TIME 1991 Cover Story: The Simple Life

Some couples are even thinking twice about divorce in light of the problems it can pose for children, the financial damage it does to families and other consequences. The U.S. divorce rate, which reached a high of 5.3 per 1,000 people in 1979, is now 4.7 and may still be falling.

Of all those rejecting the rat race to spend more time with their families, perhaps the most famous is Peter Lynch. While the 47-year-old investment superstar was busy building the Fidelity Magellan mutual fund into a $13 billion behemoth, his youngest daughter got to be seven years old, and he felt he hardly knew her. Last spring he stunned Wall Street when he decided to give up his 14-hour workdays. With a nest egg estimated at $50 million, Lynch could well afford to quit. But many ordinary people evidently felt a connection with what he did, for he received more than 1,000 letters of support for his move. These days, while other investment managers are scanning their market data at dawn, Lynch is making school lunches. Says he: ''I loved what I was doing, but I came to a conclusion, and so did some others: What in the hell are we doing this for? I don't know anyone who wished on his deathbed that he had spent more time at the office.''

The stay-at-home urge, also known as ''cocooning,'' has produced a boom of its own. Consumers spent more than $9 billion renting videotapes in 1990, up 13% from the previous year and nearly twice the $5 billion they paid to see new releases at theaters. Home entertaining is decidedly back to basics. Remember onion dip? The Mom Rule has re-emerged as America's primary meal- planning guide: if she never heard of it, don't serve it. With a couple of children in tow, mothers and fathers simply don't have time to hunt for goat cheese and sun-dried tomatoes in the supermarket. Marsha Bristow Bostick fondly recalls the leisurely evenings she spent at home before her children were born, ''cooking wonderful things with my husband while we sipped white wine.'' Now? ''We're eating SpaghettiO's, fried chicken, lots of terrible-for- you casseroles covered in cheese.''

Far from becoming hermits, many Americans are reaching out to strengthen their ties beyond the home. Instead of defining themselves mostly by their possessions and work, more Americans in big cities as well as small towns are getting involved with their communities. ''I don't think God puts you on this earth just to make millions of dollars and ignore everyone else,'' says Chris Amundsen of Minneapolis, a commercial real estate expert who took a 34% pay cut when he became the chief financial officer of a nonprofit housing agency.

Lately, charitable agencies and community groups have seen an upsurge in the willingness of Americans to help the less fortunate. In 1989 citizens gave a record $114.7 billion to charitable causes across the U.S., a 10% increase from the previous year, despite the stagnating economy. Instead of exchanging Christmas presents, many have started making contributions in the names of their friends. Even more impressive, more than 98 million Americans — about half of all adults — volunteered their time to charitable organizations in 1989, a 23% increase from two years earlier. Voluntary efforts range from the spectacular to the simply heartwarming. In Los Angeles real estate broker Eric Broida regularly volunteers at the Union Rescue Mission, where he serves meals to the homeless. ''A couple of years ago, I went down one night to help out, and it just felt right,'' he says. ''I felt good. I've been going back ever since.''

In their search for more enduring gratification in life, many people are seeking spirituality, if not a born-again commitment to organized religion. ''Spirituality is in,'' says theologian Marty, ''so much so that I get embarrassed by it.'' Says Milton Walsh, a Roman Catholic priest who is pastor of St. Mary's Cathedral in San Francisco: ''People want some kind of direction and purpose, the basic 'Who am I? Where am I going?' ''

The mood has influenced the career choices of college students and recent graduates. Many are spurning high-powered corporate careers to train for teaching, nursing and other community-service jobs. Joe Holland turned down generous offers after graduating from Harvard Law School a few years ago to move to Harlem to help build up the community. Now the owner of a restaurant and a travel agency, Holland has also founded a shelter for the homeless. ''I know that coming to Harlem shut the door to Wall Street,'' says he. ''But I can look at a healthy man, a full-time travel agent, who came through my homeless program two years ago strung out on crack. I have absolutely no regrets.''

By some analyses, the 1990s will be an anxious era of dues paying for the excesses of the '80s. That may be true in a public sense, but in private lives, how much fun was the past decade? For most Americans it was a time of struggling to keep up with everyone who seemed to be making it big. Now that the bubble of financial speculation has burst, people should — and do — feel entitled to accept more modest aspirations. The real estate market was a prime example of a 1980s torture track. Americans started thinking of housing as a vehicle for getting rich, rather than as just shelter, and it became an obsession. Author Ann Beattie, a chronicler of the baby boom, fled Manhattan in the mid-1980s for Charlottesville, Va., declaring, ''I could not spend the rest of my life listening to people talk about real estate. It's a constant, boring, hysterical subject.''

Now that the conversation has changed to more humane topics, how will it affect the economy? During the past month, consumer confidence has shaken off the worst of the recession blues, according to studies by the University of Michigan and the Conference Board. Over the long haul, prudent consumers who feel optimistic about the future could help build a stronger foundation for the economy. For one thing, the U.S. personal-savings rate, which dropped from 9% in the mid-1970s to a low of 2.3% in late 1987, is now about 4% and climbing. That will provide a larger pool of investment capital and could help the U.S. regain its competitive footing. The poor may also eventually benefit if the notion of a kinder, gentler America is translated into concrete action.

But the final question is this: Is the simple life just a passing fancy, a stylish flashback of the 1960s? Not so, say people who have studied both eras. Contends Berkeley sociologist Robert Bellah: ''It's no longer messianic, the way it was in the '60s, but relatively pragmatic. That may give the present mood a greater staying power.'' That's good, because the American generation now reaching middle age has a lot of promises to keep — not to mention mortgages to carry, tuition to pay and lawns to mow. No wonder they want to keep it simple.

— With reporting by Ann Blackman/Washington, Melissa Ludtke/Boston and William McWhirter/Chicago, with other bureaus