I spent today prayerfully preparing to participate in Saturday’s Women’s March on Washington by being silent—reading, praying, writing, sitting in the mystery. I even cancelled an evening obligation. The march will be noisy, with elbow to elbow human beings, and complex logistics. No silence, solitude and simplicity.
     Although our demeanor will vary, we will all gather under the umbrella of full respect, opportunity and protection for every human being. My goal is to be a positive, prayerful presence, which means that I must do my best not to step into the political rhetoric and critique. By abstaining from reading or listened to the news in the past two months, I have put myself on the fringe of any serious discussion of the issues. And that, helps me be a positive, prayerful presence.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. (“The Serenity Prayer”)
Whether you consider yourself religious, spiritual but not religious, agnostic, atheist, or something else, I trust that the Serenity Prayer speaks to you today. This is all I have to say of this election morning.

Today I’m concentrating on concentrating; a challenge for me. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) came into being when I first started teaching in the early 1970s, and was a full-fledged phenomenon when I retired in 1996. I was never attentive to it, and now I know why. I was ADHD myself, but since I seemed to know how to maneuver around it without much harm to myself of others, I was NEVER aware of it. I understood, however, the kids who were in perpetual physical and mental motion. (Right now as I write I keep stopping to gaze about, sip my cappucchino, and think about what I will do when I leave this café.) I was also in awe of the students who stuck to a task for long periods of time. And so, with this new insight, accompanied by intense effort, I am trying to stick to the task of writing this paragraph without distraction. It is a challenge.
Living in Florence for these two weeks offers the perfect opportunity for me to practice concentrating. Concentrating on what? After all I do concentrate. The problem is that I concentrate on many, many, many things, all within a very, very, very short time span. However, concentrating on one task for an extended period of time, until I complete it, is very difficult--be it writing, walking the streets, visiting museums. I want to be in the Now, to use Eckart Tolle’s term. I am reminded of his comment that he spent two years sitting on a park bench just being present to what was going on around him. Really!!
Hmm, I am amazed at all I accomplish, and I wonder what my life would be like if I concentrated more consistently on one thing at a time. Just think of all what I could achieve! But maybe I’d lose my enthusiasm, my uniqueness, whatever that is. I believe, however, that I would gain something of worth. What? More time, time to write, read, pray, walk, sit in the mystery. More presence, presence with myself, friends, God.
In Florence I am aware of local artists who must be concentrating to produce their work. Maybe the have ADHD, maybe they have unwavering concentration, like native-son Michelangelo.Regardless of where any of us find ourselves on the concentration continuum, we do our best to make meaning. That’s what the NOW is about.

As I mentioned, just the other day but also since the beginning of this blog over six years ago, I very much want to live more in the present, in the NOW. Although it has been two steps forward, eight back, five forward, and on and on, I now believe I am ahead of where I started. This trip particularly feels that way as I settle into living my life, my life right now, here in Florence for the next twelve days.
      Practicing living here, if only for a short time, includes routines that I have at home. Let’s start with sleeping. Last night’s twelve hours caught me up on my jetlag; I slept until 8:30 but beginning tonight I am back to going to bed and getting up early. Then there is the prayer and meditation in my favorite churches. I walk more in Florence than another time or place in my entire life-to my favorite museums, churches, gardens and restaurants, and just to wander about, observing and being in the moment. As far as reading, writing and some eating go, this apartment is comfy just like home, and with the added touch of a violin serenade by a street musician four floors below.
       I just finished my lunch. I am going to post this NOW and then go off for my afternoon walk, probably to the Boboli Gardens. It is warm and sunny so I’d better seize the day. I’ll post some photos later, and another day I’ll show you the apartment. Being me NOW means that I don’t stay sedentary for very long. Ciao.

     I have in my hands from the library Duane Elgin’s book, “Promise Ahead: A Vision of Hope and Action for Humanity’s Future,” copyright 2000. In it he writes at length about voluntary simplicity, which was the title of his best selling classic in 1981. As you can imagine, it is the voluntary simplicity that has captured my interest.
     Elgin claims that living a simple life doesn’t mean just getting rid of material possession, although that can be an important component, but of living a life of ‘greater sanity and soulfulness’. “Simplicity is not about a life of poverty, but about a life of purpose.”
     I’m intrigued that it has taken that simple statement for me to integrate what I have been trying to articulate every since I started this blog in November 2009. Until now I have thought of simplicity as whatever is easy; but no, it is more complex than that. Striving for simplicity is about getting rid of whatever is in the way of one’s life purpose.
     Let’ face it, possessions get in the way. Physically, just think of the buying and putting away, the cleaning and fixing, and the decisions, such as which sweater to wear to the party, or which dish for the salted nuts. Emotionally, possessions generate guilt: the abuse of the environment; the sub-standard wages of workers; and the answer to the question of who could benefit from the money I have just spent on things I don’t need.
     I think about my life purpose all the time. Seriously, I am continually yearning and striving for a meaningful life. Oh, I keep falling, but I pick myself up, or more likely get picked up, and continue on. Years ago I came up with a mission statement, which continues to this day to be spot on for me. My mission is to inspire, affirm, and encourage others to find happiness and peace. When I live into it, I, too, find happiness and peace.
     Lately all our stuff feels burdensome. Not because of the guilt associated with material possessions, but because of the mental concern that as my husband and I get older, we need to get rid of stuff in preparation to downsizing or dying. However, it is not about future time, but about NOW. I don’t want to spend the NOW cleaning or clearing; I don’t want these aging years of my life, while I am still healthy, preparing for future years. Voluntary simplicity is about NOW.
• Voluntary simplicity for me means simplicity of thought concerning possessions.
• Voluntary simplicity for me means praying, meditating, walking, writing, reading, knitting, visiting, being with family and friends, and doing jigsaw puzzles.
• Voluntary simplicity for me means living in solitude, silence and simplicity.
• Voluntary simplicity for me means living my purpose.

Today...this moment. Sun is shining after rain this morning when I went out to get the paper at 5:30. I have made brownies to take to Vermont to give to the men who are going to help load a U-Haul with my friend’s things. My husband is going to drive the U-Haul. The things will be stored in our barn for a month. Our friend’s husband died in October. We are sad but very grateful to help. Our friend is strong. That is how it is, living NOW, in the moment, this moment.

As I’ve mentioned several times, I’m not much into following the news. Sure, maybe I just want to avoid all the sad stuff and live in bliss. My serious reason for staying away from the news, however, has to do with how I choose to spend my time, both physical and psychic. There are just so many hours in the day; my brain can take on just so many thoughts and ideas. I try to spend my time and energy doing some kind of good in the world. A news reporter, I am not. Generally speaking, the news doesn’t support my longing for silence, solitude and simplicity.

     The girls abducted in Nigeria, nevertheless, have my attention. I’m reading about them and turning on the TV to try to understand and be informed. I can’t experience silence, solitude or simplicity if I ignore them. It’s as simple as that.

What if every woman (and man) in the world started praying for the women abducted by Muslims of Boko Haram, the Nigerian terrorist network?

      At church this morning we were given a little piece of paper with the name of one of the women. Actually, I took three: two with names, Falta and Saratu, and one with ‘Child of God, name unknown’. There has been some concern about privacy in publishing the names—I guess I can understand, well a little. But I am particularly sad for the nameless women, nameless not but not soulless.

     That got me thinking about the world-wide prayer idea. Don’t get hung up on the word prayer; substitute your own word or phrase--send positive energy, think positive thoughts, meditate. You know what feels comfortable to you. Just do it.

On last morning in Florence, before leaving the keys on the table and shutting the apartment door, and before pulling my suitcase along the bumpy streets to the station to get the 7:20 bus to the airport, I took a brief farewell walk to Ponte Trinita and Ponte Vecchio. Morning has always been my best time; early morning is solitude’s moment. But even at 6:30, I wasn’t the only one out there along the Arno. Early morning is a time of solitude for runners, street cleaners, delivery people, and pigeons.

     Now I am home, waking up too early even for a morning person. Jetlag finds me awake while it is still dark. But soon the light comes and I find that it is beautiful here too. Early morning, be it in Florence or home, is solitude’s moment.