’s possible to be effective alone, but as a social being, I believe that partnerships actually bring out the best. They help you to monitor your own mad thoughts, they create expectations and they keep one from disappearing into another rabbit hole of thinking.

The same could be said of my love life. Fiercely independent, I’ve preferred to remain alone rather than compromise. Yet I wonder if a relationships is, in fact, a more powerful place from which to grow. Scrap that, it almost certainly is. It’s easy to be alone – it prevents contradiction and challenges to one’s ‘way’. Yet, I’ve watched my friends become better people through the rounding that a relationship brings.

That’s the easy bit – realisation – now to find the balance, day-to-day.

A great friend enjoying a moment alone...

Simply Loosing It

Posted on September 29, 2011 by Simpletom

Simpletom…?!?

Are you still there?

Is that you?

Oh dear.

This last couple of weeks, it’s just been Tom. Perhaps Stressedtom, Anxioustom or even Corporatetom…but frankly there needs to be some serious ember blowing on the coals of calm to be allowed to write here as Simpletom.

In addition, it’s entirely of my own doing. No external influence has induced this mania. There’s been no health scares, external issues, arguments, loves lost, keys dropped down drains, financial disasters or mishaps. Just a healthy dollop of self-induced pressure, layered-on expectation with a dash of flagellation.

As the cool of autumn creeps into the streets, is there a sense of another year passing that is igniting a sense of inadequate productivity?

Why do we tangle ourselves in these self-made balls of stress?

I’ve written here many times that more seems to get done when you let go of things than when you try to grab at things.

I’m no stranger to the world of hard work, but I lament the modern ideology that we must work faster and harder, despite our technological advances. Are many of our environmental disasters caused not because of basic need, but the hyped sense that we’re only human if we’re continually achieving?

This week I’ve achieved much, and yet nothing. I’ve made connections, sent mails and seen some chinks of light, yet I have nothing physical to show for my many hours spent tap-tapping away at this computer and yak-yacking away on the phone. The whole week I’ve been trying to do things more quickly, while lamenting my tiredness and inability to keep up a continual breakneck pace.

I’ve remembered to ‘manage my energy, not my time’, yet it still remains a concept rather than a reality.

It’s made all the more difficult by the knowledge that I ‘should’ be simplifying and that this momentum runs counter to my instincts, conflicting with the knowledge that building a business is difficult and needs utter focus. Sadly, my new entity isn’t a kinky platform that once built will scale exponentially – instead, it’s very much a ‘you get out what you put in’ type of business. That means every hour spent languishing and laughing could, through the lens of ‘success’, be viewed as a lost hour.

These last weeks I’ve not maintained the balance. When working, I’ve felt stressed at the weight of work to do. When not working I’ve felt guilty about the work I’m not doing. I’m neither here nor there.

Stress isn’t good for me. I feel breathless. No matter how long I sleep, I still feel exhausted. I just cannot enjoy myself.

Time for some self-medication (of the simple kind):

Please Stressedtom; remember that that one’s work is never…can never be done, because there is always more. You need to expect less, enjoy more.

You need to remember never, ever to compare yourself with others. They are exactly that – others – who have an entirely different physical, emotional and circumstantial makeup, which means that many of the things you covet in others are realistic, or would damage your own existence.

You need to remember that you’re all right sometimes. Flagellation isn’t constructive for growth.

You need to remember that Rome, or even Milton Keynes for that matter, wasn’t built in a day.

You need to remember what makes you happy.

‘Tis BE – not TO BE – that is the answer.

A reminder of less stressful times - an 'average' evening spent on the beach in Goa

Simplicity In 10 Simplish Steps

Posted on March 31, 2011 by Simpletom

If I followed all my advice, I would be disgustingly overearnest.

If I never got drunk, the hazy moments skinny-dipping, or sliding in mud at festivals, or midnight boat trips or all the rest of the wonderful semi-memories I have, might never have happened.

If I’d been wholly dedicated to one career, or my businesses had flourished straight away, perhaps I’d have seen less of the world, been on fewer adventures, or spent limited time with my friends.

If I was money-conscious, I could not have done many of the enjoyable, simple things I’ve done.

If I’d kissed all the girls (sorry – young ladies) that I’d set out to kiss, then the times I succeeded wouldn’t have been as wonderful. Plus I’d probably be an arrogant bastard.

I love failure. It teaches as much, if not more, than success.

Yet we’re taught that failure is negative. Bad ‘simpletom’, only got 5 out of 10 in his spelling test. ‘He failed to realise his potential’ was conspicuous by its continuing presence on my school report cards.

I realise that many of my recent posts have repeated a theme – going easy on oneself, removing double binds or conflicting expectations, and not working too hard. Through a specific lens it would be easy to see these proclamations as those of someone battling with self-justification. Well, that is completely the case. Guilty as charged.

Yet there’s an extremely important theme to this continuing repetition, which I cannot be reminded of enough. I’ll try to summarise this with a few key points.

If I could remind myself of a few things daily, these would be:

There’s a chasm between what you think you can do and what you can do. Always. The only way to find peace within oneself is to accept what you do, not what you might have done. Dreams are great until you try to live up to them.
The only route to happiness is by becoming better at failing and accepting failure. The happiest are those who best know themselves, rather than those who are the ‘best’.
Sometimes, you’ll have a really shit day, even if you’re totally aware of #1 & #2 and your overearnest placid self-help mechanism will grind to a halt and you’ll forget all the good lessons you’ve ever learned.
Sometimes you’ll have a brilliant day when you completely ignore #1 & #2, then wonder if #1 & #2 are true and if #3 will ever happen again, because everything’s great and you’ll try to repeat this day as often as possible, ignoring all your experience that tells you that it’s not sustainable, which eventually will mean you end at #3.
#3 & #4 will keep happening, ad nauseum.
You’ll never escape your body, mind or history (except through death, which is inevitable).
If you write too many blog posts about ‘deep shit’, you’ll start to feel disgustingly earnest.
Some days you’ll wonder what on Earth you’re going on about and wonder whether that means you’re having a #3 day or a #4 day.
None of this really matters – at all – so you might as well try to kiss people and get drunk and ignore your advice while you keep one eye on #2.
You’ll forget #9 and repeat from the beginning. The more repetitions you do, the easier it will get – which is why grannies are usually pretty Zen

You Don’t Matter

Posted on March 29, 2011 by Simpletom

Since the dawn of human consciousness and rational thought (something that has seemingly yet to occur for some ‘Tea Party-goers’ in the US), we have hunted for meaning or significance (or maybe just the significance of meaning).

The questions are not new:

What is the meaning of life? Why am I here? Is there a God? If God created everything, then who created God? What should I do with my life? What is our purpose? If a bird shits on my head, is that really lucky, or just a way of dealing more placidly with the cleaning? Have I the time to read this blog post or should I be getting on with something more important? What dictates importance? Am I important? Who to? Is it important to be important? What if I am really important but really miserable? What if I am really, really unimportant but happy?

I help people find jobs – hopefully jobs that are meaningful to them and more meaningful to society in general.

One of the most common complaints among these job-seekers, as well as others I meet, is that most have not yet figured out ‘what they’re doing with their lives’.

Very few people I know feel they are wholly embracing their calling. Many of those who have found their passion seem to need that passion to give them meaning – namely, it is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

What if you never figure out what you’re doing with your life?

What if, despite how hard you work, or what you do, nothing you do matters?

If you never figure ‘it’ out and nothing you could ever do matters, is that a horrible thought or an enriching one?

In their hunt for meaning, most find the idea that they are not important terrifying.

I find it deeply exciting and powerful.

If nothing I do, or could do, is of any importance, it gives me huge freedom. It removes the shackles of expectation. It enables me to live in the present, rather than looking to the future, or the past, to determine where I’m heading, or what I’ve done.

I spent many years hunting for meaning. Now, I find more significance in the absence of meaning than I do in its pursuit.

Insignificance can be frightening. It can suggest sliding into the nihilism of Crime and Punishment or The Dice Man. Without meaning, we have free licence, it would seem, to do what we want and that could be bad, even evil.

But that kind of meaningless seems to suggest that without some set of rules or ideas to which to pin ourselves, we are lost.

I disagree.

I believe that human nature is essentially good. Mother Nature, for example, has rules that were existing long before we decided to pin our rationalisations to them.

I don’t believe that, left to our devices, the world inevitably becomes a Lord of the Flies type scenario. It can. But it is not inevitable.

And certainly, the rules imposed by religions and governments can often create more issues than are solved. From the crusades, to holy war… from cultural revolutions to genocide, the rules and systems are regularly used for destruction. Even capitalism, our ‘modus operandi’ manages, in its purest form, seemingly to cause as much, if not more, damage than it solves.

I find that when I let go of the pursuit for that meaning – in the acceptance beyond the hunt for, or someone else’s definition of, meaning – that is where I truly thrive. It is there, when I’m just living and not pursuing, paradoxically, the most meaning is found.

Truth is God

Posted on March 16, 2011 by Simpletom

Your closest friends, partners or family – do they know how you really feel?

I feel that as a society, we tell people too often what they want to hear. ‘Oooh, what a nice dress’ or ‘yes I absolutely agree’, or ‘what a nice little dog’ are expressions that spring too rapidly to our lips, hiding our true feelings… especially when the dress is a purple and yellow explosion (I was going to use the word ‘creation’, but the ‘big-bang’ theory still seems to be quite popular!), or the ‘agreeable’ statement slips from the lips of a creep, or the dog is a rabid shiatsu poodle, with the temperament of a randy pitbull (now that is stretching the word ‘creation’ to the limits!).

It seems that many of us would prefer to discuss the political situation in foreign countries or the social foibles of celebrities we have never met rather than our personal existential angst.

What would happen if we told people exactly what we thought? Would we be branded disagreeable, or otherwise – perhaps truthful, perceptive and more interesting? Would we be considered boring if we were more lucid about our lives? Would we lose our jobs, our partners and our friends – or would the opposite occur?

I believe the world would be more colourful and our lives could be better.

We automatically assume that our internal monologues are boring, or offensive… yet people I know, who are not afraid to tell people how it is, are often highly valued at dinner parties or by friends in need of advice. I would much rather spend a day with someone prepared to be honest, straight and true than someone who tells me exactly what I want to hear.

With this in mind over the past few years, I have tried to appease less and speak my mind more.

It has not always worked. Sometimes my thoughts are poorly timed and badly placed. Eloquence (and diplomacy) has often escaped me just when it is most needed. I have yet to be slapped, but I have certainly been ignored and spurned.

Yet even then, it still feels good.

My life has certainly felt more realistic. I have made closer friends, despite my fears that the opposite might occur. Conversations have become richer. Problems have been shared. Beautiful moments have been made brighter.

Like many of my ‘Simpletom’ experiments, there is little rocket science to these changes. Instead, just a subtle shift of consciousness. There is so much more that can be done and I could become so much better, even at this simple task.

But it is rewarding to be aware, even if that results in (oh so) subtle changes, so I shall continue with more of the same.

So, whether you are in a business meeting, at home, giving a speech, or chatting in the pub, here is the approach that has worked for me:

If you find yourself about to say something that is simply not true, or might contradict your true feelings – hold back – rather say nothing instead (unless you are giving a speech, of course…) For the rest, you will notice that the less you contradict your true feelings, the better you will feel.

Try starting sentences with ‘I disagree’ and wait for the reaction. If you find yourself among people who hate to be contradicted, refrain but determine whether they are people you want to spend time with. If you find your thoughts appreciated, you are on track to the truth.

Analyze your feelings when you do find yourself having to toe the line. How does it make you feel? Are you able to be as convincing, or as interesting? Does it make you feel good? Is it necessary?

Try some of your more controversial theories. They are often not as much a depth charge to the conversation as you might imagine. If you find yourself in boring company, say something a little fruity. You will often find people lighten up and the boring becomes interesting if you can break the politeness and get to the meat of conversation.

Truth is God – Gandhi

Inside Simplicity

Posted on February 17, 2011 by Simpletom

“Our lives are frittered away by detail; simplify, simplify.” — Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

First published in 1854, Henry David Thoreau’s work Walden is considered an American classic. It is an autobiographical diary, of sorts, that details Thoreau’s time living in a cabin in the woods near Walden Pond, in Massachusetts.

Thoreau lives in the cabin for two years, in an attempt to gain perspective on ‘society’, and focusing instead on simple living.

The book is not without its critics. However its place in American, even global, culture remains undisputed.

What is it about the book that captures a reoccurring zeitgeist, making it as relevant today as it was in the C19th?

Stripped bare of the mania of extravagance, possessions, complexity, luxury, distraction, noise etc – there is a beauty. A raw, unadulterated self that brings about great joy in the individual.

Without the noise, we find ourselves.

Certainly, there can often be pain in the shedding of these layers en route to our inner selves. However, once we gnaw through and seek the truth, we find our authentic selves shine more brightly without these cloaks.

That’s the key to simplicity. Shedding the superfluous. Understanding what contributes positively to the nature of your being and ignoring the distractions. The key is finding the pieces that matter most to you and removing those that take away. It’s not necessarily about having, or not having possessions, but about finding oneself.

It is not easy. We need to distinguish between those elements that leave us with a net positive, and those that result in instant pleasure but a net negative.

Simplicity is different for each of us. Whereas some people find simplicity on a roll-mat in a forest, I find it difficult to sleep without comfort. For me, a cabin or a tent with a mattress is a necessity. Understanding one’s own basic necessities and what makes us happy requires honest self-examination.

Simplicity is about peeling away the layers of confusion and seeking the sustenance beneath.

That is why Walden is timeless. It is because simplicity is so easy and so rewarding that it is extremely accessible. Yet the decision to simplify, or the societal barriers that stand in our way actually make it difficult to live a simple life. Thoreau gives voice to that part of the self that desires, even requires the basics.

“Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.” — Antoine de Saint Exupéry.

“So let us reflect on what is truly of value in life, what gives meaning to our lives and set our priorities on the basis of that”. – Dalai Lama

“What does a simplified life look like? There’s no one answer. While some might go to the extremes of living in a cabin in Alaska or on a tropical island, others find simplicity in a city while working a job with the hectic pace of a stockbroker. The key is to find what matters most to you, and to eliminate as much of the rest as possible.” – Leo Babatua

If you liked this post – please do share…

Simplicity – Honest Good Intention or Sheer Naivety?

Posted on February 4, 2011 by Simpletom

I try to imbue this blog with good intention. My hope is that the result doesn’t come across as too naïve, blithe or insincere.

I am trying to explore simplicity honestly. I’m not testing the concept with the ferocity of some who seeks an immediate truth. I haven’t necessarily pushed the extremes, I’ve merely tickled the edges. Perhaps extreme simplicity is an oxymoron? Or perhaps it is the only way?

Sometimes I feel a fraud. Am I really simplifying, or is it just an excuse to take things easy?

Our paths to simplicity and understanding are our own. As Thoreau said, “I would not have anyone adopt my mode of living on my account… I would have each one be very careful to find out and pursue his own way”.

As I wrote recently, simplicity isn’t always easy. Sometimes I choose the path of least resistance. Sometimes I just have no energy for it at all. Sometimes I have little motive to do anything, regardless of whether it’s simple or complex, important or trivial.

That’s just part of my condition. Some days the yellow fog of nihilism will rub its back upon my window pane… and I find it hard, oh so very hard, to find the fight or the desire to lift myself from this state.

I guess it’s all part of the process. Some might say this kind of angst is actually one of the more important pieces of the process. Although I’m lucky enough not to suffer from depression, I’d say that I’ve known the Black Dog.

I mention this because it’s important that my advice and my musings aren’t misrepresented as an attempt to placate, or pretend.

It helps to write about and share the nihilistic days.

I mention this because too many people who write blogs similar to this are keen to point out all the wonderful things you could be, without always acknowledging the trials and the failings and sometimes, the battle to get out of bed, (Let alone to travel the world, make a million and become a superhuman)

It helps to remember that the nihilistic days, or whichever days serve to overwhelm you, eventually pass. Like a fear of the dark or avoiding morbidness, at their worst they can be all consuming, yet dawn can leave you wondering what all the fuss was about. Even the richest, smartest, prettiest and most influential people suffer.

On this blog, I’ll promise to try not to embellish or pretend. I’ll call things as they are. By doing so, I hope my experiences can be of value.

I truly believe that simplicity is a path to contentment. The better we know ourselves, the better we can be.

How To Prevent Aging – Working Backwards

Posted on December 16, 2010 by Simpletom

“I grow old… I grow old… I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled” – T. S. Elliot

In the last week I’ve had two glimpses into old age:

One was offered by re-reading one of my favourite books of all time – Any Human Heart by William Boyd. In the book, Boyd tracks the entire life of Logan Mountstuart and writes the latter sections of the book magestically, in which Logan ages.

The second is I’ve had a bad flu, akin to the swine flu I picked up last year. Fortunately, despite what the band the Verve might claim, the drugs do work and they make things better. Much better. However, for a few days I felt old. Everything ached and standing wasn’t much fun, so I was bedridden.

Growing old happens to everyone who isn’t struck down prematurely by tragedy. As such, for most growing old is a preference. In some countries, like Ladakh, or Kenya it is respected. In others, sadly we start to loose our respect for others as their faculties diminish.

I imagine it’s hugely humbling, getting old. Even the greatest leader, the fiercest fighter, the most indefatigable hero can be reduced to needing care from others for the most basic things.

Yet the perspective from our elders can help us that are young to understand what’s most important, IF we’re willing to listen. It can give us a vantage on some of the follies of life. A poem I quoted earlier on this blog indicates that the experience of age helps us pick out the more important aspects of living. Here is a similar poem, again posted earlier, which includes some more of my musings about the wonder of old age. Although I’ve just noticed that if you read the two poems more closely you’ll notice that plagiarism might not something that diminishes with age!

As we get older our priorities change. Here’s a passage from Julian Barnes’s Nothing To Be Frightened Of which exalts the finesse that age can bring:

“There is something infinitely touching when an artist, in old age, takes on simplicity. The artist is saying: display and bravura are tricks for the young, and yes, showing off is part of ambition; but now that we are old, let us have the confidence to speak simply. For the religious, this might mean becoming a child again in order to enter heaven; for the artist, it means becoming wise enough, and calm enough not to hide. Do you need all those extravagances in the score, all those marks on the canvas, all those exuberant adjectives? This is not just humility in the face of eternity, it is also that it takes a lifetime to see, and say, simple things” (p189)

Musing on age can help us. What memories would you like to be able to reminisce on when you’re older? Would you prefer a massive pension and a large house, or a close family, friends around you and a sense of community?

Money can buy you excellent care, but it can’t buy you love and affection, unless Anna Nicole Smith is in your sights. And even then, it might not be your mind and body that are in hers.

It’s worth musing on old age and death more often than we do. It might be worth spending some more time with old people and ask them about their priorities, what they would do differently and for their advice.

Thinking about our demise doesn’t have to be morbid. In fact, it might help keep you alive.

“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time” – Mark Twain

Better still: I want to die in my sleep like my grandfather… Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car. – Will Shriner

The Most Valuable ‘Self-Help’ Course Ever (Yet It’s Free) – Vipassana

Posted on August 24, 2009 by Simpletom

meditation

Earlier this year I did a 10-day Vipassana silent meditation retreat and wrote a blog post on Bright Green Talent, which I wanted to share again, because even 6 months on, it continues to have a powerful effect on the way I think:

Vipassana one of those things that I was a little coy about beforehand – after all, people have all sorts of predisposed ideas about meditation, retreats and talk of spirituality. Strange that – why are people wary of engaging in activities of self-exploration? What is it that relegates even the most balanced of people into the ‘wafty’ box when they embark on such wholesome, secular ventures as yoga or meditation?

Vipassana has a fascinating setup – it is a charity that ONLY takes donations from people who’ve completed a 10-day course. This ‘try before you donate’ indicates the benefit the course brings to those who attend. It would be like going to a restaurant and voluntarily paying for what you thought the meal was worth, or a shoe company asking people to pay for their shoes after you’ve worn them for a month.

Armed with this information, as well as positive reports from books and friends, I ventured off to Hereford for this course. With wake-up gongs at 4am, 11 hours of silent meditation a day, and little personal experience, I will admit to a great deal of trepidation.

What can I say? It was one of the most difficult things I have ever done… and one of the most rewarding. When faced with nothing but your own mind for stimulation for 10 days, you are forced to accelerate through the peaks and troughs of emotion at a fearsome rate. The 10 days seem like a small lifetime: Next to me, a 20 veteran of the Greek army shed tears and a number of people quit. Perhaps stubbornness saw me to the finishing line. Some participants had attended up to 8 times previously and each, when we were finally allowed to talk on the final day, informed me that it never gets any easier.

I won’t say much more about the feelings, thoughts or sensations experienced. I’ll leave that for you to pluck up the courage and go and try it yourself. What I will say is that I will be going back in the future. It’s a lot of holiday used up in one go, yet 100,000 people a year benefit in indescribable ways and bring a newfound knowledge and peace back to their everyday lives. And if I were a little more dictatorial and in the position to do so, I would force everyone on one… after all, the world (and the environment) would benefit no end from people getting to know themselves a little better.

Simpletom

Explorations of simplicity and simple living

Category Archives: Spiritual