Embracing Simplicity--Spoken Word Given by Lloyd D. Newell

Embracing Simplicity

Delivered By: Lloyd D. Newell

A family gathers for dinner, and the father announces a new rule of etiquette: “No texting at the table.” Two teenagers sigh and reluctantly set aside their cell phones. Such a rule was not needed just a few years ago, but we live in a different world now. A steady stream of information swirls around us, not only from television, movies, and magazines but also from hundreds of computerized gadgets, some small enough to fit in our pocket. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed—and sometimes as outdated as a computer purchased last year. Many despair at ever catching up with the current technology, never mind what’s coming in the future. But chasing technology is not the best way to embrace the future—or the present. Plentiful information is good, but epiphanies of wisdom, original ideas, and communion with the divine are most likely to come during moments of quiet calm. Without them, we become like mice in a maze, constantly racing back and forth for the next piece of cheese. Pianist and composer Reid Nibley learned about the value of simplicity while writing the hymn “I Know My Father Lives.” The music came to him quickly, but, he said, “I thought it was too simple, so I began working on it. It became more and more complicated and less and less spontaneous. After two weeks of struggling with it, I began to erase all the excess notes, and soon it emerged in its original form.” Of the finished product he said, “It is the most worthwhile thing I have ever done.”1 Its simplicity is its beauty. The same is true of our lives. What might happen if we set aside the gadgets and tumult of the world, for just a few moments every day, and enjoy the peace that comes with simplicity? It would help us keep our goals in perspective, be more positive toward those around us, and grow nobler instead of just busier. And then, as with the hymn, our simplicity can be our greatness. 1 In Karen Lynn Davidson, Our Latter-day Hymns: The Stories and the Messages (1988), 304. Program #4157