This year I have probably gone through the most dramatic personal changes than any before, and I don’t mean outside circumstances or anything of that sort. I mean me, just as a person. I’ve reexamined my life, my goals, and my desires, and there is one thing that I can say for sure that I want: simplicity. I have different definitions for things than I used to. Mostly I have learned to listen to myself and not ignore what I hear. I spent a very long time in my life trying to explain things to myself that I knew I couldn’t and it is really difficult to have a good relationship with yourself when you are constantly telling yourself to shut up.
This blog is definitely heading down a very different road than I thought it would when I first decided to set up a blog that connects to my shop, but hey… go where it takes ya, right?
So on my journey to better understanding myself, I have discovered that I truly have an appreciation for simplicity, for the spaces in between things, for a little more space in between everything! It’s a process. I had a big involuntary emptying out of my life, and in that couple of days that I had to very seriously decide what was so super important that I could not get by without it, I found that the answer was very little.
This is my car. Basically, I could only take what would fit in the trunk and backseat of this little tiny car. I absolutely adore my car. It is perfect for me. It’s tiny, it’s very economical, and its better for the environment. But if you have ever looked inside the trunk of a prius c you know it is about the size of a glove box. Lulu Blue and I had to sort through everything we had acquired over the course of our lives and keep only as much as we could fit in here. And we did. and I understood that it was infinitely more important to fit her stuff than mine, so I was completely ruthless in my selection process. And the only thing I miss out of everything that I left is… my cookbook. My notebook in which I wrote every recipe that I love. That’s it. everything else is just… whatever. I suffered over this for months. Seriously. I cried over all the stuff, all the clothes, the little knick knacks that were over every surface of my apartment. Each one of them had a memory attached to it. Funny enough, I still have the memories, so I guess I didn’t really need all the stuff. But I definitely mourned. And then I stopped being mad and I really realized how little I needed all that stuff and how much less I had to worry about. I mean, yes. I have a whole different set of things to worry about now, but they aren’t meaningless things and that’s really awesome.
Okay, okay. I am done going on and on. The point is that I love the fact that I have the things I most care about. The little blanket I made out of pieces of Lulu Blue’s baby clothes. The ring that belonged to my great-grandmother. The little art prints I picked up in Spain. Things that give me so much pleasure. It feels very intentional. This is good.
In case you want to try something similar, here are a few ideas for you. start small! Just cause I had to rip the bandaid off, doesn’t mean you need to.
This is really just a way to remind myself of what really matters in my life. It’s not stuff. I will hang on to my Lulu Blue blanket for the rest of my life, and the ring, too. And then I will give them to Lulu Blue. And there are some other things I am sure that I will acquire over the years, but I feel better knowing that (for the most part) I can probably keep from getting a bunch of stuff that is not going to add to my happiness. Here is to living small.