“The secret of contentment is knowing how to enjoy what you have, and to be able to lose all desire for things beyond your reach.”

– Lyn Yutang

Bigger, better, new and improved!  Must-see!  Must-have!  We are bombarded every day with enticements to desire more than we have.  With the media blitz assuring us that happiness is right around the corner for anyone who will purchase the latest version of something we already have, it is easy to become discontented with our lives.  I remember the carefree feeling I had as a child listening to my mom singing as she worked, “The Best Things In Life Are Free.” I really didn’t know much about wanting more than I had, because all my needs were met.  The reassuring words of that song about the moon, the stars, and the flowers all being mine made me notice them and appreciate them and feel like I lived in a wonderful world filled with beautiful things created just for my pleasure.

Life was so simple then; and I think there is wisdom in that sort of simplicity.  I won’t begin to claim that I lead a simple life, but I can relate to the need to dig to the bottom of the heap of things that clutter our lives and our minds and rediscover the simple things that are lasting.  Two weeks ago, I did some attic cleaning.  This week it was time to dig into the bookshelves. As I sorted through years of accumulation, I could remember reading to my children.  I would page through the familiar stories, capture the memories of little ones saying the words long before they could read.  Then I would let the book go, knowing that the memory would remain and that the book should go to another parent and be used to make memories with another child.  I sorted through my own collection as well, deciding to keep only the well-worn friends I knew I would read again and again.  The others could be found at the library if I needed them; and the ones I put into a box for Goodwill would delight another reader who found them for only a quarter.

I realized, as I looked at the pared-down version of my collection that I appreciated the things that remained even more.  No longer are the things I really treasure buried at the bottom of the heap.  It is my hope that as time passes I will be able to relinquish even more of the things I associate with good times and fond memories.  After all, the sentiments they bring to mind are not really attached to the things, but to the people I have loved who shared those things during important times.  When my simplifying is done, I hope to be left only with the things I would pass on to my children as a part of their heritage — Great-Grandma’s vase, Great-Grandpa’s clock, the tiny brass bells passed down by my grandmother, my own music box collection — and, of course, the moon and the stars and the flowers.