Blank Walls

I have three kids. Kids are a blessing. One of them destroys all of my stuff. She’s great, but she literally destroys things.

Proof

People are driven to certain ideas out of curiosity, passion, or desire. But, sometimes people are driven to places out of necessity. In my case, this journey stems from the latter.

A little over a year ago I read a book about decluttering that “sparked” an interest in owning less. Like many, I dabbled in decluttering. I organized a lot. I shovelled junk into bins and drawers pretending it was minimzing. To be honest, I spent a lot of time moving all the stuff inside my house to different places inside my house. Then we remodeled.

We spent the better part of a year walking through trails of waist high bins and boxes, barely making it out alive. I recovered though. We recovered. Our house was peaceful once again.

That’s when my two year old flooded both of our bathrooms.

Little Monster

She means well, and I love her more than my house. Having said that, water is a disastrous necessity. After living an unexpected extra six weeks without a bathroom, laundry room, inside a filthy construction zone, my threshold for stuff didn’t just lower — it totally disappeared.

This is where my journey began — or begins. Minimalism means a lot of different things to a lot of different people, so says the Internet. To me, it’s about getting rid of the physical stuff that weighs me down and replacing it with memories made with my family. This space is the beginning of my head-first dive into minimalism, after years of trying. I will share anecdotes and things that I find helpful. Practically and emotionally.

A lot of people think of blank walls when they think of minimalism. Maybe it will be that for me one day. For now, it’s a lifestyle that I am choosing to pursue. It’s spending less time with my stuff and more time with my little monster — so she will have less time to play alone in the bathrooms.

JS

This post originally appeared at minimalist.today