Friday, May 17, 2013

The Reason I Write

I began my journey into a more simple, meaningful life a few years ago.  

I was easily agitated, unsettled, & prone to outbursts in my mid to late twenties.  However, when I paused to evaluate my life, there was absolutely no reason to be this way.  I had an amazing marriage, a great house, loving family, my dream job, regular vacations, and all the gadgets I wished for, but I still wasn't at peace.

One day, I Googled the words 'how get rid stuff'.  Leo Babauta's was among the top hits.  His writing introduced me to the world of minimalism.  I devoured every word.  It felt like common sense.

I, then, linked to multiple others who wrote on similar subjects -,,, and

These resources in conjunction with my interest in meditation, affirmations, & energetics have guided me to a peace that I have never known before.

I commonly see bloggers in pursuit of earning money via their writing, & I have no problem whatsoever with this, but I am not looking to monetize my work.

I receive "payment" in non-financial ways.

A friend messaged me to express thanks for introducing the concept of minimalism to her.  She is taking her first baby steps to remove unnecessary items.

Another friend earned a sizable amount of money by selling her "out the door" pile.

One woman I worked with found $100 cash under a pile of paperwork that had mounted on her desk.

A coworker is planning to downsize her living space to save money to pursue her dreams of traveling.

Yet another friend cleaned out a storage space in America so she could continue her new life untethered in another country.

I helped to change a coworker's perspective on his upcoming move across the country.  He was unnerved about getting rid of everything & starting anew.  I reminded him that he has a clean slate.  He can start all over again with less.  He reported that he feels great as his load lightens & is realizing how little he truly needs.  Plus, the decreased expense for a smaller apartment will allow him to transition more smoothly.

YOU are the reason I write.  I vibrate with the need to share, & I am compensated by your successes.  

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Remembering the Why

My husband grabbed one end of the five foot cardboard box & I the other.  We attempted a few different ways to shove it into my 4-door 2005 Honda Accord.  

"It's not going to work," he asserted.

"No.  I think I can get it," I countered.

I ran to the opposite side - attempting one last maneuver to cram it into my backseat.

"Gosh darn stuff!" I grunted as I invested my last bit of energy.

Finally!  The box cleared the door frame & landed on my seat... sideways.

My husband affirmed the obvious, "You know it's just going to all fall out when you pull it out?"

"I know," I sighed.

I drove the car to the grassy yard sale site a quarter mile from our home.  In an attempt to spare my poor husband from any more of my great ideas related to this venture, I decided to transport the box from my car & up a small hill.

Surprisingly, it wasn't too difficult to slide it out the door.  'Phew' I thought.  'This shouldn't be too bad.'

Within seconds, clothes started to pop out the top - now side - of the box as it puckered & buckled.  All of the clothes I painstakingly folded into nice, neat piles according to type melted into a jumbled soup on the sidewalk.  Not only was it fabric that lie on the ground - it represented wasted money, wasted time, wasted opportunity.

I wanted to cry.

Not because the clothes were becoming dirty.  Not because my organization & planning went to waste.  Not because my husband could gloat about being right.  And not because of the woman parked nearby who stared at me blankly as I contorted myself to save the contents.

I felt defeated by my own insatiable desire to acquire so much stuff.  I burdened myself with this debacle.  I got myself into this mess.  After 2 years of simplifying, clothing is my last hurdle.

I spent a few hours upset about the situation.  Until I came to a realization - a remembering.

This is a painful reminder of why I should never let it get to this point ever again.  

It never would have been enough.  The stuff never made me truly content, & I blindly continued to search for happiness in acquiring more.

The truth is that I am enough just as I am - no more but definitely with less.