Adapting to Simplicity

I love simplicity, but it took writing about it to make me realize that living simply takes getting used to.

Even though I have always been a homebody, I went out more in Singapore because I worked, shopped with my sister, and met up with friends. Here, the only time I’m out is when I’m shopping for groceries.

My partner and I don’t go out much. He has fibromyalgia. It causes him a lot of pain so he prefers to be home. Since I can’t work until I get the right papers, I don’t want to spend money making trips into town too. Transportation alone costs $15.50 ($5.25/regional rail ticket x 2 + $2.50/bus ride x 2)! Besides, I don’t enjoy wandering alone.

To make matters trickier, we both can’t drive because of anxiety issues. So we’re home almost all the time.

If you told me a year ago that I’ll be home all the time, I’d have told you I’ll be perfectly happy because I’m extremely introverted. The truth is, I’m happy, but not perfectly happy. Far from it.

Misplaced disappointment

I miss the mobility I enjoy back home where public transportation is extremely efficient because the country is so small. It’s also more affordable and obviously, familiar. Here, we have to rely on John’s mom to take us to some places.

I also hate feeling like I’m not being “capable” because I’m not exploring the new city I found myself in. If I was back in Singapore, the chance to explore Philadelphia would’ve spurred me to do tonnes of research about places to go and how to get there. Now that I’m here, my own disposition traps me.

So I disappointed myself by not doing more and felt like a loser for not going out. How silly is that? The truth is, I’m perfectly capable of figuring out directions with the help of Google maps, I’m simply not the type who enjoys traveling alone. And that’s perfectly okay. After all, I have struggled with social anxiety for years.

As I figured my thoughts and behavior out, I realized that this is also part of learning to live simply. I was so caught up by expectations, both societal and my own, and a sense of insecurity that I couldn’t see it.

A look back on 9 months in a new country

With the revelation, I looked back on my 9 months here. Life has taken on a much simpler quality. I have been doing creative things again – something I haven’t been able to do since I was a teenager with holiday breaks and little distractions.

We hardly eat out as I cook most of our meals – it’s both cheaper and healthier. I used to crave the exciting food my friends post on their Instagram accounts – Singapore is a foodie haven – but lately, that craving has settled.

I have always been able to live without a lot of frivolous things, but I’ve never lived as simply as I had for the past 9 months. For now, my days are open and unknown, though the basics are there – breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I never know what I’m going to do, what time I’m taking my shower, or what time I’m going to bed. I do whatever comes to my mind, if my hand picks up my crochet hook, I crochet, if they land on the keyboard, I write, if it picks up my brush pen, I practice lettering. It’s a privilege to be able to enjoy this lull period.

So much of our lifestyles consist of habits and distractions. I was essentially kicking the old habit of “consuming to distract”, and the discomfort that came from being homebound was part of the process. These days, I’m replacing consumption with creation. My days are simple but full and enjoyable.

Once I let go of my misplaced disappointment in myself, I saw how my new lifestyle is better for me.

Moving on

It is still surprisingly difficult at times because old thought patterns will surface, and I’ll feel like there are other things I should be doing, things regular people do. But it’s just societal expectations imprinted in my consciousness.

I also worry about the future, money, and parental expectations. Seeing my friends get more successful in their careers makes me feel juvenile in my pursuit for a life genuine to myself.

Altogether, these social expectations and worries form obstacles that prevent me from appreciating my newfound simple life.

I need to stand my ground and face these fears. I need to remember why I’m doing this. The next step would be harder than this one. But at least I’m learning to live simply.