10 years ago I did a workshop at the Eramosa Eden Retreat Center: "Clear your Clutter with Feng Shui." I gained some great philosophies from it, but clutter is really habitual.
5 Years ago I finally made the connection between hoarding and scarcity mindset. I was always trying to "use up" the worn out things, with the "good stuff" stashed in the closet for later. Later never seemed to come and I was always longing for the day when I would get to enjoy the possessions I truly cared about. And I was always wasting time searching for the things I needed, buried under pointless junk.
I read the 100 Thing Challenge. I was overcome with a clear sense of how I was trapping myself.
I had already noticed that my baby didn't care at all about any of the fancy baby gadgets I could provide her with.
She just wanted me.
So that's when I started getting rid of all my stuff. (And writing about it)
Everything I had ever worked for was because I wanted to be a parent. I thought one of the defining characteristics of what makes a 'good parent' was the ability to be a great provider of material things. but right away I realized that wasn't it at all. (Obviously I'm not referring to food and shelter here.)
Becoming a Mom was such an upheaval to everything I was good at.
Because suddenly none of it was really that relevant. Babies just want you.
So I got rid of as much stuff as I was comfortable with. Which was a lot of stuff.
And things were really cool for a while. It was very liberating.
But then I had a whole new problem, which was... What's the point of any of this? What exactly am I working towards here?
That horrible feeling was nagging at my soul. I knew that there was no more of something left in the life I was living, and If I didn't do something about it I'd start heading down the wrong path. Many people around me tried to convince me that it was still really really excellent path. I knew, (despite it's obvious excellence and sparkling glory- I had truly enjoyed that path for 6 years!) it had suddenly veered towards a huge empty pit of despair.
So then I got rid of even more stuff. Stuff I really liked, even. (I don't miss any of it.)
I sold the house and used the money to buy time to think.
Actually, that money ran out years ago, and now I'm in debt from thinking too hard for so long.
Yep. Stasia Bryant and the Extremely Expensive Existential Crisis.
I would do it all over exactly the same.
I would not have been able to define it back then, but I craved to grow beyond anything that was available to me there. I'm not sure that kind of growth could have come from any one specific location either. That kind of growth takes time and effort, and going far outside one's comfort zone.
I borrowed so many bits and pieces of ideas from so many people and places to keep puzzling away on my quest. I finally, just in this last month, am starting to feel like I sort-of know what I'm doing a tiny little bit.
That doesn't mean I wasn't having tons of fun most of the time over the last 5 years.
Of course I was having fun! Fun is my purpose of life!
(I can experience the full spectrum of human emotion and still have a ton of fun. The full spectrum of human emotion is what makes life fun.)
I'm pretty fascinated by how our culture handles dead end roads into empty pits of despair. First we put the blinders on so we can't see much outside the television screen. (Don't have blinders? People will line up to share theirs with you! Don't have a TV? Not a problem. Everyone has like 5 extras and they want to give one to you.) We start "numbing behaviors". What else can we consume? What will fill the void? If it doesn't fill us, we can always increase consumption, right? A glass of wine? How 'bout the whole bottle? A cigarette? Have a carton! 60 cups of coffee? 10 square meals a day? A bigger television? A bigger television than that! How 'bout a Bose Home Theatre System with 8.1 surround sound?
We become consumers of dis-empowering stories when our gadgets don't fulfill us. Complaining becomes another addiction."It's Not My Fault. It's Just The Way Things Are." Maybe we can invent a pill for this. Maybe things will be better when we get a new job. Maybe they will be better when we get a new car? Maybe we can change our hair? A new brand of makeup? What about this shirt? How about these shoes? Do these shoes make me look happy?
I'm not saying don't wear makeup or buy happy shoes or drink wine or own a gorgeous television.
I'm saying you are as free or as enslaved as you ever want to be and it's always your choice.
I moved 7 times in the last 5 years. I quickly realized how heavy stuff is. And how annoying it is to re-pack a thing that hasn't mattered or made a bit of difference to us in the last 12 months.
I mastered setting up a home and getting organized really really fast. Systems optimization is essential in parenting.
My kids have toys. Some days they get really into playing with them and melt my heart with the adorable little games they invent. Other times they use thier wooden railroad track as weapons on each-other because they are bored and craving my attention.
I still own stuff. I still enjoy *things*. I have a cake pan collection stashed in a closet. I've hung on to my favorite culinary tools, because I want to start a Community Kitchen Catering Company. That's allowed to be a 10 year goal, but if it happens sooner, cool. If it never happens, whatever.
Life is not a race, and not every goal needs to come to fruition.
I've always believed strongly in taking good care of your things. Right now my bicycle is outside in the snow and I feel guilty that I haven't stored it properly. I am not a perfect human being and I accept that.
I've learned to accept the insane frustration of products designed to fail. Intentional obsolescence used to stress me out so much. I used to fret over making a bad choice & hold resentment about corporate greed.
I've finally begun to accept that I can't take responsibility for everything. I go at life so hard:
Is this the best I can do? Is this? Can I take it up another level still? What is actually the *best* I can do?
Sara has coached me on this. She calls it all or nothing thinking. Whenever I catch myself engaging in it, I know I'm listening to some external voice whose opinions I've allowed to control my ego.
So now I pay different mind to our stuff.
If we decide it matters to us, we create space for it.
If it breaks and I can't fix it, we move on.
If nobody uses it, it gets donated.
If it is something we really want, It finds its way into our life.
The space in my life that slowly opened up as I got more comfortable letting things go made room for other kinds of things. The strength to quit smoking, for example. My enchantment with how amazing I felt as a non smoker piqued me to explore veganism. I am not a vegan, and I may never be, but I do like to eat that way as much as I can.
I thought I would have tons of "extra money" every time I gave something up. I did, but I upgraded my spending to make different lifestyle choices. It stopped bothering me to pay a little extra for really tasty healthy food.
Instead of being a workaholic I chilled out and often chose to be first cut from my shifts at the restaurant. I came home and took my dog for long walks at the Clen Denam Dam before I picked up Zoraya from daycare. I threw all my resources at being the Kind of Mom I Want to Be (and no, I'm not yet the kind of mom I want to be, but I'm not allowed to engage in "all or nothing thinking" 😎)
When River was born I didn't send Zoraya to Kindergaden because I knew how much we would all benefit from getting really excellent sleep that year. That was a great year. One of my favorites. It is impossible now to sell me on the benefit of running around like stressed out idiot because of the choices I've learned to make.
Before minimalism I felt remorseful while making most purchases. I worried about money constantly. I felt guilty about everything. I can't say I feel that way anymore.
I don't buy many "things" now, because there just isn't that much that I want. When I do decide to buy something, I see it as an investment in myself & my family, so I buy a quality version of that thing, and I enjoy making the purchase. Then every time I use that item I get a special twinge of pleasure and satisfaction.
I now buy the things that I want instead of only what's available in bargain shops. I love the feeling of wearing clothes that fit me properly. Of course we do still try to find what we need in thrift stores, and when we find something cool that we want, we get it. I love the feeling of always having cash in my wallet. I love to sit and eat a nice meal with my daughters at the health food store when we decide to. (It's also been beyond amazing to have the time to sit and eat some nice meals by myself these past few months 😌).
Thinking back on 2016 I realized that I was engaging in Time Scarcity. Believing I could make a mad dash towards balanced living. I scoff at how ironic (moronic?) it seems from this vantage point. I am moving forward with the attitude that things will all get accomplished when they need to, and that I will find fun careers that fit into kid schedules while simultaneously paying our bills. I am completely confident that it will all come together.
I once heard that "Poverty is a disease of the mind" I love that. I couldn't agree more wholeheartedly.
5 Years ago I finally made the connection between hoarding and scarcity mindset. I was always trying to "use up" the worn out things, with the "good stuff" stashed in the closet for later. Later never seemed to come and I was always longing for the day when I would get to enjoy the possessions I truly cared about. And I was always wasting time searching for the things I needed, buried under pointless junk.
I read the 100 Thing Challenge. I was overcome with a clear sense of how I was trapping myself.
I had already noticed that my baby didn't care at all about any of the fancy baby gadgets I could provide her with.
She just wanted me.
So that's when I started getting rid of all my stuff. (And writing about it)
Everything I had ever worked for was because I wanted to be a parent. I thought one of the defining characteristics of what makes a 'good parent' was the ability to be a great provider of material things. but right away I realized that wasn't it at all. (Obviously I'm not referring to food and shelter here.)
Becoming a Mom was such an upheaval to everything I was good at.
Because suddenly none of it was really that relevant. Babies just want you.
 |
| Reflection of a baby whose only desire is love |
So I got rid of as much stuff as I was comfortable with. Which was a lot of stuff.
And things were really cool for a while. It was very liberating.
But then I had a whole new problem, which was... What's the point of any of this? What exactly am I working towards here?
That horrible feeling was nagging at my soul. I knew that there was no more of something left in the life I was living, and If I didn't do something about it I'd start heading down the wrong path. Many people around me tried to convince me that it was still really really excellent path. I knew, (despite it's obvious excellence and sparkling glory- I had truly enjoyed that path for 6 years!) it had suddenly veered towards a huge empty pit of despair.
So then I got rid of even more stuff. Stuff I really liked, even. (I don't miss any of it.)
I sold the house and used the money to buy time to think.
Actually, that money ran out years ago, and now I'm in debt from thinking too hard for so long.
Yep. Stasia Bryant and the Extremely Expensive Existential Crisis.
I would do it all over exactly the same.
I would not have been able to define it back then, but I craved to grow beyond anything that was available to me there. I'm not sure that kind of growth could have come from any one specific location either. That kind of growth takes time and effort, and going far outside one's comfort zone.
I borrowed so many bits and pieces of ideas from so many people and places to keep puzzling away on my quest. I finally, just in this last month, am starting to feel like I sort-of know what I'm doing a tiny little bit.
That doesn't mean I wasn't having tons of fun most of the time over the last 5 years.
Of course I was having fun! Fun is my purpose of life!
(I can experience the full spectrum of human emotion and still have a ton of fun. The full spectrum of human emotion is what makes life fun.)
I'm pretty fascinated by how our culture handles dead end roads into empty pits of despair. First we put the blinders on so we can't see much outside the television screen. (Don't have blinders? People will line up to share theirs with you! Don't have a TV? Not a problem. Everyone has like 5 extras and they want to give one to you.) We start "numbing behaviors". What else can we consume? What will fill the void? If it doesn't fill us, we can always increase consumption, right? A glass of wine? How 'bout the whole bottle? A cigarette? Have a carton! 60 cups of coffee? 10 square meals a day? A bigger television? A bigger television than that! How 'bout a Bose Home Theatre System with 8.1 surround sound?
We become consumers of dis-empowering stories when our gadgets don't fulfill us. Complaining becomes another addiction."It's Not My Fault. It's Just The Way Things Are." Maybe we can invent a pill for this. Maybe things will be better when we get a new job. Maybe they will be better when we get a new car? Maybe we can change our hair? A new brand of makeup? What about this shirt? How about these shoes? Do these shoes make me look happy?
I'm not saying don't wear makeup or buy happy shoes or drink wine or own a gorgeous television.
I'm saying you are as free or as enslaved as you ever want to be and it's always your choice.
 |
| #choices |
I moved 7 times in the last 5 years. I quickly realized how heavy stuff is. And how annoying it is to re-pack a thing that hasn't mattered or made a bit of difference to us in the last 12 months.
I mastered setting up a home and getting organized really really fast. Systems optimization is essential in parenting.
My kids have toys. Some days they get really into playing with them and melt my heart with the adorable little games they invent. Other times they use thier wooden railroad track as weapons on each-other because they are bored and craving my attention.
I still own stuff. I still enjoy *things*. I have a cake pan collection stashed in a closet. I've hung on to my favorite culinary tools, because I want to start a Community Kitchen Catering Company. That's allowed to be a 10 year goal, but if it happens sooner, cool. If it never happens, whatever.
Life is not a race, and not every goal needs to come to fruition.
I've always believed strongly in taking good care of your things. Right now my bicycle is outside in the snow and I feel guilty that I haven't stored it properly. I am not a perfect human being and I accept that.
I've learned to accept the insane frustration of products designed to fail. Intentional obsolescence used to stress me out so much. I used to fret over making a bad choice & hold resentment about corporate greed.
I've finally begun to accept that I can't take responsibility for everything. I go at life so hard:
Is this the best I can do? Is this? Can I take it up another level still? What is actually the *best* I can do?
Sara has coached me on this. She calls it all or nothing thinking. Whenever I catch myself engaging in it, I know I'm listening to some external voice whose opinions I've allowed to control my ego.
So now I pay different mind to our stuff.
If we decide it matters to us, we create space for it.
If it breaks and I can't fix it, we move on.
If nobody uses it, it gets donated.
If it is something we really want, It finds its way into our life.
The space in my life that slowly opened up as I got more comfortable letting things go made room for other kinds of things. The strength to quit smoking, for example. My enchantment with how amazing I felt as a non smoker piqued me to explore veganism. I am not a vegan, and I may never be, but I do like to eat that way as much as I can.
I thought I would have tons of "extra money" every time I gave something up. I did, but I upgraded my spending to make different lifestyle choices. It stopped bothering me to pay a little extra for really tasty healthy food.
Instead of being a workaholic I chilled out and often chose to be first cut from my shifts at the restaurant. I came home and took my dog for long walks at the Clen Denam Dam before I picked up Zoraya from daycare. I threw all my resources at being the Kind of Mom I Want to Be (and no, I'm not yet the kind of mom I want to be, but I'm not allowed to engage in "all or nothing thinking" 😎)
When River was born I didn't send Zoraya to Kindergaden because I knew how much we would all benefit from getting really excellent sleep that year. That was a great year. One of my favorites. It is impossible now to sell me on the benefit of running around like stressed out idiot because of the choices I've learned to make.
Before minimalism I felt remorseful while making most purchases. I worried about money constantly. I felt guilty about everything. I can't say I feel that way anymore.
I don't buy many "things" now, because there just isn't that much that I want. When I do decide to buy something, I see it as an investment in myself & my family, so I buy a quality version of that thing, and I enjoy making the purchase. Then every time I use that item I get a special twinge of pleasure and satisfaction.
I now buy the things that I want instead of only what's available in bargain shops. I love the feeling of wearing clothes that fit me properly. Of course we do still try to find what we need in thrift stores, and when we find something cool that we want, we get it. I love the feeling of always having cash in my wallet. I love to sit and eat a nice meal with my daughters at the health food store when we decide to. (It's also been beyond amazing to have the time to sit and eat some nice meals by myself these past few months 😌).
Thinking back on 2016 I realized that I was engaging in Time Scarcity. Believing I could make a mad dash towards balanced living. I scoff at how ironic (moronic?) it seems from this vantage point. I am moving forward with the attitude that things will all get accomplished when they need to, and that I will find fun careers that fit into kid schedules while simultaneously paying our bills. I am completely confident that it will all come together.
I once heard that "Poverty is a disease of the mind" I love that. I couldn't agree more wholeheartedly.
“The greatest disease in the West today is not TB or leprosy; it is being unwanted, unloved, and uncared for. We can cure physical diseases with medicine, but the only cure for loneliness, despair, and hopelessness is love. There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love. The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty -- it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality. There's a hunger for love, as there is a hunger for God.”
― Mother Teresa, A Simple Path
In recent contemplation over where would be an ideal place to live, (because I'm not interested in accommodating another vehicle in my financial budget or my time budget anywhere in the visible future) I considered moving back to Guelph (because of Public Transit and the University and many things for kids to do, and great friends, and so many hippies) but my standard of living now includes the pleasure of walking to the beach. (Spoiled! I know.) My preferences extend to the good drinking water that flows from the kitchen tap. (Who'd have thought clean water would settle so high on a person's priority list?!! ...I also have a fetish for fresh air.)
I truly wonder who I would have become if I had listened to the people 5 years ago who tried to convince me to stay. Surely a fraction of the person I am now. It makes my stomach do a weird twisty thing to imagine never having met the spectacular individuals who fill up my heart today.
The space I am de-cluttering now is the space inside my head. That sounds goofy but it's sincere. I no longer stumble over objects piled in the hallway, but I regularly trip over my reactionary nature. I can resist the temptation of junk food, but I still indulge in anger; impatient and yelling furiously at my children who I love so much. All I want to be a parent who is mindful, calm and present.
They say meditation can achieve this. I will report back to you in 5 years.
