TheArtofLivgSiply
理查德·沃克尔默/RichardWolkoir
WepaddleddownMae’sSaRiverthatSepteberafternoon，fiveuplesoes，baskgthesur’sstgoldensunlight.Grazgdeer，fttergtheirwhitetails，watchedourflotilpass.Thatevechedtents，broiledsteaksandsprawledaroundthecapfire，stargsleepilyatthestars.Onean，strughisguitar，sanganoldShakersong：“Tisthegifttobesiple.Tisthegifttobefree.”
Ouridyllended，ofurse，andwedrovebacktotheworldofloanpaynts，jobsandcloggedwashgaches.“Tisthegifttobesiple，”Ifoundyselfhugatoddonts，“Tisthegifttobefree.”HowIlongedforthatsiplicity.ButwhereuldIfdit？
“Ourlifeisfritteredawaybydetail.Siplify，siplify.”ThatdictuofHenryDavidThoreau’s，echogfrothedaysofsteaboatsandox-drawnplows，hadlonghunted.YetThoreauhiselfwasabletospendonlyoyearsthecabhebuiltbesideWaldenPond.AndHenry—wifeless，childless，jobless—neverhadtotslewithsuchdetailsasvariable-ratees.
Mylifeattracteddetail，asifyottowere：“Coplicate，plicate.”AndI’vefoundI’notalone.Butonedayythkgaboutsiplicityturnedupsidedown.
IwasvisitgaphysicisthisofficetowerjuttgfrohisIlloisfarnds.Welookedthroughhisdowattheboratory’siles—aroundpartiiststostudynditionslikethoseshortlyafterCreation’sfirstont.Theuniversewassiplertheed，aredperhapsonlyonekdoffordonekdofparticle.Nowithasanykdsofforces，sresofdifferentparticles，andntaseverythgfrostarsandgaxiestodandelions，elephantsandthepoesofKeats.
Coplexity，Ibegantoseefrothattower，ispartofGod’spn.
Deepdown，wesehatwespeak，disparaggly，ofa“sipleton”.Nobodywantstobeguiltyof“siplistic”thkg.
Butbldgourselvestoplexitybedangero.OnceIboughtaho.IlikeditssettgsouchIunnsciolyavoidedprobgtoitspossibledefects.Afteritwase，Ifounditneededsuti，anewheatgsyste，newdows，anewsepticsyste—everythg.Thatoldhoebealbatross，stgfarorethanIuldafford，theststresswasevenhigher，Ihadrefedtolookattheplexities.
Evenordaryfancesarerarelysiple—whatdoesyoursurancepolicyactuallyver？Yet，enoicsaresiplicityitselfparedwithoralquestions.
OernoonwhenIwasten，Ifoundyselftheleaderofanafter-schoolgaggleofboys.Ihadtodivertthequickly，Iknew，orycareerasleaderwouldbebrief.AndthenIsawJoe.
JoewasanEiffelTowerofakid，ancipientgiant.HisfailyhadeigratedfroEurope，andhehadafataent.
“Let’sgethi！”Isaid.
MylittletroopofGothsswarduponJoe.Sobodysnatchedhishatandwepyedcatchwithit.Joeranho，andItookhishatasatrophy.
Thatnight，ourdoorbellrang.Joe’sfather，aworried-lookgfarrwithathickaent，askedforJoe’shat.Iretursheepishly.“Pleasedon’tupsetJoe，”hesaidearly.“Hehasastha.Whenhehasanattack，itishardforhitogetbetter.”
Ifeltaleadsoftballychest.TheevengIwalkedtoJoe’shoe.Hewasthegarden，tillgthesoil，hewatchedwarilyasIwalkedup.IaskedifIuldhelp.“Okay，”hesaid.AfterthatIwentoftentohelphiandwebecabestfriends.
Ihadtakenasteptowardadulthood.InsideyselfIhadseenpossibilities，likeatangleofwires.Thisredwirewasthepossibilityforevil，whichrequiresnoorethanignanother’spa.Andherewasthewhitewireofsypathy.Iuldhaveahandgallthosewires—itwasaatterofthedecisionsIade.Ihaddisveredplexity，andfounditanopportunitytochoose，togrow.Itspriceisresponsibility.