The sign caught my eye as soon as I walked through the door.
Tattered and decorated in permanent marker once crossed out, “We Are Hiring” was plastered across it in unmatched penmanship. It stuck out against the rows of dog toys and treats that filled the walls and racks, its red color faded at the edges exposing how much use it’s gotten throughout its life.
I remember feeling like I wanted to ask about it, not because I was interested, but because it seemed so out of reach for me at the time, or at least that was the story I was telling myself.
A few days later I found myself Googling the store for its email address, the tattered red sign still in my brain, and the simplicity of working in a pet store fueling excitement in my stomach.
When existentialism often takes over your brain cells, simplicity can feel like the only hope.
“Could you imagine?” I turned to my pup and asked out loud.
But really, can you?
Imagine trying to detach from hustle culture and societal ‘norms’, only to feel yourself falling into the Hanged Man energy, a place of knowing that you have to be in this uncomfortable cocoon right before a metamorphosis takes place — and having no idea what the metamorphosis will be.
As Tyler Durden would say, “It’s only after you’ve lost everything that you’re free to do anything.”
What if what you lost, was your metaphorical mind?
It’s a slippery slope once you start to daydream of simplicity.
A structured day of clocking in and clocking out, finding a meditative state in restocking shelves, discovering solace and peace in the store cat that dwelled behind the counter. Taking everything you've built and temporarily shoving it into the back closet of your ever-propelling mind.
What if a play in this whole human experience was to test your reaction to the simplicity, to push you to the limits of your own consciousness only to drop a lifeline right in your path? Would you be able to recognize the sign or walk right through it?
What if you could take control of simplifying your life the way the hustle has forced you into submission?
Maybe it’s less about looking for the signs and instead, accepting them for what they are; as invitations of expansion through means of the minimal, open doors to allowing yourself to slow down.
Overt permission slips to step off the beaten path.
And an obvious calling to finally let simplicity in.