miss minimalist

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

This week, I’m pleased to feature Heidi J. I just love this story of how she decluttered a former creative pursuit! Check out her blog, knithappiness, to read more.

Heidi writes:

Inspired by Real Life Minimalist Robert Hickman.

I started reading Miss Minimalist last June, after devouring Francine’s book, “The Joy of Less.” Reading the blog weekly, helped me move along on my journey of reducing the unnecessary from my life. I found pure simple joy in decluttering room by room, reducing my wardrobe to 30 pieces of well fitting clothing, and wading through unused kitchen gadgets.

Once my house was clean and well-organized, I knew I still had a huge task looming on the horizon: removing the many unfinished quilts from the back bedroom closet. I had abandoned quilting several years ago and moved on to my new love: knitting. I didn’t know how to go about getting rid of all the unfinished quilts. My perfectionist personality is such that I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied unless I finished the quilts before purging them from my home. I pulled out my sewing machine and got to work. As I pulled each quilt from it’s neat little box, I found that many of them were quite beautiful. I was no longer in love with them, but they were beautiful all the same.

In July, Miss Minimalist featured “Real Life Minimalist Robert Hickman.” Robert’s story of being a “creator” really spoke to me. Robert said, “I came to realise that I didn’t need everything I had ever created. My ability is in me, constantly improving. But my creations are static, quickly losing their relevance. Now, if you think purging excess clothing is difficult, try separating from the truly irreplaceable. Things which reflect hundreds of hours of your life and represent many happy memories.” That’s exactly where I was at with my quilts. But. .. if Robert could do it and was happier for it, then I could too!

With help from some of my friends at work, I coordinated a Tea Party/Quilt Show. The party was in honor of my Grandmother who had passed away in 2007. Grandma was always working with her hands and had taught each of her granddaughters the value of being creative. I am blessed and thankful for that gift that Grandma passed on, as my life would never be complete without my hands moving and my mind mulling over my creative fiber pursuits.

This past Saturday all 24 ladies arrived at my door step for the quilt show and tea party. We had a sentimental toast to Grandma, enjoyed some delicious scones with devonshire cream, and looked at the kaleidoscope of quilts hanging on my living room/dining room walls. Each guest picked an envelope that contained a single scrap of fabric. Then the scavenger hunt began. Each person quickly matched her little fabric square to the corresponding quilt. After each quilt was matched with a guest, I announced that as an aspiring minimalist, each guest could take home the quilt that she had “found.” Everyone squealed with delight!

I giggled as they traipsed down the steps with their quilts and my walls were once again empty. The empty walls are a reminder of the smiles on each of my guest’s face, and a promise to myself that it’s best to let go of the past and that which stifles our never ending creativity.

{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.}

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

Today we hear from Brasilicana, who reduced her possessions to the airline’s baggage allowance for her international move. Please visit her blog to learn more about her life in Brazil.

Brasilicana writes:

Brasilicana

I’ve always had minimalist tendencies; I was never one to accumulate lots of clothes or knickknacks. Throughout my young adulthood, I preferred spending my money on travel and experiences rather than on acquiring things.

However, the true test of my convictions came when I got married and moved to Brazil.

I could only take what I could fit into the airline’s baggage allowance of two 70-pound suitcases plus a carry-on. Suddenly, it wasn’t about selecting which items to get rid of – it was about selecting which items would come with me, and all the rest would be thrown away, given away, or else would stay behind. I felt like I was experiencing a real-life version of, “If you were shipwrecked on a desert island, which three things would you like to have with you?”

The easiest things to part with were all my winter clothes – that was a no-brainer, since I wouldn’t need them in the tropical climate. The hardest were my books. Despite performing triage and donating about half my collection, I still filled one of my suitcases entirely with those that remained.

So I arrived in Brazil to start my new life with two weeks of clothing, a laptop and camera, a few personal items, and 70 pounds of books. I did leave some things behind at my parents’ house, but now that I’ve been separated from those possessions for nearly a year, I neither miss them nor remember what they are!

My husband and I rented a basic furnished apartment and decided that we would only acquire things for our new household if we discovered we really needed them. We’ve found that we need internet, a pressure cooker to make the famous Brazilian rice and beans, and a fan for the hot summer nights – and we’re doing just fine without cable TV, a washing machine, or a car.

Our home is one of love, joy, and simplicity – and someday, when we take off to travel the world, those are three things we’ll definitely be taking along!

{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.}

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

This week, Karen writes from the Philippines. She’s applying a minimalist philosophy not only to her possessions, but also to her relationships and career. Check out her blog to learn more.

Karen writes:

Karen

Hello guys! I’m Karen, 23 years old and I live in the Philippines with my family! I am a minimalist before I knew what it is called. From time to time, I’ve been de-cluttering my collection of letters and journal books. I also see to it that my closet is not always full.

But then again, I’m just like any other girl who runs in the mall and ends up buying something I don’t really need. Unlike my mother and sister, I can’t stay the whole day at boutiques. And though I’m not the typical shopaholic, it doesn’t stop me from acquiring clutters in my life.

It was last February when my friend, Miss Gorgeous Green introduced me to Miss Francine Jay’s blog (right here!). I’ve read everything from the beginning and I felt the strong urge in me to live it up!

The emotional part of my minimalist journey is to realize the worth of people in my life. I began to weigh every relationship I’m keeping with my friends. Then I realized I have been spending so much effort and time with too many one-way relationships that I tend to lose valuable times I should have spent with the ones I care the most and loves me back. So I started spending time for my closest friends and tried to forget those who don’t need me as much. I’m a sucker of guilty feelings! I hate leaving any individual out of my life. But then the idea of keeping away from them has opened new doors of friendship that are worth to keep!

The best part is the personal life perspective breakthrough. I’m just a high school graduate who has so many dreams in life. I must admit that some of them are just vain dreams resulted from people expectations and envying. Through the years, I lived in fear of taking up any course that I wouldn’t love and end up giving up.
With the minimalism philosophy, I was able to focus on what I really want. I am now working online with the only thing that I really love doing: writing. Since I didn’t take up any college degree, I wish to earn and save to fund my studies in college. I know I’ve wasted enough years but it’s not too late to start dreaming big for my future!

In living as a minimalist, I aspire to inspire more youth out there who are lost in these fast paced generation…

My blog address is: adequate-existence.blogspot.com – I talk about my life as a minimalist, dreamer and ways I do to achieve my dreams – my hope is to inspire more young adults like me!

{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.}

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 very interesting story from Louisa Rogers . She tells us how she’s tackling a particularly difficult decluttering challenge—the journals she’s kept since childhood. (Louisa also has a website, if you’d like to learn more about her.)

Louisa writes:

Louisa

The year I was nine, I received my first diary. It was pink and pocket-size, with a gold latch and key. I recorded what I got for my birthday (a Tower watch), my teachers (Miss Eckhert and Mr. Brow), and which sister won the game of Monopoly (Arabella).

Fifty years later, I still keep a journal. On its lined pages I ask, plan, dream, storm and mull. Journaling has been my partner all my life. Exploring my meandering thoughts on the written page is not just helpful, it is purgative. And fun. My life would be thinner without the call of the open page.

Over the years I amassed cartons and cartons of journals that I schlepped from town to town, state to state, and country to country. I keep the journals, well, because you do. What’s the point, otherwise? They’re the record of my life. They’re, um, “me.”

Every once in awhile, over the years, I would think of the dusty cartons taking up more and more shelf space down in a myriad of basements, and imagining them gone, a sense of freedom and weightlessness would come over me. I mentioned this to my sister, who has planted herself deep in the same plot of North Carolina soil for 35 years. “But you can’t throw your journals away!” said Jane. “You can’t! I’ll store them for you!”

“What, ship them all to you?” I said, idly wondering which would be cheaper—USPS, UPS or FedEx? Any way I did it, sending them all the way from California would be an expensive embarrassment.

Keeping a journal is one thing; revisiting it is another. On the rare occasion when I descend into the cave of an old journal, I usually surface feeling morose, relieved to be back in the sunlight. All that drama! All that venting! True, every once in, oh, 30 pages, I’ll come upon an absolute pearl, and I’ll think, “God, I was brilliant!” But then, along with that comes, “But where did that brilliance go? How come I keep forgetting?”

I debated for years (all the while accumulating yet more journals) letting go of them. Always, I hesitated. I respect the value of documentation. Where would history be without records? And who knows? Maybe 100 years from now someone might come upon my journals and read with rapt interest what life was like in the 60s, 70s and 80s, just as we read diaries of the pioneers, or Civil War memoirs.

Plus, who would I be without my journals? On the other hand, letting go of them might set me free. That weightless feeling…

Back and forth I went. In one stage I tore out random pages from old journals and collaged them. But that only took care of a few pages.

Finally, somehow, I decided: for now, I’d keep all the journals up to age 30, and out of the rest, pick 15 to let go.

“How about selling them on eBay?” my husband said. Yes! Less final, less abrupt than dumping them. And I liked the idea of someone else taking care of them–at a price, even! And find them fascinating, I hoped. I imagined the reader (man? woman? either would do; I wasn’t picky) poring over my journal pages late at night, looking up occasionally and staring out of the window into the darkness, wondering about this mysterious, compelling woman.

Yes. Well. We can dream, right? I suspect the guy who wrote was hoping for something racier. He didn’t bite, and there was no late-hour bidding war.

So I gave my husband the 15 journals, with the agreement that if within two months, I had not asked for them back, he would ‘release’ them (the phrase ‘throw away’ made me wince). Out of respect for my earlier self, I tore out random pages and collaged them into my art journal. So who-I-was-then is grafted into my current life.

(For the record, I never did ask him for the journals. I forgot all about them. So they have met their maker.)

Fifteen journals lighter, fifteen pounds lighter. Now I only have another 60 or so to go….

Collage of Louisa's journal pages

{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.}

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 pleased to introduce you to Emily. She shares with us the lessons she’s learned living in Indonesia and Paris, and her current progress in her minimalist journey.

Emily writes:

Emily's apartment

My upbringing was split into two parts – the period of plenty, and the period of frugality.

When I was very young, we lived as expatriates in Indonesia and got used to a life of luxury. Buying what we wanted when we wanted seemed completely natural. I remember finding it difficult to think of presents to get my Dad for Christmas because every time he wanted or needed something, he would just go out and buy it.

But then in my teens, my father was made redundant and frugality became the buzzword of the household. During this time, we still lived very well, but we definitely had to make choices. Each purchase was considered in terms of its true value, which meant we quickly came to exchange possessions for experiences, and scale down luxuries. We would choose visits to the theatre over new clothes, and holidays would be to visit relatives rather than stays in expensive hotels. I would love to say that I embraced this new frugal way of living, but to be honest, I was too concerned with what I was missing out on versus my friends.

Having experienced these two different worlds, you would have thought that I would have embraced frugal living in my adult life. But when I left home and had my own money to spend, I did so recklessly. I think I thought it would never end. I bought books, thinking that the more I owned, the cleverer I would become. I filled drawers and shelves with DVDs that I would watch only once. I felt a real desire to own things, and for my possessions to reflect me and my personality. I subscribed to endless magazines that I never found the time to read.

At the beginning of this year, I finally felt the need to reverse this trend. I came across the blog Zen Habits, which lead me to several other minimalist blogs including Miss Minimalist. The lessons from these blogs offered me a lifeline.

I had moved to Paris 6 months previously, and as my company offered to pay for shipping, I had brought everything with me. After 6 months in a tiny Paris apartment, falling over and drowning in my stuff, I finally decided it was time to start pairing down. I started with the easiest things – kitchen equipment, accumulated junk and the clothes I never wore. I sold my DVD collection on Amazon and signed up for the local video store. With every item that left the apartment, I felt a little lighter, a little more in control. Photos were scanned and stored on my computer, along with important documents. I saved my books until last, knowing they would be the hardest to part with, but now, 3 bookshelves down, I feel great! My library card takes up significantly less space, and I never have to feel guilty about not having read the books I own. I am also buying less, and have managed to get debt-free and even start saving.

But all this is only the first stage. The next step for me is decluttering my time commitments and learning to say ‘No’. My current job, which is certainly not my passion, takes up around 60 hours every week. In February I’ll start a part-time Master’s degree to lead to a career change, which although will take up more time in the short term, should lead to having a more fulfilling career in the long term. So, in the meantime I need to cut out all the unnecessary commitments to be able to focus on the things I love to do like writing, reading and exercising. This is my minimalist goal for the following year!

{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.}

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.}

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.}

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.}

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.}

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.}