Meditation: On Simplicity, Continued

(Image credit: Apartment Therapy)
by Piotr Sommer
Nothing will be the same as it was,
even enjoying the same things
won’t be the same. Our sorrows
will differ one from the other and we
will differ one from the other 
     in our worries. 

Is my life simple or not? Recent threads (along with watching Al Gore rock Apple Keynote in An Inconvenient Truth, a film about how nothing will be the same as it was) have got me wondering.

This weekend I spent time with friends, eating a perfect, inexpensive meal at Thai Son on Baxter and complex desserts at Time 4 Dessert (standouts: earl grey panna cotta, beet sorbet, pistachio financier). After that, we walked over to the park on Christie Street and threw tops and made chalk drawings with some neighborhood kids. The next day, I spent about ten bucks on some nice fresh beets, shiso, fingerlings, sour cherries, and scamps at the Union Square farmer’s market, and then $800 on a Miralux mattress at Sleepy’s. I squandered the rest of the day wondering if that was okay, since the perfectly comfortable Simmons was on sale for $350. E. points out that if I only keep the mattress two years, it’s cheaper than the Starbuck’s grande drip I enjoy guiltlessly most every day, but I fear I’ve fallen victim to the paradox of choice, a paradox most of the world’s population never has the the luxury of facing.

In the grandiosity of my teenage years, my mother’s expressed ambition–to leave the world a little better than she found it–seemed too small to me, too plebian. Now it seems almost too tall an order. I guess that’s progress.

photo credit: dulcelife