What I love about winter is seeing all the tree branches covered with ice and white snow. The purity of the snow-laden back drop is a reminder of how beautiful the world can be. No matter how fast and busy life is, beauty lies all around, waiting for us to take notice. I then wonder how many times I’ve driven down the street, the highway and because of the busyness in my life, never see any of this beauty.

There are green benches located outside my son’s school entrance. Almost everyday, one of my kids will say, “Mom, can we sit on the bench for a few minutes?” Now, I know neither kid is really that tired. They have more energy than many kids I know! No, it’s just their way of saying, “Can we just slow down and relax?” In the beginning, I was reluctant to do this, knowing how much I had to do before dinner. It didn’t take me long, however, to realize that maybe they had a point. Maybe we should all take time from our busy day to rest and enjoy the beauty around us. Now whenever they ask to sit on the green bench, I say, “Yes, of course we can.” I recently heard a poignant story that clearly captured what I feel that we, as a society, so often do.

On a cold January morning, a man wearing jeans, t-shirt and baseball cap stood inside a metro station during rush hour in Washington DC and started playing his violin. For approximately 43 minutes, he stood and played six Bach pieces. It was estimated that, because of the rush hour, over a thousand people went through the station, probably most on their way to work. A few minutes went by into the first piece when a middle-aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace for a moment and even turned his head towards the violinist before hurrying on. Another minute and the musician received his first dollar tip by a woman as she quickly strode by, without missing a beat. A few more minutes and someone leaned against the wall to listen before heading on his way. This went on for nearly the duration of the “concert.”

In the 43 minutes the musician was playing, seven people stopped and listened. About 27 people gave him money, totaling $32. When the man finished playing, few even noticed. There was no applauding. There was no recognition. What all these people didn’t realize was that the man playing the violin was not just any man, but the legendary violinist Joshua Bell. What they also didn’t know was that this famed musician was playing one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a Stradivarius violin worth over $3.5 million (U.S.). Three days before playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a Boston theater where the seats averaged $100. And finally what these people didn’t know is that this violinist has been estimated to make $1000/minute when he plays. In the end, only one woman recognized who he was.

This was all part of a social experiment organized by the Washington Post about perception and priorities in life. The stipulations were simple: In an ordinary, everyday environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we even stop to appreciate it? If we don’t have time to stop and listen to one of the world’s best classical musicians, how many other things in life are we missing? So, as you go on your week, think about which person you want to be – one of the few that stops to enjoy true beauty? Or one of the thousand who keeps walking?

I love simplicity. I really do. Life is already tough as it is and anything that will help make my life simpler is an advantage in my book.

Take cell phones, for example. Up until a year ago, I owned a phone that only made calls. Imagine that. Okay, maybe it also took bad pictures, but really, that was it. I had a basic cell phone that didn’t have all the bells and whistles that everyone else’s seemed to have these days. In fact, if you held up a can and tied a string to one end, you pretty much had my phone. And I was FINE with it. It didn’t even occur to me that I needed anything else. The only reason I ended up getting a different phone was because our service carrier was being bought out by one of the national big boys and was no longer going to service my ancient phone.

The same thing goes with grocery shopping. I like my markets to be “one-stop shops.” Now don’t misunderstand me. When it comes to catering events, I have no problem making multiple stops to multiple shops (and often I do!) but for myself and my family, again, I like it simple. However, simple is not what I find in some of today’s grocery stores.

About two years ago, one of those “trendier neighborhood grocery stores” opened in town and there was much to-do about it. I, myself, was pretty excited because I had heard so much about their organic products, no artificial this and no MSG that. I finally decided to switch from my current store to this one. I figured I’m done with those big chains, those massive corporate giants that seemed to stomp out every local mom/pop shop. I was more than happy to step out and give this new place a try.

So one day, I head over to this “trendier neighborhood grocery store” with my shopping list. Mind you, although I may have some unique ingredients on my list from time to time, my list items are generally pretty basic. I always start in the produce section. As I scanned the section for fresh herbs, I noticed that half of the herbs on my list are not even hanging on the shelf. There were only 3-4 selections to choose from. There were no empty hangers where the other herbs may have been so I asked a produce clerk where they might be. She pointed to the measly 3-4 herbs and said that’s it. Really? That’s it? No flat leaf parsley, no sage, no rosemary and don’t even think about tarragon.

As I went through the rest of my list, I was very disheartened by the fact that I found the same result for half of my list items. Yet, what was frustrating was although they lacked in basic ingredients, they had a plethora of gourmet cheeses and more imported olive oil than Popeye would know what to do with.

As I checked out, I looked at my half empty cart (and the cart is not very big to begin with). All of a sudden I longed for my former grocery store. Maybe I don’t mind those big chains after all. And are all massive corporate giants really evil? As I drove into the parking lot of said giant, I realized the answer to my question. No, probably not. Not if it means shopping here will make my life simpler.