Does size matter? I have been asking myself this question quite a bit recently in respect to my life. As i get older, I have started to value the small, simple pleasures of life so much more. Things like, not only going to the farmer’s market on a Saturday, but walking to the farmer’s market and buying my groceries for the week there. Or getting coffee with friends in a for-here mug instead of a to-go cup feels like a special ritual. I used to love having a packed day. Now quiet mornings at home where the day unfolds slowly and casually feel idyllic. Basically I’ve become the pure embodiment of a mature lady, cottage witch, forest philosophy Pinterest post, complete with a preoccupation with anti-inflammatory spices and a desire to lower my cortisol levels.

Marketing and stereotypes aside, I wonder if there is still something to be said for enjoying those small moments, in valuing my life being a little slower, undeniably simpler. And that makes me wonder, is this a byproduct of wisdom or simply age? Could an actively simpler life be the product of honing our focus and not, as I initially feared, simply because we are more tired? Does this feel good because being content with a simple, unharried life is actually what brings us the most joy, or is that just what we tell ourselves when we are done fighting?

When I was young, I wanted to take on the world. Everything, all of it. My idols were Catherine of Aragorn, Mother Teresa and Nelson Mandela. My ideal was to be a powerful, independent woman not bowing to limitations, finding injustice with quiet, pious extremism. I was going to change the world with my love, with my sheer force of will, with my singular me-ness.

Now I am a mother and a physician and theoretically my life may be half over. I have seen suffering and I have seen the world through the eyes of my daughter, through the eyes of children. My gaze and my purpose have shifted. Looking back over the years, I realize everything changed the moment I knew I was carrying my daughter. I did still want to make the world better…for her. I believe in that moment and since, my world has simultaneously become smaller and more focused.

As a mother and a scientist, I started to educate myself and care more for the environment, the natural world, the planet. My heroes became women and men who focused on their character and who they wanted to become more than just where they were going; leaders like Diane Von Furstenberg, Desmond Tutu, Dolly Parton and Jane Goodall. They were transforming the culture around them through their personal experience, their vision of themselves in the world, and their love for those around them. They all eventually had a global impact, but they also all started small, within their sphere of influence. As I write this, I have a sudden and intense rush of gratitude that Diane Von Furstenberg is still alive, as I have lost many heroes in just a few short years.

Perhaps this is a beautiful, natural if almost imperceptible shift. Perhaps my husband is right and we actually do more good when we each devote our time and attention to where our spheres of interest and our spheres of influence overlap. As we grow in to full adulthood we have more agency and more tangible ways to effect change. When we are young and angry, we can be a powerful force but sometimes directing that righteous indignation everywhere and at everything diminishes the impact. Or perhaps my world is just shrinking, and our prehistoric evolutionary brains only allow our tribes to be so large.

Now I am in midlife. I no longer have children living in my home and I have many years yet to work before I retire. Here I am asking myself, should I want more? Should I still want to be a missionary or a martyr? Or is just trying to stay sane until retirement okay? Is less more, or is it just less? I think about the words of Emerson and I can remember how lucky I am that my chosen vocation is fulfilling and meaningful and the vast majority of time, not at odds with my values. We don’t all get to be so lucky or say the same. But my work can be very trying, very demanding, and over the past few years I have come to realize that I will not be able to do it forever.

I have, in these same few years, learned with certainty that simplifying; simplifying your routines, your spaces, your life; is an active process. Much like avoiding drama, it is not passive. It does not work to sit back, remove your hands from the wheel, and expect things to drop off of your plate or not try to pull you in. Building a simpler life requires intention and editing. It requires us to be curators and not simply collectors. Thoreau, who was mentored by Emerson, called us to action with his enthusiastic mantra for life: Simplify, Simplify, Simplify! Simplicity is a noun. To simplify is a verb.

I increasingly find myself staying out of things. I am actively choosing to let some days roll off of me without sending an email or responding. I am seriously considering any “offers” or “opportunities” and actively turning down any commitments that do not meet my personal or professional goals. Much like sleep training or getting in to shape, it’s not a one time act. I am continually examining my life and making edits. Some days I am fully fending off a barrage of activities that would easily eat up my time and my head space. Should I being doing that? Should I have to? Is staying out of some things and mistrusting people bent on fixing things “from the inside” wisdom born of life experience or just cynicism?

I can’t be certain. What I can tell you is I am enjoying my life more by enjoying living with less. I am thinking about working less, appreciating spending less and accumulating less. I am spending less energy trying to keep up or make a name for myself. I think about and cultivate ways to protect and nourish myself so that I can prolong my career and my service to children. I find myself planning for how I will travel more so I can continue to see my daughter and her growing family. I use my little grey cells to contemplate my environmental impact, solar energy, composting, gardening, and where I spend my consumer dollars. I think about where I can walk instead of drive.

And I can’t help but think, I feel better. I feel more at ease, I feel lighter, happier, more myself than at any other time in my life. If that’s a consequence of a smaller life, then I would have to agree that size matters.

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to leave the world a better place, to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson