I first heard the old Shaker song, Simple Gifts, at a wedding that I attended on June 21, 1981 in Durham, North Carolina. On this date, the first day of the summer, a mature couple with whom I am friends renewed their marriage vows.

Here are the verses:

'Tis a gift to be simple; 'tis a gift to be free; 'Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be. And when we find ourselves in the place just right, Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained, To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed; To turn, turn will be our delight, Till by turning, turning, we come 'round right.

The day of that wedding was an exceptionally beautiful summer day. I remember so well the brilliant, blue sky and balmy air fragrant with the scent of rose and iris. The wedding was held outside in the couple’s back yard, and was filled with so many good friends.

The day in itself was memorable for me, as I do not recall being in the presence of so many close friends ever again. Yet, that duet with those simple, beautiful words stands out for me as dramatically as purple clouds on the horizon at sunset.

Since that time, it seems that many life lessons have concerned learning--perhaps the correct word here is "re-learning"--the art and science of Simplicity. After all, as a small child I certainly lived simply and as freely as parental safeguards would permit. Like all children I did not burden myself with the trappings of society and the expectations of others. No, that comes a little later.

As a young child (under perhaps six or seven years), I climbed trees, splashed through puddles, and sometimes rolled in the mud for the pure, simple enjoyment of it. Rather like a hawk or deer or bear or flower, I did not burden myself (read worry) with such baggage as climbing corporate or academic ladders.

For that brief period of time, I did not worry whether people liked me or what was right or wrong; I was a priest unto myself; my dog was as much of a therapist as I needed. As much as I can remember, I more or less just lived, and eventually and inevitably (and necessarily, I suppose) learned to judge people as good or bad and value some objects and concepts over others.

So, in my view there is precedent for the simple life, the very personal experiences of early childhood that we all undergo. We all lived quite a simple, free life as we started down our path to learn about the vicissitudes of this earthly reality.

To me this childhood simplicity relates so much to spirit. So many mystical traditions (including the early Christians and Monastics, but especially the Zen Buddhists) speak of "de-learning" much of the arithmetic of thinking, of going beyond the preconceptions that we have developed over the course of our lives about the nature of reality. Most spiritual traditions celebrate the return to "heart of a child" as a necessary stage on the road to enlightenment. And a "little child shall lead them" the famous Biblical passage reads.

Maybe more simply put, it's just another passage into maturity. As life becomes more and more complicated with its jobs and progress and toothaches and relationships and the inevitable trips to the doctor, the therapist or the priest, it is easy to become disillusioned. Fumbling in the dark for the light switch of our lives, we suddenly see that what really matters is that we draw breath and love. The rest is so much rot.

Therefore, as I grow older, I have come to realize the importance of the sentiments of an old song from a less technological, though still burdened, age. Turning and turning on the lathe of life, baseless intellectual edifices and irrelevant possessions necessarily drop away because we cannot really fly spiritually with all those attachments to thoughts and things and people weighing us down.

Make no mistake about it: In my view this is a required course in life. Sooner or later we all jettison the excess baggage of life and not just at death either. It happens during our lives whether we like it or not, for our spirits want to be free. I believe all human beings have this simple need to be at peace with self and others and are drawn to put down their burdens. Look how many Christian hymns speak of laying one’s burdens at the feet of the Master.

Then, I suggest, we become truly supple spiritually. Is not flexibility of body, mind and spirit one of the goals of the profound physiological and spiritual traditions of Yoga and Tai Chi and of the shaman and the Native American Medicine Man among so many others?

Thus transformed, we can actually bow and bend in reverence of our real selves. In coming to value and live the truths of a simple life, we discover that we have been bestowed the other gift spoken of in the song, the gift of freedom.

Editor’s Note: Simplicity is really about finding out what is valuable in a life and then living that life in the perspective of those priorities. As I understand simplicity in the context of my own life, there’s more to the concept than just giving away possessions and living frugally (though that may be a part of simplifying one’s life also).

This article just took a quick look at some of the philosophical underpinnings of the Voluntary Simplicity movement and its relationships to the spiritual journey. I consider Simplicity an integral part of caring for the soul and will be writing future articles on the subject.

There are many helpful articles on Simplicity here at Suite101; just do a search. I would especially like to recommend Mari Alvig’s great site, Living Simply. Mari explores Simplicity from practical and theoretical perspectives. I have found her topic most helpful in my own spiritual growth.

Contributing Editor, Barbara Nicholson Bell, has written an excellent series of articles exploring Shaker beliefs and attitudes in the context of their famous furniture and craft designs for her great topic, Antiques and Collecibles. The first in the series is called, Shaker Furniture, Part 1: Faith in Form.

Additional Notes: Please note that this song, Simple Gifts, that has become fairly well known lately (since it was sung so beautifully at President Clinton’s first inauguration) is of Shaker and not Quaker origin as is commonly believed. Also, the opening lines are correct in stating “. . .the gift to be free [and] the gift to be Simple.” Often an “a” is substituted for the “the.”

Moreover, the song is often said to be of anonymous origin, but it was actually written by Shaker Elder Joseph Brackett, Jr. in 1848. Finally, it was considered by the Shakers as a “song” and not a “hymn.”

More information about Shaker music with related links is available from Simple Gifts.