Life in the Slow Lane

In the first week in my tenure as interim director of Hillel at Boston University I walked to Best Buy to cruise the Labor Day sale.  Students and parents rushed through the aisles of Best Buys snatching up air conditioners, iPad, TV’s and stereos.  A small microwave oven for $54.00 beckoned me as did a flat screen TV for $189.  But I demurred.  A simpler life beckoned me.

My small one bedroom apartment on Bay State Road is the definition of Spartan functionality.  It has all I need but very little more.  In the days ahead I will return to my well-furnished and provisioned home in Atlanta but here in Boston, life is much simpler. I have two double beds, one love seat, three chairs, two bar stools, two end tables, coffee table and a 6x8 rug.  I have a set of four each of dishes, eating utensils, mugs and glasses.  I have, as of yet only used two of the dishes, one of the bowls and one of the coffee mugs.  Oddly, I have managed without my precious expresso machine.  I have yet to do the laundry, but when I do I will fill my pockets with quarters and trek downstairs to the washer and dryer, which shares a small room with the buildings boiler. 

Everything takes a bit longer.  I make stir fry for dinner.  In the absence of a microwave oven I boil the rice.  Impossibly, it takes 6 minutes rather than one.  There is no dishwasher and so I wash each dish, utensil, pot and glass by hand.  I sweep the small kitchen floor and hand wipe it with a spray cleaner and a small rag.  That deliberate quality of life is pleasant; perhaps, functionally meditative; slow down, embrace the quieter moments. 

Without a Boston-based car, I walk everywhere.  Trader Joe’s is a 20 minute stroll as is Whole Foods.  The walk over is pleasant.  The returning walk with hands filled with groceries a bit less so. The dry cleaner is four blocks, the drug store six.  My commute to Hillel is a 10 minute walk.  I discovered that my iPhone is tracking my steps and I am averaging about 12,000 a day – about 4 miles. 

I sit on a park bench along the Charles River and watch sleek shells with determined rowers glide by.  I walk along Beacon Street admiring the beautiful Victorian era row houses.  I rent a bicycle and pedal to Harvard Square buy a used book and read while sipping coffee.  After a long, difficult day at work I grab a bottle of light beer, head into the bedroom (the only air conditioned room in the apartment) sit on an old office chair, place my feet on the bed, my computer on my laps and watch a movie on Netflix on the 14 inch screen.  It seems overly indulgent.

Perhaps the simpler life will get old soon.  I will long for the convenience of a microwave; the comfort of the full size leather sofa in my den, the convenience of a car and the mindless pleasure of a large flat screen TV.  But a quieter, simpler life has its pleasures.  These pleasures are all in the moment – and none are taken for granted.  It seems to me that is a core message for Rosh Hashanah; enjoy life in the moment for the simple pleasures it offers.  In the absence of the layers of possessions that surround us we become more attuned to gentle joys of God’s creation; trees, a soft breeze, new and old friends, our loved ones.  Among those great pleasure is our own journeys of thought, imagination and wonder.  Today is the birthday of the world, enjoy.