Goal of the day: 185 words. Written: 273. Photo author: Vi Kontrimaitė
What do emperors, programmers and truck drivers have in common?
Is it the fact that some of them are famous? Or is it that they are at least a little successful? Or is it that their deeds and actions are remembered now? Or is it that I, as a writer, choose them as examples at the very beginning of the book? Or is it that they are likely to have lived their lives at least moderately, if not very, happy?
Well, these things can be argued. But success is hard to define, and so is notoriety. Not everyone in the world knows these people.
But there is something I haven't mentioned yet.
It's simplicity.
In one or other (or more often several at once) areas of their lives, these people were guided by the principles of simplicity.
Although they were not monks or total hermits (except you, Monk, who sold Ferarri) and did not give up everything in succession, even a partial application of the Principles of Simplicity was enough to make them Extraordinary, and to ensure that their works were not forgotten.
They have done what many people fear. They were afraid in Seneca's time, and they are still afraid now. Especially now, when all the companies that are not interested are urging people to buy, do, pursue and be distracted wherever others want.
They have chosen what, to the untrained and unknowing eye, may look like a void. Something that can evoke a feeling of coldness or even outright fear. Something that scares or perhaps looks dull.
They did what may seem unusual and won.
How is it possible to live happily with less? Less goals, less meaning, less things, less friends, less acquaintances, less self-help books, less endless articles in the Cloud, in Lietuvos Rytas and other "necessary" portals?
How simplicity can be so life-changing,
if it seems so foreign?
Let me answer these questions. And let's start with the simplest, easiest and purest beginning. With the 'what' and the 'why'.
(To be continued tomorrow.)
It's about simplicity again,
Daniel