As time goes by, I seem to be gravitating towards simplicity and purity, without expressly having decided to do so. It just happens naturally and slowly, as small choices accumulate.

I’ve been a vegetarian for over 14 years. (For a while I occasionally ate seafood, but haven’t done it more than once a month or so for the last few years.) While I was never a heavy boozer, I used to have a drink now and again. Even before the pregnancy I had become less fond of alcohol, and the pregnancy gave me a reason to stop completely. Since then I haven’t had any drinks, apart from a small dash of sauternes on my ice cream once, and half a cup of glögg. I don’t miss it at all.

A few years ago I used to wear perfume regularly, and sometimes even a little bit of make-up. Almost-empty bottles of my two favourite perfumes have been languishing at the back of the bathroom cabinet for years. I don’t have the heart to throw them out, even though I never use them. I last wore make-up for a friend’s wedding in 2003. For a long time I used to think of getting a tattoo; now I cannot even imagine piercing my ears because I feel it would break something that is currently simple and clean.

I am less and less fond of buying and owning things, of being surrounded by things. Every time I have to buy something that then has to take up space in our flat, I do so reluctantly. I feel an urge to purge, to throw things out, to give stuff away. (Not books, though. Books are different. And plants are good, too.) I think this may be part of the reason why I like digital things – a blog instead of a diary, digital photos, a digital job. It doesn’t clutter up my surroundings.

I don’t really know where I’m heading with this post or what to make of this… I’ve just been thinking about this for a while and wondering where this is going. Maybe I will end up living on a deserted island or on a mountaintop, surrounded by lots of nothing. And books.