I speak of moving to a simpler life, one away from the hustle and bustle of the city, one where nature takes her time to unfold countless petals into which I might gaze and through which I might discover yet another vast and meaningful experience wrought of her limitless bounty.  I speak also of throwing away the many things I’ve accumulated in life, the many belongings I once felt I must have in order to be happy.  And I speak of these things with many people, not just here on xenogere.

During one recent conversation with Jenny on this topic, I made a flippant remark that perhaps ’twas age that brought about this change in me.  Only in the past five years have I grown increasingly disgruntled by metropolitan dramas, by concrete jungles, and by hordes of humans taking up far too much space and consuming far too many resources.  Only in the past five years has my respect for, admiration of, and interest in nature grown to overwhelming proportions.  To this she replied with profound wisdom: “You know it’s not age so much as growing sophistication. Simpler can be much more complex and meaningful you know.”

Ne’er have truer words rung in my ears.  Ne’er has such breathtaking insight been proffered in such uncomplicated text.

Much time I’ve spent of late ridding myself of clutter.  Much time I’ve spent of late delving into the recesses of my own passion to find it wanting for more than life has thus far offered.

Why do I wish for a return to simpler things?  If I’ve not explained it well enough by now, perhaps it’s too complicated after all.