I just loaded up my car with bags and boxes for a garage sale today—not mine, of course, because of all the things in the world I’m terrible at, running a garage sale might be the true bottom—first thing in the morning, I get overly excited, and then I lose interest at noon and starting giving things away for free. By three in the afternoon I’m longing for a margarita and a shower. I’m the worst, I tell you.
One of the key words for this season is LESS—less everything. Less stuff, certainly. I have been feeling overgrown in my apartment the last few months so as I move into a blank space, I’m on the best kind of bender—a “get rid of it” spree. It feels so much better to live in an uncluttered space, doesn’t it?
And it feels so much better to live in an uncluttered mind. I’m simplifying all over the place right now, clarifying my contributions to various teams and projects. Being more intentional with quality time spent with people. Focusing on my own stripped down, raw, beautiful truth. I’m inching out of all sorts of things, re-drawing the lines, making things smaller. Less, less, less.
There are seasons for more—frankly, most of my seasons are seasons of more. It’s my personality, my nature. More experiences, more meals, more music, more trips, more stuff, more laughter, more playing, more people. More books, more skirts, more flip flops, more champagne. More, more, more.
But being a grown-up, it seems, is stretching yourself out into new ways of living, bending into new postures, training new muscle memory instead of slipping into the same old story.
My nature is MORE, but this season is LESS. Paring down to barer bones, making space, scraping away. It feels so healthy, so right, so necessary.
Less, less, less.
This is bravery for me. I love big stories, ones that involve passports and mountains and adventures. But sometimes being courageous means less, quieter, stiller, smaller.
That’s the scary spot for me: will I be bored? Will I be lonely? Will the quiet freak me out? Will I be able to write that book?
I’ve built (and depended on) a life that’s screaming loud, whirling, fast….so I never have to pay attention to those questions. But they’re the ones that matter in this season. So I’m making space, getting rid of all sorts of things. I’m re-drawing the boundary lines, pulling them in close. Less, less, less.
What does courage look like in your life this season?
It’s all connected: our stuff and our dreams and our fears. Clean out a drawer and you’ll find your attachments and longings. Let go of the half-finished projects or drawers full of art-y things you intended to get to all year long, and what you’ll find is a little more breathing room. That’s what this is about: clearing away all the excess to make space for what needs to come to life.
This upcoming weekend, I’ll be moved in officially. Labor Day Weekend is the celebration of an amazing summer of Growth and Wings but the start of my own personal fall- of stripping down and taking things a little slower, a little cozier.
And I’ll spend this lovely season with less, less, less ringing in my mind. I’ll read the few books I have chosen to save, instead of buying an armload more. I’ll wear my favorite perfectly worn flip-flops, and reduce my vanity time in the mornings to even less- product, time, criticism. Lightness all around.
Some of the things I’m letting go of: clothes that make me feel terrible. And relationships that do the same. Unmet expectations, pressures, people who want things from me I can’t give.
Simplicity, space, limitations. These are healthy things. Clearing away space in the drawers, clearing away space in my mind and heart for the season to come.