My husband and I have lived in our house for 10 years. When we moved in we were 28 & 29 years old. Good lord. There it is. That stuff that makes me feel old. 28? That seems like a lifetime ago. We had no kids. We had no dog. We had no furniture. (Ok so that's not entirely true. This wasn't our first house so we had some furniture but not "enough".)
When we were 28 & 29, our lives revolved around our friends. Hanging out with them. Going to bars with them. Inviting them to our house for large boisterous parties. And our house was absolutely perfect for that. At around 3800 square feet if you include the finished basement, it had all the room we could ever want for entertaining and I had all the time in the world to keep it clean. I wasn't working and, remember? We had no kids. We hosted Thanksgivings and Christmases and New Years Eves and random parties just for the heck of it. Which was great for awhile.
And then we had kids.
And everything changed. As it is like to do.
And in the beginning, that was fine. I could still keep up with our house and take care of our first born. I bought things that I thought she would like to play with. And we still had Thanksgivings and Christmases but New Years became more of a 'just the two of us' kind of thing after she went to bed.
And then we decided to have another baby. And everything changed again. As it is like to do.
We still do Thanksgivings and Christmases but there's usually a stash and dash in the week leading up to them instead of the months of meticulous planning that I used to do. Pre kids, I hand made my own invitations before and recipe book thank you gifts for everyone after Thanksgiving. With two little ones in the house, I forgot to get wine one year.
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| So cute, right? And yes. Those are hand embossed pumpkins. |
Little by little, our house began to fill with all of the stuff that can come with children: toys, gear, clothes. And then there was the other stuff that we 'needed'. More furniture, clothes, organizational items: bins and dividers and labels. Oh my! And before I knew it, I had packed our house full of all kinds of stuff we didn't need, didn't use and couldn't take care of. Instead of spending my time taking care of our kids, I was spending my time taking care of our stuff. I couldn't do both of them well and my kids were losing out because of it. I would snap at them because there was too much on my to do list and I couldn't get it all done. The mopping, dusting, organizing, clearing out and restocking was just too much for me.
And that was one of the reasons I wanted a smaller house. There were other reasons of course. Smaller houses have smaller bills. I was finally ready to have neighbors so our girls could play and I could socialize. I wanted to be able to play in a yard and walk out my door and go for a run without having to drive somewhere.
So we decided to downsize and are currently in the process of moving. Which is a very interesting journey to say the least.
Unearthing all of the unnecessary stuff is truly mind boggling to me. We probably quartered our stuff in preparation for the listing and showings that come along with that. Now that we've bought our next house - which is literally half the size of our current house - I'm going through things again and trying to be more drastic with my purging. It's easy and difficult at the same time. There are things that I don't know why I ever bought or accepted and then there are things that I can't imagine parting with. I know this won't be the last culling that we'll have to do. We'll sell furniture that we don't need anymore when we move and I can envision me spending much of the winter and spring going through boxes in the basement and tossing more unneeded things.
But the question still remains... How much is "enough"? I'm working on finding out just how little can fulfill that idea but I'm a product of the 80s and I think I may always be a material girl at my core. I'm fighting it with every third breath. (The other two seem to find me in the land of the hundred dollar receipt buying things I'll regret in four years.) A lifetime of materialism and the quest for the next best or necessary or 'this will make me happy' thing are not easily left behind. I have days when it seems so simple and possible to live in the moment and remove everything that doesn't serve me and others where I feel so inadequate that stopping between shopping venues to consider that fact is utterly impossible so I just continue from one meaningless purchase to another. Busy sometimes feels better than introspective.
So I'm making a 'new phase of life' resolution. Even if I know there's a good chance I won't keep it and perhaps because I know there's a good chance I won't keep it. I resolve to do my best to be mindful as often as I can manage. I resolve to not get caught up in feelings of inadequacy that send me into a shopping frenzy. I resolve to ground myself in nature as often as necessary. And I resolve to start over again each and every time I fail.
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| My friend Kelley posted this on Facebook this morning and I thought it was so appropriate that I borrowed it! |
