Take everything easy and quit dreaming and brooding and you will

When the poet Amy Lowell wrote, “Take everything easy and quit dreaming and brooding and you will be well guarded from a thousand evils,” she was not speaking in the language of carelessness, but of wisdom. Beneath her calm words lies a deep understanding of the restless heart of humankind. She saw that much of our suffering is not born from the world itself, but from the storms within our own minds—the endless brooding over what might have been, and the anxious dreaming of what is yet to come. To “take everything easy” is not to drift without care; it is to walk through life with a tranquil heart, immune to the poisons of worry, regret, and obsession.

Amy Lowell, a modern American poet of great intellect and fire, lived during an age of upheaval—wars, changing values, and the shifting roles of art and identity. Yet she found that amid such noise, the soul’s greatest refuge was equanimity. Her words reflect the wisdom of the ancients: the truth that peace cannot be found by chasing or by fleeing, but only by standing still within oneself. When she warns against dreaming and brooding, she speaks not against hope or imagination, but against the kind of dreaming that keeps us trapped in illusions—the kind that turns vision into longing, and longing into despair. For too much time spent gazing at what is not yet real blinds us to the beauty of what already is.

To “take everything easy” is the art of balance—to face joy without clinging to it, and sorrow without being consumed. It is a teaching that echoes through the words of sages from every age. Lao Tzu of China taught the same truth when he said, “Be still like a mountain, and flow like a great river.” For when the heart is calm, wisdom arises naturally, and the soul becomes “well guarded from a thousand evils”—from anger, jealousy, fear, and regret. The person who takes life too hard is torn by every storm; but the one who moves with ease walks through the fire and is not burned.

Consider the story of Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor and philosopher. Surrounded by war, betrayal, and burden, he ruled the mightiest empire of his time—and yet he wrote daily of peace, humility, and inner composure. “If you are distressed by anything external,” he said, “the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it.” This is the same wisdom Lowell offers: that to be “well guarded” is not to build walls against life, but to govern one’s own reactions. The greatest fortresses are not made of stone, but of serenity.

Yet Lowell’s words also carry a subtle caution. She warns us to “quit dreaming and brooding,” not to abandon vision, but to free ourselves from the torment of unfulfilled longing. There is a difference between the dreamer who envisions and acts, and the brooder who dwells and suffers. To dream without peace is to chase phantoms; to brood without release is to chain oneself to the past. The wise soul knows when to imagine and when to rest, when to reach and when to let go. To live easily is not to live shallowly—it is to live deeply, freely, and without self-torment.

The meaning, then, is clear: life is not meant to be endured in constant tension. The universe does not reward those who thrash against its current, but those who learn to flow with it. Taking everything easy is an act of courage—it means trusting that the path will unfold, even when the way is unclear. It means acting with calm strength, rather than anxious haste. It means mastering the mind, so that neither success nor failure can disturb the soul’s peace. This is not laziness, but discipline of spirit, the kind that protects one “from a thousand evils.”

The lesson, my child, is this: do not let your thoughts become your tormentors. Live neither in the shadows of yesterday nor in the mirage of tomorrow. Be present. Breathe. When troubles come, do not resist them with panic—face them with steadiness. When joy arrives, do not grasp it too tightly—let it pass through you like light through water. And when your mind begins to brood or dream excessively, remember Amy Lowell’s words, and return to the stillness within.

So, walk gently through the world. Take everything easy. Be kind to yourself and to others. Do what is yours to do, and leave the rest to time and truth. For when your heart is calm, you become untouchable; when your mind is at peace, you are “well guarded from a thousand evils.” And in that calmness, you will find not indifference, but freedom—the serene, radiant strength of one who has awakened from the storm and stands unshaken before the winds of life.