miss minimalist » Real Life Minimalists

Real Life Minimalists: Mark in Toronto

miss minimalist — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 08:56:20 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

This week, we have a great contribution from Mark in Toronto. He tells us how a cross-country move started him on a minimalist path, and the benefits he’s experienced from an uncluttered life.

Mark writes:

Mark

After I graduated from college and moved to Vancouver, I brought what I needed in 2 suitcases. Since I didn’t have much money I had no need for stuff. Over time I changed apartments and had more roommates and was amazed at their junk! In the early 90s we called it junk — clutter was yet to come!

As I moved on, I started buying things for my own place (e.g., dishes, glassware, end tables, CDs, DVDs, etc.). I even bought useless kitchen gadgets — and I don’t cook! I had as much clutter as others and felt that I was a success because of it. I spent a lot of time shopping, buying, cleaning and it was taking me away from my enjoyment of life. I had to pay off the television and the furniture. Everything was geared towards paying off my stuff! And I barely enjoyed it.

Then came the moment that defined me: a cross-country move for a new job! Not knowing anyone in Toronto I had to divest myself of everything: television, bed, pots and pans, etc. I felt torn but then I rationalized that maybe this was necessary for a new life.

I started over and only bought what I needed — a futon and some books and CDS. I was happy. I didn’t have to worry about stuff! I lived in a small space and even had empty cupboards.

After I met my a partner and later moved in with him, I gave what I owned to charity (e.g., futon, clothes, CDs, DVDs, books). Over a period of time I started to feel that things don’t make you happy — relationships do! I took a hard look at the stuff I did have (old school papers, photos, awards) and pared them down to just 3!

Your blog has made me focus on what was necessary. In my environment if we don’t use it, it goes (I check with him of course first). I can look at a mall but now I have the willpower to avoid buying another DVD boxed set.

By clearing out your clutter you become more open to the world around you. I go to lectures and read books instead of park myself in front of the television. I sometimes do yoga and don’t feel like I have to buy more workout clothes! I even opened myself up to the opera!

Minimalism to me means freedom from consumerism, freedom to live my life on my terms away from the Joneses. My partner has his stuff and I respect that. But I am aware of what I need in my surroundings — flow and peace.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Real Life Minimalists: Leslie from Texas

miss minimalist — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 08:47:00 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

Today, I’m excited to share this story from Leslie from Texas: she’s made a remarkable transformation after being an avid collector for 30+ years. Very inspiring!

Leslie writes:

I guess I have always been a collector – as a child it was dolls and plastic horses; as an adult I moved on to dishes, vintage glassware, crystal, antiques, candles, and various knick-knacks of all kinds. It always seemed normal because my parents were collectors too. I love finding bargains, so shopping and decorating were my favorite hobbies. It was such a thrill to find cute and interesting things to bring home, especially vintage items. I enjoyed organizing and arranging my displays and thinking of how people would react when they came into my home – I wanted it to be beautiful. (I loved your article about the “fantasy self” because that was exactly me! I started aquiring dishes as a teenager to use “someday” when I would be grown-up and married!).

When I finally got married, we combined two complete households so we had china cabinets full of vintage glassware and crystal and pretty things all around the house (some I still had from childhood). Our closets were full, the kitchen cabinets were overflowing with five (yes 5) complete sets of dishes, countless drinking glasses, flatware, cookware, etc. My husband was the same way – he collected “guy things” all his life (tools, gadgets, equipment for various hobbies) and he never wanted to get rid of anything in case he ever needed it again. We couldn’t even park in our oversized 2-car garage because it was so full of stuff!

Then earlier this year we decided to downsize to a much smaller home. My first plan was to get rid of a few extra things (mostly odds & ends) and keep my best collections, then I started reading your blog over the summer and your articles were so inspiring… it finally dawned on me that I don’t NEED to collect anything! After that, I was on a roll – posting items on Craigslist, having yard sales, donating to charity… We sold the china cabinets and all the pretty glassware, knick-knacks, books, kitchen gadgets (we had 3 crock pots!), and much more. Now we are down to ONE set of dishes, there are empty spaces in our cabinets and closets, and we only have the furniture we truly need. For the first time in my life I have no more collections! Our smaller home feels very spacious and comfortable, but it’s not perfect yet – the garage still needs work. My husband still has lots of tools and equipment, but he’s getting much better about scrapping (recycling) the stuff he will never use (and he even sold his trading card collection!).

It’s been a long process, but after 30+ years of being a collector, I finally gave up my “fantasy self”, and it feels great! Our home is nice, neat and simple, and my nephews can play without the worry that something might get broken. Sometimes I still fight the urge to shop for bargains, but I have learned to stay away from the thrift stores, and our non-cluttered house is so nice to come home to!

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Real Life Minimalists: Carrie

miss minimalist — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 09:02:48 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

I think you’ll be inspired by this week’s story from Carrie, who’s pursuing a minimalist lifestyle with six children. Please visit her blog to learn more about how she does it.

Carrie writes:

My name is Carrie. I’m a wife, mom of 6 kids, a homeschooler, avid reader/writer/blogger.

While the word “minimalist” only recently became part of my vocabulary, I’ve always been one. As a kid, I remember my mom taking me shopping, and I would often tell her, “But I don’t need anything, Mom…” She thought that was funny.

When I was 12, my parents sold everything they owned (including a house full of beautiful antique furniture and my Dad’s business), and we took off for Ireland (somewhere we had never been) to live. That experience changed who I would grow up to be. It taught me that possessions really don’t define you or make you happy. Experiences, personal growth, and people are what make your life rich.

Even as a kid, I was uncomfortable with excess and with clutter. It’s only natural that as I became an adult and a mom, that I would continue with the same value system.

Minimalism has enabled me to have a larger than average family without going nutso. I keep our schedule very simple. My kids don’t do extracurricular activities as a rule. They read a LOT. We don’t have cable. In fact I didn’t have a TV until I married my husband (we use it once a week to rent a movie). My kids don’t own a lot of toys. They play together a lot.

Having a decluttered home is so much nicer to me. It really is true that when you don’t own a ton of stuff, you don’t really have to “organize”. With a family this size, things could get out of hand really quick if we were surrounded by too much stuff.

I find that setting limits with myself, limiting my choices, makes me happy. There are so many great ideas, so many awesome things that I could do. But then I wouldn’t have time to just sit outside in the sun and watch my kids play. These are some of my happiest moments. I recently permanently deleted my Facebook account. I felt relief. I’ll miss a few of the people on there, but I can always email or text them and say, “Hey let’s meet for coffee”, instead. I make choices like this all the time – to eliminate stuff to make room for better things. I never accept the status quo. I’m always asking myself how I can make things better, simpler.

One thing I have to work on is not being too frugal with myself. I am working on remembering the difference between price and value. I have a minimalist wardrobe, so I need to spend a little more on each piece so it lasts. (I despise shopping!)

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Real Life Minimalists: Grace

miss minimalist — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 08:43:58 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

Today, it’s my pleasure to share Grace’s story with you. I love the pioneer spirit she brings to her minimalist journey!

Grace writes:

Minimalism for me started at a very early age. I can clearly remember reducing my personal belongings to what would fit into a square metal “Mystery Date” lunch box. I was eleven and my health had progressively deteriorated due to a heart condition. The purpose of my doing this was to prevent my family from using my possessions as a vehicle for mourning if I were to die. Yes, somewhat morbid I will agree, but true.

A cowboy’s life was a model I admired. My ideas of cowboys came from television and movies that I devoured. The minimalism of a bed roll, a saddle bag and the stars over my head were the dreams that occupied my mind when I had to be alone and quiet while others were at play.

As I grew older books about pioneers fascinated me. It was intriguing to me that possessions once thought to be so important would often be discarded as the journey became more difficult. What did they ultimately keep? What would they eventually replace? What did they regret?

Good fortune came my way a few years after I packed that square metal lunch box. With medical advances my condition improved. I then had a future. However, I kept the spirit of the cowboy and pioneer’s minimalism as an ideal.

I have experienced homeownership and all its responsibilities. With that responsibility there slowly grew a whole lot of stuff. Stuff for gardening, furnishing, maintenance and remodeling … Now, I live in an apartment; minimally but comfortably furnished. After 20 years of my spare time being occupied with maintaining possessions, my possessions now serve me. I am employing the lessons of the cowboy and pioneer’s minimalism in a manner that brings me joy and peace. I have also come to respect and include the minimalism of Japanese culture in my philosophy.

The spirit of minimalism has served me well. I have made two cross country moves in my 51 years and each time I have only brought with me the few items that I could carry in my car. The first move was to begin a new life with my husband. The second move was to return to my home state after my husband’s death. Each move I have gifted and donated my belongings to those that were grateful to receive. It’s a gift of freedom to live lightly. Like the pioneer I’ve learned to reassess my needs and wants. It allows me to focus on the blessings of clean sheets, a hot shower, healthy food, a fresh arrangement of flowers and a good book.

I envision that at some point in time my provisions will possibly fit into a saddlebag, but for now I am content.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Real Life Minimalists: Sara

miss minimalist — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 09:24:40 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

This week, we have a wonderful submission from Sara, who shares how minimalism has enabled her to pursue her passion of writing. Check out her blog, Life More Lived, to read more!

Sara writes:

Sara

I came to minimalism accidentally. Or so it felt at the time.

I was never a clutterer, but I definitely kept my fair share of “stuff” around. It was after I met my partner, and combined households with her, that I looked around and realized we had too much stuff. My minimalist journey started with a few books on simple living and an intense fascination with the minimalist blogs I read daily. When I focused my eyes on my own living space I knew something needed to shift. And that something was “stuff”.

A major declutter ensued. I began Life More Lived in the first few months, and immediately felt two things: incredible relief from the yoke of possessions and an amazing amount of interest/support from my community.

As months passed and I sold/gave away/donated furniture, clothing, books, CDs, jewelry, artwork, dishes, and everything else unnecessary (which was a lot), a much more subtle shift occurred. Minimalism left the surface and spread deeper: I established a more committed yoga practice, took up meditation, and re-embraced my creative life. I’ve always been a creative person, and writing has long been my expression of that. Suddenly, without stuff to purchase, clean, store, and maintain I had plenty of time to write. And write I did. Last November I began a novel, and almost a year later, I’m proud to say I’m close to finishing (the first draft of) it.

For most of my twenties I struggled through building what I thought an “adult-life” should look like. I was supposed to have furniture. And a good wardrobe. And bookshelves full of the tomes I’d read. And a nice car. And a good job. There was no place for my creativity in that lifestyle. No place for what truly mattered in the face of societal expectations.

Giving all of that up has been an incredible journey. It’s hard for me to decide if what is most amazing is where it has taken me or where it hasn’t taken me. I thought I’d travel more. I thought I’d downsize to a smaller house. Neither has happened. What has happened is a profound sense of well being and belonging in my life as it is. What has happened is the courage to pursue a life goal (writing) that feeds my soul unendingly.

I’ve embraced the simplicity of minimalism—the ease with which I can now inhabit my space and my waning desire for “more.” From that simplicity has grown a profound appreciation for what I have. From minimalism has grown a life that suits me, a life I am proud to live. From an uncluttered home and clean closets to a daily writing practice and a novel. Heady stuff, minimalism is.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Real Life Minimalists: Kris

miss minimalist — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 09:18:40 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

I think you’ll find today’s story from Kris very inspirational! She tells us how she’s pursuing a new career in human rights—and how minimalism helped make it happen. Please visit her blog, Saying Yes, to learn more.

Kris writes:

Hi! I’m Kris and I’ve been slowly minimizing for about five years now, and I made the biggest leap this summer.

Five years ago I was a frustrated lower-level marketing account manager for extended warranties. Today I’m a 39-year-old first year Ph.D. student studying solutions in human trafficking and modern-day slavery. The bug to make this change began when I first learned about these issues five years ago through contact with International Justice Mission. I’d been frustrated for 13 years with trying to claw my way up to middle management and yet still feeling empty. At the time I also had deep credit card debt, a car payment and had just taken on a mortgage. But on becoming aware of this systemic oppression and violent exploitation of the vulnerable in our world, I knew I was supposed to make a big change. I didn’t know how, or to what, but I was going to do it. It was going to happen.

I started by making a financial plan that included renting out the second bedroom in my new condo and aggressively paying off all the non-mortgage debt. While doing that, I prepared for the LSAT and GRE and investigated grad schools because my business career was not enough to break into work with a human rights NGO. I also began shedding my stuff. My debt was paid off in 14 months, after which I built up some savings to prepare me for leaving full-time work during what turned out to be the start of the recession, and I started my MPA at the local state university in 2009. I had made decisions from fear for 35 years, and I decided that this time nothing was going to stop me. I wasn’t going to let the coming of this economic transformation deter me. I’d had enough of having my dreams deterred. It was time now for faith.

During my master’s program I continued to shed possessions. I was a regular at the Good Will donation site, and also sold and gave things away. I was frustrated with still having to keep my car and mortgage and the worries associated with them until after graduation – but during grad school I’d also made my way to Nepal for a human rights volunteer stint and had a marvelous internship with International Justice Mission. Those experiences showed me that I need better research skills for the policy work I was getting into so I began looking at PhD programs. I got accepted to my dream program (miraculously) in April, in a city 800 miles from where I was living, so then I had to start planning how I was going to get rid of the condo and car for the move. After over four years of gradually moving to minimalism, I was prepared to really take the plunge this past May.

This summer I got rid of about 85 percent of what was left of my stuff. I sold my car. This week I finally closed on the sale of my condo. I now live in a little furnished studio apartment within walking distance of everything I need, and I use my trusty metro card to get around outside the neighborhood the few times I don’t choose walking. All of my belongings now fit in the back of an SUV. And I don’t miss any of that crap.

I can now focus on my spiritual life and my human rights work. By the time I finish my four years here, I’ll be able to fit my life in a couple of duffle bags and go wherever the work takes me. This would have been impossible without minimalism.

I am no longer owned by my stuff. I can’t even describe the freedom that comes with that. I am full of gratitude and wonder about the world and the possibilities inherent in it.

Om Mani Padme Hum.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Real Life Minimalists: Tyler

miss minimalist — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 08:51:59 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

This week we hear from Tyler, who tells us how the words of his philosophy professor inspired him to follow a minimalist path. His story is a wonderful illustration of mindfulness when it comes to possessions.

Tyler writes:

“The problem with society,” my 64-year-old philosophy professor opined, “is that we aren’t materialistic enough.”

Making this statement in the middle of a senior-level philosophy class was jolting to say the least. He continued.

“Materialism, in its essence, is about appreciating things- items. When I was a young boy in Norway, I had a neighbor who was a carpenter. My parents both worked and so when I got home from school I would often go over to his workshed and watch him build chairs, benches, railings and all manner of wonderful things. He put so much concentration, energy and pride into everything he build. I can remember him now, bent over, nose almost on the piece of wood he was shaving, checking the level and ensuring that it was carved to perfection. It was obvious that to him this thing, this object, made of wood, lacquer and sweat, had meaning. It was, ultimately, never more than a chair or table, but it represented and contained something wonderful. Craft. Appreciation. Here was a piece of wood that was now something to be used and cherished in everyday life. And his tools? I remember his tools. He had a hammer that looked like it was a hundred years old. I asked him about it once and he told me, ‘This hammer was my great grandfather’s. He left it to my grandfather, who left it to my father, who left it to me. I have to polish it regularly, and from time to time, refashion the handle when it gets too worn.’

His screwdriver? ‘Ah yes, a gift from my wife’s family. It had been her grandfather’s. He used it every day till he died.’

The saw? The hole punch? The level? All were ancient and prestigious in lineage. All took hours of work every year to keep them serviceable. Finally, I spotted a set of pliers and, picking them up, inquired what ancestor they had come from. My neighbor’s face sagged and with disappointment dripping from his voice he said, ‘Oh… those. Those are new.’

Last week I needed a screwdriver. I know I own at least 4, but I looked all over but couldn’t find one. Calling for my wife I asked if she knew were the screwdriver was. ‘Which one,’ she asked.

‘Any of them.’

‘I haven’t seen them.’

‘Oh well. I guess I will go buy another.’

That isn’t materialism. That is consumerism. The two are no longer complimentary, they are adversarial. Consumerism says, ‘Buy me. Own me. More more more. Then in a week when you’ve lost me or I quit working, get another one.’

Materialism says, ‘Appreciate me. Take care of me. Do right by me and I will do right by you. Treat me well and I will be the only one you will ever need.’ ”

As he spoke I realized what he was talking about was a life in which you didn’t own more than you needed and loved that which you owned. It is a lesson I sadly forgot, just as he did with the passing years. But I’m starting to remember. I’ve already thrown out about half of what I own, identified the things that really matter and started taking care of them the way they deserve. I thank him for that.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Real Life Minimalists: Heather

miss minimalist — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 09:03:36 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

Today, Heather shares with us a story of near-disaster. She tells us how the experience changed her perspective on “stuff,” and strengthened her commitment to a minimalist lifestyle.

Heather writes:

I have always considered myself a fairly simple person, so when I started reading about minimalism about six months ago, it really struck a chord with me. My husband had actually been after me for a while to get rid of some of our “stuff.” One day I read “Organized Simplicity” by Tsh Oxenreider, and I haven’t looked back. I went through the house one room at a time, top to bottom. My husband and I each gave away a 39-gallon bag of clothes. I consolidated my beauty supplies into a single small drawer (fairly easy since I don’t use makeup). We sold some of our furniture and rearranged what was left. We pulled out nearly half a kitchen’s worth of unused cookware (why do we have two Dutch ovens?). I tore up and disposed of my old scrapbook. The hardest part was our book collection. We are both avid readers and each have two shelves of college textbooks. We have four floor-to-ceiling bookcases holding over a thousand books. We culled about 150 and are selling them on Amazon and Half. We each have Kindles now, so we are not adding new books as frequently, but there is still a long way to go. Overall, I was quite happy with the progress we made. It was, as so many new minimalists say, liberating.

And then disaster struck. Our state’s largest wildfire raged less than two miles from our home. The whole town was told to evacuate. In the few hours we had to pack, we were told to pack the six Ps: People, Pets, Prescriptions, Personal Computers, Papers, and Photos. We packed three suitcases of clothes and personal items for the four of us. We grabbed our photo albums and pulled photos out of their frames. We found our insurance papers, titles and such, all thankfully located in the same place. Two laptops and the backup for the main computer. Medicine. Diapers and toys for the two kids. Carriers, food and litter for the four cats. Everything and everyone fit into a small wagon and a sedan with a Thule. We lived for a week with a friend, wondering if our house would be there when we got back, wondering if what we brought with us would be everything we owned. But something strange went on in my head: I was okay with that. If we lost our house, so what? If we lost our massive collection of books, or the China from our wedding, or even my original drawings, so what? We had everything we needed: each other.

In the few months since we returned to our unscorched home, I’ve been slowly getting rid of more things. I’m in the process of scanning all our photographs and documents, so if we ever have to evacuate again I can just grab a couple disks. I think this cleaning out has had an effect on my daughter. As her birthday was approaching, she started cleaning out her room, giving toys to her little brother, to make room for new things. Her room is always tidy now without my having to ask. I even managed to convince my family to swap charitable donations for Christmas instead of physical gifts (thank you Miss Minimalist for that suggestion!).

I have also been trying to simplify my life. Being a stay-at-home mom, my life isn’t very complicated. I don’t have a lot of commitments, and I won’t make my kids (15 months and 5 years) have a full schedule. Down time is important. I am still stressed occasionally, but not nearly as much as I used to be. I’m still new to this whole minimalism thing, but it has already made a significant positive effect on my life.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Real Life Minimalists: Sancho

miss minimalist — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 08:29:16 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

It’s my pleasure this week to introduce you to Sancho—who, after an experiment in minimalist living this past summer, was inspired to continue paring down his possessions and living with less. Check out his blog to learn more!

Sancho writes:

I’ve had the chance to live minimally this summer. I moved to Mountain View for three months and decided to bring and buy only what I really needed. I ended up bringing 66 things and acquiring a few more. The first advantage was the ease of getting to, from, and around the airports. Minimalist travel makes for a much nicer experience: less or no checked baggage, actually being able to fit your things into the overhead compartment, and ability to use public transport at either end. My minimalist travel strategy also gave me more freedom during my first week in a new city, letting me couchsurf while finding a more permanent place. Because I didn’t have many things, I ended up renting a small room for a price that most people don’t think exists in Silicon Valley. It’s been great to see how close I’ve come to living with only what I’ve needed. This experience will definitely influence me when I return home to my Vancouver apartment.

My conversion to minimalism began when I started using David Allen’s Getting Things Done (GTD) method. The initial processing of my things had me discard many of them. Among these were an old cell phone and a $4 winning lottery ticket that could only be cashed in 2000 km away. This was the most satisfying part of my introduction to GTD: getting rid of stuff. I never stopped. I got rid of stuff, then got rid of the storage. I got rid of more stuff, then got rid of more storage. I discarded so much that I moved into a smaller apartment in the same building because I just didn’t need the space. In addition to discarding things, I’ve also pruned areas of responsibility from my life that distract from a small number of important goals, another carry-over from GTD.

What drives my minimalism is a desire for focus and freedom. Every item brings with it a small need for space, care, and attention. Books need bookshelves, clothing needs cleaning, and electronics need updating… Minimalism in my things and in my priorities helps me dedicate resources and attention to what is important to me.

This summer has been a fun experiment and I hope to bring what I’ve learned back to my already semi-minimalist life in Vancouver. What other microcosms of minimalism have you encountered?

You can read more about what I’ve discarded, the 92 things I ended up with this summer, and other ideas on minimalism and productivity at http://sanchom.wordpress.com/category/productivity/.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Real Life Minimalists: Amber

miss minimalist — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 09:08:01 +0000

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

Today, I’m excited to share Amber’s story with you. She’s embracing a minimalist lifestyle to realize her dream: living out of a backpack and traveling around the world. Surf on over to her blog to follow her adventures.

Amber writes:

Amber

In 2007, fresh out of college I moved to Tokyo with a suitcase and carry-on. I didn’t have much accumulated and what I did have I sent back to Seattle for Storage. While in Tokyo I taught English as a second language and spent some time traveling South East Asia. It was an incredible experience which unfortunately ended abruptly when the company I worked for went bankrupt, leaving me homeless and broke in Japan. With, what felt like, no other choice at the time, back to Seattle I went.

Feeling defeated by my life’s dream of international travel and living in foreign lands I sucked it up and pursued the American Dream. I got a corporate job. Having moved my things from one place to another roughly 18 times in the span of 2 years I had had enough. Settled was what I yearned for.

So settled is what I got. My corporate job moved me from Seattle to Austin and then Austin to Orange County where I finally made myself a nest in a lovely two bedroom condo near the beach and began collecting my things. Let me be clear: I LOVE my home and my things. I’ve spent the past two years creating a beautifully decorated space that I genuinely enjoy. But it was not enough.

That burning desire for distant lands, exotic scenery and new adventures started calling once again. The mundane corporate job and politics became overbearingly mind numbing and suddenly settled wasn’t as glamorous and comforting as it once appeared.

That’s when I decided “I have to get out of here!” For the past year I have been planning a round the world adventure. It is not a trip, it is an ADVENTURE for I have no set itinerary or for that matter no set plan to return! I began selling my things last month and at times it has been hard. I found myself almost in tears over letting go of my favorite gold Saks bag. I realized that was just the cold feet talking and I shouldn’t be listening to my feet when my soul is telling me to let go and GO!

It’s definitely not easy though when everyone around you thinks you’re crazy for getting rid of all your possessions. Constantly questioning your reasoning for purging of things, as if it were your first born rather than your fancy toothbrush holder that you were selling to a stranger. Planting seeds of doubt in your mind. You start to wonder, maybe I should hold on to these things, place them in storage in case I need them if and when I come back, but really how logical is that?

Sure my things are lovely and have brought me joy over the years, but things are just that, things. Experiences are priceless. Priceless moments are what life should be made of. So as I sell my things and prepare to embark on the adventure of a lifetime I look forward to the priceless.

Things have a hold on you and often times that hold can keep you from chasing your dreams. I am certain there will be times that I feel homesick, but I am more confident that what I am going to gain from this journey will be worth more than what I left behind. So here I am selling my things, preparing to quit my career and move into a backpack.

I am preparing to quit the American Dream for a Life Untethered! I would be so pleased if you joined me along the way at www.nowpanicandfreakout.com. My greatest achievement would be if this blog and my story brings inspiration to just one person to truly change their way of thinking, change their life and chase their dream. It doesn’t have to be travel, it just has to be yours.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}