I devour movies like my name is Bruce. (Insert the Jaws theme here.) Movies inspire me. I’m fascinated with how they work. I pick them apart, trying to determine what makes me like one and hate another.

It’s not like I’m the only one, obviously. Plenty of people analyze movies. That’s a big part of what movies are for, I think: dissection. Like any form of storytelling, movies are a source of inspiration and conversation.

And you probably are sitting there like, “Yes, Lucy, we know all this. This isn’t a hot take or anything.”

Yeah, I know that.

I just wanted to be clear before we move on: I love movies.

I probably watch too much television, whether it’s movies or shows. My film-editor, movie-buff dad is often impressed (or perhaps concerned) at the sheer amount of television I consume. I probably know the face of every Canadian character actor from the mid 2000s. And I’m very much a mood watcher. I don’t just pick something random to watch–I consider it, thinking about the themes I want to view at the moment, the tone I want to be set in, the characters I want to meet.

Now, I tell myself it’s for a good reason. It’s for research. Inspiration. I’m appreciating art.

And that’s true…most of the time.

But I’ve been thinking and praying a lot about simplicity. In the last few days, I’ve been specifically focused on the idea of “What in my life is more complicated than it needs to be?”

It started on Monday. Then a lightbulb went off Tuesday night. Actually, it wasn’t really a lightbulb. It was a faint glow in the distance, like Daisy’s green light–dim but instantly recognizable, and very hard to ignore.

Monday.

I had gotten an ethereal nudge earlier in the day that my nighttime routines needed major help. See, I’m a “spend every minute before bed catching up on that show you like even though it ended ten years ago” kind of girl. I stare a glowing rectangle right up until the second I roll over and shut my eyes.

So I got home with the idea of “alright, I’m going to stop watching TV earlier tonight.”

Which was fine. I could manage that.

When I got home, I curled up in bed and switched one of my many current shows (this time it was Elementary, season 2). I was cozy. It was great. I kept an eye on the time, so I wouldn’t be watching past 9:30, which is when my iPhone’s bedtime wind down starts.

Then I got a text from a friend.

“Do you want to go to so-and-so’s house and pray?” she asked.

I pulled my electric blanked tighter around me. No, I thought. I’m cozy and it’s cold outside, and it’s already like 8pm.

As I said, my new rules for myself–which I had laid out for myself that very morning—clearly stated that I was not allowed to watch TV after 9:30.

It was simple: if I left now, I wouldn’t be able to finish my episode.

I don’t want to go, my thoughts groaned, louder than before. I looked up from the computer screen. Crap, I thought, that probably means I should go… At that thought, my desire to stay curled up in bed blazed red hot, like I’d poured gasoline on a fire.

I DO NOT WANT TO GO.

That was the final straw. It was very very clear that I had to go.

Grumpily, I rolled out of bed and texted my friend that I’d be there in a minute.

And I had a good night. I had good conversations. I don’t typically find myself at Walmart at 9:30pm, but hey. We just went where the night took us.

And when I got home, it was almost 10. I almost threw open my laptop. Almost snuggled into bed, ready to binge at least one more episode. Just one more, I told myself. There’s no harm in that.

But no. It was day one. I couldn’t quit on day one. That would be so lame.

So I brushed my teeth and went to bed.

Tuesday.

Tuesday was a long day. Lots of school, then a long worship practice. I ended up getting home a little past 8.

I was beat. So tired. I couldn’t wait to relax a bit.

I sat down at my desk, where my Switch Lite and my laptop were waiting for me. I booted up Animal Crossing while I scrolled through Disney+ on my laptop.

The question was: What to watch?

I wasn’t in a specific mood. I didn’t really feel like watching Elementary. In fact, nothing was really coming to mind.

I hadn’t even opened my browser when a thought struck me.

Hey. You don’t have to watch anything.

I closed my laptop.

I had been living the wrong kind of simplicity. In fact, it wasn’t simple at all. I was operating in a complex system of pairing television shows with my current mood, and blindly cramming in as many episodes as I could before bed.

The simple truth was this: I didn’t have to do any of that. I could do something else.

I know that might sound stupid. Or obvious.

But I think we can sometimes create subconscious expectations for ourselves.

When we love to do something, we somehow convince ourselves that we must always do that thing. That we have to do it whenever we get the chance. It becomes a default setting. Just do it!

But…we don’t need to.

Just because you like watching movies doesn’t mean you have to watch a movie every time you get home.

Sometimes it’s good to state the obvious, you know? How else are we supposed to remember that it’s obvious?

So…that thing you do for comfort every time you get home?

You’re allowed to do something else. Don’t feel obligated to be consistent.

Who knows, you might find a new cool thing. Or an old cool thing that you’ve forgotten about.

Keep it simple. You might surprise yourself.

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