Finding Simplicity
"and remember what peace there may be in silence..." (Desiderata)
Simplicity is what I'm looking for. Amidst the noise and haste of modern life, I find myself seeking to go placidly. Maybe it is the world. The view from the news and media is overwhelmingly bleak, surrounded by scandal, war, and technological fear and anxiety.
I'm excited by some of these changes to the world, but the noise has increased. I hear it more in the world.
So I'm noticing I'm searching for another view, not to replace but to complement, to bring balance. Looking to where we're going, I'm searching for moments of simplicity.
Right now, a spurt of hot weather finds me sitting in the garden under a beech tree I planted several years ago, listening to classic movie themes by John Williams, Hans Zimmer and the like, music that takes me to cinematic worlds that have long been part of my life.
I've noticed these days getting excited by older technology that reminds me of simpler times. Gently dialling around an FM radio, amidst the comforting crackle and hiss to find a station. Like the crackle and hiss I'm enjoying on a vinyl record.
A recent purchase, an old portable chess computer from 1985 that still works, has brought me a giddy joy, all the time knowing I can play chess on the phone I'm writing this on now.
As our world finds its way through AI and LLM integration, I want to remind myself of these simpler times. To slow down.
The meditative act of dialling in a radio station, placing the needle on the groove of Bob Dylan's greatest hits to hear the intro to The Times They Are a-Changin'. In a simple way, radio asks little of me. It doesn't ask me to choose from countless songs, albums and bands. It allows me to select a station and simply go along for the ride, with perhaps some interesting turns and stops I haven't encountered before. That takes away some of the decision-making and allows me a respite where I don't always have to do, but sometimes can just be.
Looking Back, Not Staring
I was once told: look back, don't stare.
It reminds me that I can't live in the past. I don't want to. But I know that the past is where I was moulded and formed. It's allowed me a perspective that I like to revisit, a reminder of simplicity amidst the noise and haste of today.
As an ADHDer, I'm at times overwhelmed with the here and now. It's loud and fast. Complex and complicated. There are nuances.
So the enjoyment of the past is soothing, comforting. A recent purchase, a chess computer from a charity shop, brought me a feeling of joy. Its compactness and A2–A4 simplicity provide me with both memories and challenge. Equally, I find myself at times drawn to my Spectrum computer, a retro buy that gave so many memories; the sounds and graphics seem almost primal compared to their modern counterparts.
It's become a special interest: old games, computers, re-reading The Three Investigators, Agatha Christie's Miss Marple, old black-and-white horror, sci-fi, and murder mysteries, many of them available on YouTube. I can sit and lose myself in a simple Basil Rathbone mystery.
When the Mind Gets Busy
These moments that I find myself drawn to help me step back from the complexities of today's world and, in a small way, give a balance between the then and now.
It might sound like avoidance of the present. But I live in the present. Its complexities and advancements help me manage the many elements of my ADHD that overwhelm me, providing tools that support me when the noise detracts from my focus and exhausts me.
My yearning for simplicity is the bridge that tries to draw balance. The cane rod and old fishing reel give me time by a pond where I can slow down. The chess computer challenges me with a more black-and-white choice rather than the multitude of strands my active brain can find and create, allowing an opportunity, all too rare, to focus on the next move that needs to be made. There is a feeling of agency in a simple world where a decision needs to be considered and calculated, but the risks are few.
The Compassion of Simplicity
I've written before about the impact of ADHD. In A Busy Mind, I wrote about elements of racing thoughts, the overwhelm that cognitive overload can cause, and how tasks can remain incomplete, leading to feelings of shame and guilt.
I have to find meaningful ways to rest myself, and that's where the compassion comes in. I need to remember compassion for myself, which is where my special interests, my little hyperfocuses, come into play. They allow me to play, relax, and remind myself of another part of me that isn't the therapist, the husband, the employee, or the dad. They also help me be the therapist, the husband, the employee, and the dad.
They're an embraced part of who I am, who I've been, and who I'm becoming.
These dalliances into a simpler part of my past were also explored in my previous blog, Nostalgianauts: Raiders of a Lost Past, a different exploration of a different kind of past, another part that has helped shape me.
Just Being
This need to reduce complexity in a busy world helps me slow my mind and gives me space to breathe.
Last week I was fortunate to spend a few hours here and there on an old carp pond, waiting and wondering if I could coax a fish. The times when I caught were exhilarating. The times when I watched shadows glide through the water were equally thrilling.
The possibility without the need for inevitability.
I'm back in the garden, and I see the fruits of previous labour. Planting seeds and allowing things to grow wild, I find there's a chaos and a simplicity about our garden. It doesn't serve a specific goal or purpose. It's not carefully cultivated. It's allowed to be.
Within that uncertainty of what's growing and where it's growing, and the freedom to grow as and where it pleases, I'm reminded of the need to sometimes just be instead of just do.
As the birds come to the feeder, I'm reminded that, amidst the uncertainty and unpredictability of the day and the world, moments can be found, and sought out, where I can recognise that very little is being asked of me.
Sincerely Yours, Paul
Transparency Notice
This blog has had AI assistance in formatting. All content has been written and reviewed by the author.