I bought a plant on the weekend and it reminded me that keeping things simple really is key to a happy life.

I’m a self-confessed simple girl. I don’t like a lot of fuss. I don’t like complicated processes and I don’t like agonizing over decisions. I like to set and forget the annoying administrative jobs in life like paying bills, health insurance, superannuation, dentist appointments (and let’s be honest, I’m really really good at forgetting about those altogether!).

Like many of us, I get overwhelmed really quickly when there’s just too much going on. Too many things on the menu. Too many conflicting ideas about what’s good and bad for your health. Too many apps to help you track stuff. Bloody hell, there’s even too many varieties of canned tomatoes on the supermarket shelf. Just too much.

When it comes to decision making, my solution is simple, because like I said, I’m a simple girl. I make one decision and stick to it until it’s no longer working for me. For example, there are always conflicting views on nutrition and weight loss. There have been for years and there will continue to be as long as there is a market for insecurities. My stress-free choice is to follow one expert view and trust in that to help me make a simple decision. I don’t agonise over making wrong decisions because I’ve already opted to trust someone who has the experience. It’s less stressful for me and while my choice is working for me, I don’t question it. If it stops working for me, I’ll look elsewhere. That’s called free will my friends.

I’ve been trying to live my life this way for a few years now – mostly since I became responsible for making sure a small human is fed and watered (and sheltered and loved and all that palaver!). When you have kids in your life (or a husband!) you need to keep things simple because your time is precious. It’s a commodity that you trade in order to stay sane. So I trade complexity for simplicity – all the time.

My new plant, which I chose in precisely 90 seconds, is an example of this.

A dear friend gave me a gift voucher for my birthday. It was from a plant nursery that we visit frequently for their onsite café with cubby houses where we can forget about the kids…I mean lovingly watch them frolic …while we catch up. My friend knew I was in the market for plants because I’ve just moved into a new house that is crying out for green stuff. So she bought me a gift voucher. Nice right?

Well…over the years I have wasted many many gift vouchers simply because I get paralyzed by choice. The shop is my oyster and I can put that voucher towards anything I want. Except I don’t because I can’t fucking decide! I couldn’t even choose a candle when my husband thought he was being sweet (he totally was) by getting me a voucher from a fancy schmancy candle shop. I walked in twice over the course of three months trying to pick something and in the end I let the bloody thing expire. How freakin’ dumb is that? And that’s just one example.

Sorry, back to the plant… I walked in to this plant shop on Sunday and I knew that if I spent time wandering around the glorious greenery I was going to come home with nothing but bitter disappointment and the voucher burning a hole in my handbag (which, by the way, is the SAME bag I used as a nappy bag because I can’t decide on a new one almost two years after I’m no longer carrying around nappies!). I also arranged to meet my friend there, the one who bought me the voucher, so I absolutely HAD to enjoy spending her present to me.

So I walked up to one section of plants that I liked the look of, checked that they were hardy, set and forget types (keeping plants alive is not my forte) and grabbed the one off display that was already nestled in a nice white pot, took it to the counter and went and had my coffee feeling bloody marvelous that I’d just made a quick decision without agonizing. And it’s a lovely plant. And it doesn’t matter if I don’t think it’s still lovely in a month (if it actually lives that long). By then I will have moved on and it’s just a fucking plant. I’m not curing cancer. I’m not orchestrating the take down of a tyrannical government. I’m not causing grievous bodily harm. It doesn’t matter if I change my mind. It’s just a plant.

And that’s kind of how I look at simple decisions these days. It’s just a plant. No need for lengthy discourse about it. Just make a decision, enjoy it and get on with something else. Like having coffee in the sun. Or having your weekly meal plan sorted. Or making sure you exercise every day at the same time. As Nike say – Just Do It!

In my experience, making a quick decision, having a routine that helps alleviate day-to-day decisions and keeping things simple are great ways to keep stress, anxiety and depression at bay.

Of course there are times in life where deliberating over decisions is a worthy and necessary use of your time – not everything in life is a plant! But many day-to-day things are simple; we just over complicate things and live in fear that the grass is always greener (and clever marketing prays on our inherent desire to constantly look over the fence).

Sometimes our quick decisions may not be the best ones. But that’s life. And that’s OK. There’s always next time, and there’s always another plant on the shelf.

I’ve been on hundreds of plane trips in my almost 45 years. Hundreds…maybe more. For work, for pleasure for family. Lots of planes. My first one was at about 3 months old when my parents decided that Australia would be a better place to raise their newborn than smoggy London town. But I don’t remember that plane trip. So I probably slept through the safety demonstrations. In fact, I still sleep through those. Which is why I still don’t know how to put my oxygen mask on first.

They tell you to put your oxygen mask on before helping others. This is so you don’t put yourself in danger as you forget about your own needs and focus on the needs of others. Focusing on the needs of others first is a common practice for women. Not all women and not only women…but a lot of women. And many mothers. As mothers we seem to have an inbuilt nurture function that means we feel compelled to attend to life and home (family and house) before ourselves. And it is so easy to leave ourselves off of our own ‘to do’ list. So so easy.

I run out of oxygen frequently and it’s my own fault. I let it run out. I’m the one that puts every other bloody thing before myself. Housework, errands, grocery shopping, meal planning, cooking, working, mothering, wife-ing (which is effectively being a personal assistant!), even the bloody cat needs medication and food before I’ve made my morning coffee. My day gets jam packed with close to nothing that’s all about me and before I know it I’m gasping for breath and on a downward spiral to a depressive episode.

It’s actually hard work to put yourself first. It means planning and some level of structure or routine to your day. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it’s hard if you want to be flexible and still respond to the needs of others. My single biggest challenge at the moment is getting out of bed at 6am. This would mean I would quite literally put myself first in the day and spend about an hour with just me to worry about before my day’s to do list takes over. My 3 year old can now toddle out of bed and get her own breakfast (don’t worry…she’s not making eggs and bacon, it’s just Weetbix and milk folks!) and she’s known how to work an iPad since she was a week old. She is a genius.

So why don’t I get out of bed when my alarm goes off at 6am? Why don’t I take a deep breath of oxygen before the day starts? I’m tired. I’m old. It’s cold. I’m full of excuses. I used to do really well at getting up early. In my life BHC (Before Husband & Child) when my life truly was just about me, I had no problem kick starting my day. But now that I have all these other responsibilities in my life, that of course make life fuller and wonderful and all that shit, I just want a bit more sleep.

Maybe I just need to reprogram my mind and self-talk to convince my lazy backside that exercising, moving, stretching or reflecting first thing every day is actually better than an extra 60 minutes in bed.

Yep – mind over matter and oxygen mask on first. I’m going to get right on that…just as soon as I drop my child to daycare and get some milk and bread…oh, and I think we’re out of Dijon mustard …and did I see some branches that need trimming back from the letterbox, the postman would appreciate it if I attended to that…but I’ll need to drop the garden shears in for sharpening, which I can do after the shops, but I should probably sort a few things out the garage when I get the shears out, because it’s a mess too…oh and…