6 Questions I Ask Every Week to Keep My Life Genuinely Simple

I did not choose simple living. Simple living chose me.

In 2020 during Corona when the world went quiet, our life got very loud. My husband’s business — which he had spent years building — collapsed almost overnight. Orders stopped. Clients disappeared. The income we had built our entire routine around simply vanished. Like millions of families across India, we went from a comfortable life to counting every rupee, almost without warning.

Those first few months were the hardest of my life. The financial pressure was relentless. But as the months passed and the dust began to settle, something unexpected started happening. Without the money to spend, I was forced to look at what we actually had. And in that looking, I began to see how much of our life had been made up of things we never really needed.

The unnecessary expenses fell away first — the subscriptions, the eating out, the small purchases that had felt like rewards but were really just noise. Then came the relationships. I quietly let go of the ones that only existed in good times, the ones that drained more than they gave. I started spending evenings outside instead of scrolling inside. I rolled out my yoga mat on the terrace in the mornings and found something I hadn’t felt in years — stillness.

I did not expect a crisis to give me clarity. But it did.

The harder lesson came later, though. Once life started stabilizing, I noticed the old patterns trying to creep back. A little more spending here. A draining obligation there. A cluttered calendar slowly filling up again. Simplicity, I learned, is not something you achieve once. It is something you have to choose, over and over, every single week.

So I began asking myself six questions every Sunday. They keep me honest. They keep me simple. They keep me connected to the life I found in the hardest season of my years.

1. What drained me this week that I don’t have to repeat?

During the worst of our financial struggle, I had no energy to waste. I could not afford — emotionally or practically — to spend myself on things that gave nothing back.

That season taught me to notice what drains me. And this question makes sure I keep noticing.

Sometimes the answer is a commitment I agreed to out of habit. Sometimes it is a conversation that left me feeling smaller than before. Sometimes it is simply a way I spent my time that did not serve me or anyone I love.

I used to push through everything without questioning it. Now I name what is costing me and ask honestly whether it has to continue. Most of the time, it doesn’t.

2. Did I spend my time on what actually matters to me?

When the crisis hit, the noise of daily life went silent — and for the first time in years, I could hear what I actually valued. Not what I had been chasing. What I genuinely loved.

My family. My health. The quiet of an early morning. The feeling of my feet on grass. Time that was slow enough to actually live inside.

Every week I check whether my hours reflected those things. The answer is not always yes. But asking the question pulls me back before I drift too far.
This is the question that has saved me from busyness more times than I can count.

3. What can I cancel, decline, or remove before the week ahead?

Before the pandemic, I filled my weeks without thinking. Plans, commitments, obligations — I added them without ever asking whether they belonged.

Now, before I look at what is coming, I look for what I can take away. An event I said yes to when I was feeling generous but dread now that it is close. A task on my list that no longer needs to be there. A habit I have been carrying out of inertia rather than intention.

Simplicity is not just about what you let into your home. It is about what you let into your week. This question protects my time before someone else fills it.

4. Is there anything I’m holding onto out of guilt rather than genuine need?

One of the most painful parts of our financial struggle was letting go — of things we owned, of a lifestyle we had built, of relationships that quietly disappeared when times got hard.

But something surprising came with that loss: freedom.

I learned that I had been holding onto a great deal out of guilt. Clothes I never wore because they were gifts. Friendships that had become one-sided but felt wrong to release. A version of myself I thought I was supposed to be.

This question asks me to look at what is still in my life for the wrong reasons. Because guilt, I have learned, is not a good enough reason to keep anything.

5. Where did I feel most like myself this week?

The years before the crisis, I barely knew who I was outside of the roles I was playing — wife, daughter-in-law, someone who kept everything running. The stillness that came with lockdown was disorienting at first. Then it became a gift.

I found myself on my terrace at six in the morning, breathing, stretching, watching the sky change color. I found myself on slow walks with no destination. I found myself in the kitchen, cooking unhurriedly, with music playing and nowhere to be.

Those moments showed me who I actually was. This question, every week, makes sure I give that person enough room to exist.

6. Did my week feel simple — or did it just look simple?

This is the question I have learned to be most honest about.

It is easy to appear to live simply. A tidy home. A small wardrobe. A few wellness practices. But I have had weeks where everything looked fine on the surface and I was exhausted underneath — overscheduled, emotionally cluttered, running on fumes.

Simplicity is not a look. It is a feeling. It is the feeling of having space — in your day, in your mind, in your chest when you breathe.

When I can truly answer yes to this question, I know I am living in alignment with the life I chose when everything else fell away. Not the life I performed. The life I actually want.

I am not a minimalism expert. I did not read a book and decide to change my life. I had my life changed for me, in the most difficult way, and I had to find a new way to live inside it.

What I found was simpler, quieter, and in almost every way more honest than what came before.

These six questions are how I make sure I keep it that way. Not perfectly. Not without struggle. But with intention, every week, one Sunday at a time.

***

About the Author: Jyoti Yadav turned financial struggle into a minimalist lifestyle — and hasn’t looked back. She shares real, honest stories of simple living at jyotisimplelife.com. You can also follow her journey on Instagram (@jyotisimplelife) and Substack.