Keep It Simple

2. Less is more.

This is such an obvious principle - and so many people refuse to recognize it. I plead guilty myself. Back in 1990, I decided that I had to reduce the clutter in my life, that I had to simplify my household obligations. My first instinct was to get more help. We had a housecleaner who worried about maintaining the place, a gardener who worried about the grounds, a bookkeeper who worried about our finances. I wanted to hire a cook, so I wouldn't have to worry about meals. My husband thought I was crazy: "You already spend so much time managing the housecleaner, the gardener, and the bookkeeper. Now you want to manage a cook?"

He was right. I didn't need more help. I needed fewer problems. That's when we began the process of simplifying. We got rid of possessions that we didn't use but that took up space. We moved into a smaller home. We made changes in our social lives, our volunteer schedules, our finances, and eventually our careers. The less we took on, the more time we created.

The same principle applies at work. Once I decided to simplify my life, one of the first things I did was to cut back my workday by 10%. I scheduled my 10-hour day to end an hour earlier. What happened? My overall production didn't go down - and I had created 5 extra hours a week. Gradually I cut back another hour a day. Again, I suffered virtually no loss of production - but had a tremendous increase in satisfaction. I changed how I worked, not how much work I got done. I didn't return every phone call the moment I got the message. I didn't attend every meeting to which I was invited. I doubled the amount of time that I estimated projects would take and worked according to new, more realistic schedules.

It was a vivid example of the less-is-more principle. I was working fewer hours, but I was bringing more of myself to the work. My husband and I estimate that we've each created an extra 30 hours per week. It's hard to put a price tag on that much time.

3. Just say no.

The playwright Jules Renard wrote, "The truly free man is he who can decline a dinner invitation without giving an excuse." By that definition, few of us are free. That's a problem. You can't lead a simple life if you can't say no.

No one can maintain more than three priorities. If you have a job you care about, that's a priority. If you have a family, that's a priority. Which leaves one more. Maybe it's staying in shape, maybe it's volunteering at your church - but that's it. Most people understand this intuitively. But they keep overcommitting themselves and overcomplicating their lives.

It goes back to Renard: In our high-achievement culture, people feel they need a reason to say no to a new assignment, an all-day meeting, a dinner invitation. Which is why you have to help yourself say no. At work, sit down with your schedule at the beginning of every month and block out time for "me." Treat this time as if it's just as important as any other item. Then, when someone invites you to a meeting that you don't want to attend, you can say, "I'm sorry, I'm booked." Outside the office, learn to be more honest. If someone asks you to join a volunteer group, be blunt: "I'm not taking on any new commitments for the next six months."

It's hard at first. But the more you say no, the easier it gets. And the more you say no, the less people will ask you in the first place. People don't ask me for anything now. So my advice is simple: Figure out what your priorities are, and say no to everything else.

4. Possessions are nine-tenths of the problem.

Thirty years ago, most homes probably had one radio and one television. Today more and more homes have a radio and TV in every room, a telephone in every room, fax machines - the list goes on. But precisely because we want to have all this "stuff," we work longer to pay for it. Which leaves us less time to enjoy what we worked so hard to buy. And stuff doesn't just cost money. It also takes up time - for all that installing, fixing, maintaining, listening, and watching. And what does everyone say they really want? More time! The irony is so profound.

That's why I urge people to go through the house once a year and get rid of everything they haven't used in the previous 12 months. I'm not talking about beautiful antiques or keepsakes with sentimental value. I'm talking about the stuff we buy that doesn't add to the fullness of our lives.

Better yet, don't acquire stuff in the first place. One technique that we use is the 30-day list. When we discover some product that we just must have, we put it on a list and wait. Then, at the end of 30 days, we ask a question: Do we still need it? More often than not, we can't remember why we were so excited in the first place. Now, there's a difference between simplicity and austerity. I don't want to lead an austere life. But too much is just that - too much.

5. What really matters is . . . what really matters.