I recently was asked this question and as a person who left a great career after the sixty hour weeks affected my health, it touched home. While I've been living a consciously simple life for twelve years and enjoy the time and freedom to engage in activities that I want to do, which nourish me and which I feel passionate about, I still have a propensity to workaholism. That said,  with my sombrero and Wellness Coach hats on, here are my suggestions:

Create a schedule that includes everything that is important to you - rest and sleep, eating well, exercise, relaxation/spiritual practices, fun, socializing, as well as the tasks you are obligated to. Count the “non-work” items as as important as the others and take the fact that they’re on your list seriously.

Depending on you, what works for you, what you need at this time, the schedule can be loose or tight or somewhere in between. For instance, there may be certain tasks that must be done at specific times: picking someone up, a meeting, taking medications or eating at specific times. Everything else can be fit in between those. Somedays there may be no time-related tasks. On these days, if you feel you can trust yourself to not just do the obligatory tasks or only do the self-care tasks, then you can flow. If you choose a flow day, look at the schedule at the start of and throughout the day to keep in mind what you’ve committed to for that day and check them off as you do them. If flowing is too unstructured for you then you can also schedule everything in. Be literal and keep track of your time. Allow for 15 minutes leeway for unexpected occurrences. Check items off the list as you do them no matter how you choose to structure your day.

I suggest making the list for the next day the night before and really looking at what will be feasible to do of the “non-obligatory” in relation to the “obligatory” items. Some days you may be able to do everything on the list, other days you may have to choose a couple non-negotiable items from your personal self-care list to do.

Another strategy is to do the not obligatory items that are critical to your peace and well-being FIRST, before the other “work”. For instance, start your day with meditation, exercise and instrument practice. Then, no matter how the day progresses, at least you’ll feel good that you did the important basics.

Some days it’s possible to have balance moment to moment - a little work, a little self-care that isn’t “work”. Other days may look like: a chunk of self-care time and then a chunk of work time. Some periods of life are more difficult to balance. During these times try to have a larger perspective view and see the over all balance.

Do your best, not expecting perfection while aiming towards it. Appreciate every little step that shows improvement.​

I offer this from my own experience and from working with coaching clients. I hope it is helpful! I would love to hear your questions and comments. I will read and respond!

When I started living simply, in according to my values, I was shocked to discover there was a movement in the states called Voluntary Simplicity that dealt with the same issues.

I formed a Voluntary Simplicity support group in the city where I lived which lasted over eight years. Now it is twenty-five years later and “Minimalism” has replaced Voluntary Simplicity.

I am not a Minimalist in that I don’t aim to have nothing. The principle we offered and shared in our support group was more about following your heart, discovering who you really are, what you really want and are passionate about - and then have the “things” you need, if any, to support that. There is no judgement about what that passion is. It could be sailing around the world - in which case a large, good quality, safe boat would be idea. That is appropriate, not a bad thing!
All that said, I live simply still, yes. The tools of my trade or passions are my computer, paint, cooking utensils and my electric keyboard/piano. These objects support the graphic design and marketing I do to promote the services and products I offer, the visual art I love to create, the authentic Indian cooking classes I give, and the jazz piano I love learning to play.

I don’t have a TV, nor a car, nor many apps on my cell phone. The way I live continues to serve my value of having time for self-care, reflection, creativity, and connection with nature. These are not just activities I enjoy. They are values and principles I believe are important for healthy conscious living.

I offer this as food for thought, support and inspiration.​

What items are most important for your glee, nourishment and purpose? 

It can be frustrating being around people who mirror issues we have and don't like about ourselves, let alone to admit! Just like with all addictions - as dealt with in the 12 step programs - each person has to hit their own bottom and realize it. Only then can and will they choose to make changes that better serve them and those around them.

For people in this situation I suggest that they keep doing and developing, making time for, the things that represent “stopping and smelling the roses” for them. You can do these things alone, with others, and even invite the person your thinking about in your question. The key and challenge of course, is fully owning just for yourself those activities and the joy and nourishment they bring you. That means, without attachment, need, manipulation to try to “make” (the same as “get” - both of which indicate force or control over) the other do the same for themselves.

Not easy, I know, but the only answer I feel is healthy and truly productive. By being yourself fully, which includes “smelling the roses,” you are living in a good way for you, with just that motivation. Paradoxically, you are then being a model for others to do the same.

This was demonstrated to me years ago.

I was recently asked this question which is a great one, in itself exhibiting awareness. To me, the environmental aspect of a minimalist lifestyle is in a way the most important and is at the heart of the theme. Here's why:

For me and many others who experience discontent with the standard prescribed lifestyle in the States, it is an observation or felt sense that the way of living - especially with so much technology - is out of kilter with a harmonious, respectful relationship with the living world.

The development and rise of technology in the West came from a very mental perspective that sought to control nature and the masses. The craving of the mind to understand, know and in that sense have dominion over life is a strong one. Scientific thinking from the Industrial Age, promises a reality that is fixed. This makes life less scary and uncertain and offers the idea that all that we seemingly can’t control in life could be conquered. Man over “God”.

I have increasingly been receiving questions about living simply lately. When I changed my lifestyle over twenty years ago I was surprised to discover an actual movement based on the ideas and sensibilities I held, called Voluntary Simplicity. Now, Minimalism has taken hold as the trendy term.

I have some issues around the term, as it seems to hit some people as a a lifestyle change requiring unwanted discomfort, poverty, giving up of "stuff" overall perceived as a sacrifice. All of which has negative connotations and seems to be received sometimes as the hammer of justice telling people what they "should" and "must" do. Ouch.

This is not the motivation I wish for people's contemplations about and decisions to let go of their current lifestyles. Yes, I wish for people and western culture as a whole, to wake up and see the harm and disconnect caused by and at the root of the ways of living prescribed in our culture. And of course I would expect this to involve pain. Past that and underneath it, though, is a remembering and reclaiming of ways of living that honor and respect the earth and the natural life cycles and wisdom inherent in its design - of which we are a part. 

While the tearing away from previous decisions and their repercussions could be painful for various reasons, at some point, and hopefully from the start or early on, the vision and feeling of the life one is remembering and going towards, would be overall pleasant and at least inspiring and heart-felt.

​A local woman who has a restaurant came to my authentic Indian cooking class today. When the students went around the circle taking turns introducing themselves and speaking about what the attraction was that brought them to the class, her story surprised me. She shared that she disliked Indian food. She had a particular isue with the spice cumin, that she said made her feel ill. Smelling it was not a problem, but when it was used in dishes she found it overpowering and literally sickening. Another student suggested perhaps she has an allergy to the spice. When she would be visiting her daughter in San Fransisco and they would go to and Indian restaurant, she would bring her own food.
 
We continued talking about cumin for awhile, two participants shared that they love cumin, and one woman shared that in traditional Mexican cuisine, cumin is used often in the north, but not in the south. I agreed with Laura that cumin can be overpowering and told her, “Well, most of today’s recipes happen to feature cumin, and in fact I had planned to give you all a lesson in cumin! Are you open to having any cumin in the food or do we need to make two batches of the dishes?” She said that a little cumin would be all right and the other students agreed to this adjustment.

​We proceeded to the kitchen and I gave a tour of the different stations I had created, one for each dish we were going to prepare. When we arrived at the beet, tomato and cucumber raita station I passed around a small bowl of raw cumin seed for each person to smell. I asked them to hold that smell in their minds. Then I passed around a dish of roasted and ground cumin seeds. The difference between the two was impressive and we passed them around again to really anchor in the smells and the differences. I then explained how to roast cumin and how doing so changed the character of the spice.

​When all the dishes were ready, we spread them on the buffet table and served ourselves. Up on the terrace where we dined with a divine view of the mountains, I asked the students how they were enjoying the meal, if they had a favorite dish. Everyone said the meal was delicious and that they were enjoying it completely. I looked at Laura, wondering how the meal was going down for her, especially as I had added a little extra roasted cumin seed to the kachumber salad at the last moment. I felt a little guilty doing so, but in the name of giving my students a true experience of authentic Indian cuisine, I felt I needed to, as the dish really wouldn’t have it’s unique taste without it. 

​Laura looked at me smiling and reported, “I came to the class disliking Indian food. After this meal, my experience of it has changed. Even with cumin in the dishes I feel fine. The food has gone down well and I feel great!  My stomach isn’t upset at all.  I’m leaving this class with a new opinion of Indian food: I like it a lot!

"And now you know the secret," I beamed. "When you go to an Indian restaurant, ask the waiter to ask the chef whether the cumin in the spice blends have raw or roasted cumin. If raw, you can specifically request that the chef roast the cumin in your dishes."

Laura took this information in, eyes unblinking. "Now I can go to Indian restaurants with my family in San Fransisco and I don’t have to bring my own food!” She proclaimed.
 
Of course Laura’s turnaround was gratifying to me as a teacher: because of the class and what she had learned about how to use cumin, she had a different experience and opinion about the cuisine. Laura had received a gift by coming to the class. But I had received a gift as well: I was surprised that not liking the cuisine she chose to come to the class. How many people would do that? I can’t imagine I would. And what a lesson: by immersing herself in something she didn’t like, she learned, gave herself the chance of a new and different experience, and through her bravery and  openness, emerged liking the very thing she had arrived disdaining.
 
Now there’s food for thought.

​Last night I had a dinner that felt good to my body and that I felt proud of.
It took days and lots of preparation to have this simple, wholesome meal.
 
Last week, I made a new batch of fermented vegetables, which took about three days to ferment to the point of having a tasty, tangy bite due to the freshly squeezed lemon juice, grated garlic and ginger I added.
 
Six days ago, I started soaking my quinoa for fermented quinoa, to which I added some of the brine from the fermented vegetables.

​Four days ago I cooked a batch of bone broth from local, free-range and naturally fed cows.
 
Three days ago I grated a head of cauliflower to have a stash of riced cauliflower to serve as a rice-subsitute bed for vegetable dishes.
 
Two days ago, I ground white and black mustard seeds and let them soak in spring water that I had collected that morning outside my home. Later I added some pineapple vinegar, which I had made in the Fall. I added some organic turmeric and sea salt from the region and soon  had a homemade mustard condiment.

​So last night, I cooked the fermented quinoa in the bone broth. I pan fried a piece of wild caught Alaskan salmon till the skin was crispy and topped it with mustard. 

Salad was local organic red curly leaf lettuce over which I drizzled cold pressed olive oil made regionally, and a sprinkling of freshly ground black pepper and sea salt.

On top of the quinoa, a dollop of fermented vegetables.

For dessert, I put little pieces of pure dark chocolate on top of thick sweet potato slices I had pressure cooked in the morning. Yummy.
 
It all felt good going in and down as I sat on my terrace taking in the golden light slowly turning orange on the mountains. I had been getting all the pieces together for incorporating low lectin foods into the way I eat day by day and all at once, I had the pieces to assemble a nice, simple meal.
 
Proud and satisfied I complimented myself on finally getting my act together. Immediately my smile faded as I cocked my head wondering, “Is this how life is? We work hard for a long time at all the many pieces and then one day, all of a sudden, we have everything prepared and in place for us to be and live how we have been wanting?” I remained at this landing spot for a moment. “Wow, am I there?” I thought, hopefully. I nodded “No.” Experience has shown me there are moments of culmination and perceived “perfection”, where we have a glorious view from where we’ve been climbing and unexpectedly find ourselves. Then, life moves on. Soon it will be cold or dark. Something runs out, goes bad, or we realize new needs that require our work to satisfy.

I got it together for one meal. I’m going to enjoy the view from the mountain while I’m  here. Tomorrow I’ll chop more vegetables for fermenting, roast cocao beans and grind them in a mortar and pestle for chocolate avocado truffles to share with friends, and cook the lentils that are sprouting in a bowl on my counter.

My unconscious woke me up this morning with the song. "Let's Get it Started".
What good, smart, fun, creative and wise inner accompaniment I have.

Followed by "Dialogue" by Chicago. To which I've been dancing, singing, crying, smiling and acting out.

This song rocks and it's words are true.
I urge you to dwell in the positive. What you imagine and project with feeling, happens.

Give it a listen, make your decision, and see how your day and world changes.
I'd love to hear from you, let me know how it goes!
​xxoo

I'm struck by the triviality of my life. The tabs open on my computer when the earthquake hit included: Shopping for a new backpack because the one I have is faded and sags and has some holes. Then, a page that explains something I recall hearing about: using vinegar to wash and disinfect veggies. Finally, how to remove rust stains from clothes. And I think my life is meaningful. 

Such are the concerns of a life with so much abundance and freedom it can spill over into decadence and mis-led energy investments.

When I finally made it out my door in my pink clogs and the ground had stopped shaking I called for my landlady who lives on the same property to know if she was okay. She was fine and wanted to go see what the horrible deep rumble had been, maybe a house had fallen. We went out to the street and neighbors were talking. A house that is being built across the street had cracks in some of the lower adobe bricks. Would they have to start over from scratch, I wondered? The men who had been working on the second floor told about how they couldn't get down for the shaking and wondered if the house would crumble and them with it.

Maria came back minutes later from down the road in the direction of the deep rumble and said that part of the mountain that faces us had broken off. Soon, her sister came crying, holding a plastic cup with a swig of jerez in it, sharing with Maria that their other sister's house had fallen. While Maria went in to get her house keys her sister turned into my arms for an embrace. They went off to see about Rosa's house.

I stood in the middle the street talking to various neighbors, some of whom I did not know, all of us sharing stories and agreeing on the degree of shaking and fright, and realized, "I'm not enough part of the community. I don't know my neighbors. I need to get out more, make more of an effort to interact with the people." In this moment of survival standing at the crossroads I saw: what matters is community and love. That's all.

I went to buy emergency supplies in Inez's tienda, just in case. She showed me where a wall had separated from the ceiling, revealing old timber. Then she told me about the church cupula and how it was damaged. We stood in the doorway together and I noted with sadness the poignantly crooked cross on top of the dome. Behind it, in the distance, la ventana, a sacred natural "window" high on top of the mountain. Inez told me, "All during the earthquake I was worried about our dear ventana, would it be alright?" The ventana  is intact, but in our village and nearby  towns, the poor crosses are eschew. As with all the natural disasters lately, with the crooked crosses it seems blatantly significant. I wonder, "What would it mean to right the crosses in a way that they felt heard, understood and respected? And our dear Earth?"

All my growing up years of being an art student, it was always with the attitude of being a learner, with the acceptance of the unspoken rule that assumes I don't know and the teacher does. This at least sets the stage for openness to receive new information, which is a great thing.

I remember painting class in college with "Foose," enjoying and prospering from being there with "beginners mind". Recently, I've taken up drawing and painting again. My teacher, Bárbara generously offered to come to my house to see the work I've been doing prior to our first class in her studio so that she could see what I'm working on and producing and where and how she might be most helpful to my development.

She considered each piece silently with much consideration and finally would offer some suggestions in a complimentary and respectful way. One of her suggestions had to do with her perception that certain parts of a couple of the paintings stood out in ways that separated them from the rest of the piece. She advised me to lower the tone in these parts so that the colors were more equal in intensity compared to the rest of the piece.

With my background in graphic design, I found this surprising and counter to my training, whose instructions were around the importance of being aware of and creating visual hierarchy in each piece. I told Bárbara this, but she disagreed and I agreed to comply with each of her suggestions - this was "art" after all, not graphic design.