Creative thinker Edward de Bono championed the cause of straightforwardness in his aptly titled book Simplicity.
In it, he cites some startling statistics, including research that reveals 95% of people do not use 90% of features on their video recorder because they are too complicated.
"In life we acquire responsibilities, habits, possessions, relationships and needs much more readily than we discard them. We are continually 'bullied' by opportunities," he muses.
"A young man at a party sees an attractive young woman and feels he ought to get to know her. You read a good review of a play and feel you ought to go to see it. A holiday area becomes fashionable and everyone is talking about it - so you have to see it for yourself."
De Bono's yearning for a more simple life - where we are no longer slaves to endless distractions and excitements - is hardly new.
In our increasingly sophisticated modern world, technological advancements have supposedly created more time for leisure activities and cultural, intellectual and spiritual pursuits.
That's the theory at least, but that has not proven so in the western world, and certainly not in the Land Down Under.
While Australians are universally regarded as a laidback sun-worshipping breed, the grim reality shows the opposite is true. New research released by The Australia Institute - an independent left-leaning think tank - says the nation is among the richest in the world, but at a price to personal happiness.
Australians actually work the longest hours in the developed world, spending an average of 1855 hours at work each year - that's 200 hours more than employees in other countries, even the notoriously hardworking folk in Japan.
One in five people work at least 50 hours a week, a figure which escalates dramatically in certain professions such as law or medicine.
The Australia Institute blames this relentless drive to work on the western obsession with material consumption - a trend it refers to as 'affluenza.'
It defines the term as the "epidemic of stress, overwork, waste and indebtedness caused by the dogged pursuit of the Australian dream" or alternatively "the bloated, sluggish and unfulfilled feeling that results from efforts to keep up with the Joneses."
It seems that while people are living in bigger houses, have more mod cons and luxury items and getting higher incomes, they are actually less content, particularly when it comes to personal relationships.
An increasingly popular antidote to the mounting stress and emptiness of consumer life is a phenomenon known as 'sea change,' and more recently 'tree change.'
This curious trend, which has generated huge media coverage and lively public discussion, involves frustrated folk trading in the café latte lifestyle for a quieter life by the sea or inland in the bush.
Blessed with stunning natural landscapes, urban Australians actually have the luxury of moving to idyllic spots that people in other parts of the world could only dream of. Steady streams of city dwellers are certainly taking up the chance to drop out of the rat race in pursuit of a simpler life.
On a practical level, the simple life translates to less traffic, shorter travel times to work, more affordable housing and fresher air. On a soul level, it means stripping back to the basics and having precious time to potter, to have a cup of tea with the neighbours, to tend the garden and to play with the kids.
There is even a website dedicated to the needs of 'sea changers' and 'tree changers' in Australia. The site offers practical tips on attractive towns or small communities to move to, listings of for-sale properties, job opportunities and inspiring stories of those who have already made the leap - and loving it.
Often people who have made the shift to a smaller, quieter community also voluntarily reduce their income either by working fewer hours, moving to a lower paid job or changing to a less demanding career.
This trend has also adopted its own name - 'downshifting' - and reflects people's growing willingness to salary sacrifice in exchange for more time.
Those who are not willing to completely cut their umbilical ties to the city move to a spot close enough so they can still commute to the urban centre for work during the week. They put up with longer transport times in exchange for the tranquillity of living further afield.
One such person is Melbourne-based performer Emma Strapps. Several years ago, in an effort to declutter her life and improve her health, she moved to Torquay about 100 kilometres south west of Melbourne.
Dubbed Australia's surfing capital, the coastal township boasts amazing beaches and is popular with beach bums, tourists and holiday makers. For the city born and bred girl, the shift was the culmination of a long-time fantasy to live by the sea.
The decision did not disappoint, even though she continued to regularly commute to the city to nurture a fledgling business.
"I loved the silence and the water - living just across the road from the beach was very special. I swam all the time even when the water was freezing. There wasn't a day when it didn't feel special," she says.
"It was about being very simple and slowing down - time took on a different dimension there."
Eventually, Emma's growing responsibilities forced her to be pragmatic and return to the city, but she - along with many others - continues to harbour the dream of finding her niche along the sea.