Earlier this week when I was on the bus, I sat across from a girl who seemed to epitomize calm, the kind of calm I hope to grasp myself someday. Impeccably dressed in a seersucker blazer, denim floods, and fancy grey suede flats, every detail was in place, from her stylish aviator sunglasses to the leather watch on her wrist. She was unencumbered by clutter, with a small leather purse slung across her body, and she was filling out the New York Times crossword puzzle thoughtfully. I noticed that the bright red nail polish on her fingernails was slightly chipped and uneven, something she didn’t seem to mind. She gave off an air of contentment with herself and full commitment to what she was doing in that moment.
I, on the other hand, was an uncomfortable mess of clutter, wearing a backpack, with a small fitness bag and yoga mat slung over both shoulders, a large water bottle in hand and my phone shoved into my front jeans pocket. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to be thinking of the Bikram yoga class I would be taking that night (and what I had with me was essential to that activity), but part of me longed to be that girl, seemingly without a care in the world except for that New York Times crossword puzzle.
Someday I hope to achieve such a minimalist approach to life. Until then, I’m taking it one step at a time to get there.