I remember the day my personal evolution to a minimalist lifestyle began. It was January 2, 2008. Having established that my theme for the year was to be "simplicity," my plan was to pare down a bit--clean out some drawers, get rid of some unwanted items, go through the boxes in the attic and garage and lighten the load a bit. Since I'm tidy by nature and clutter makes me a little nuts, I didn't see where this theme was going to be more of my life-changing ones. That is, of course, until I entered my walk-in closet on the morning of January 2, 2008.
On that fateful day, I was chagrined to discover that I owned 42 pairs of jeans. Forty two stinkin' pairs of jeans! Ranging in size from 8 (skinny jeans) to 14 (too awful to think about jeans), there they were all neatly folded. Prewashed, boot cut, straight leg, relaxed fit, slim fit, jeans with strategically-placed holes, jeans with razor sharp ironed creases, dress jeans, longer jeans for wearing with heels, shorter length for flats, black jeans, white jeans (I am, if nothing else, an equal-opportunity jean-hoarder) high rise, low rise, 100% cotton jeans, jeans with spandex and yes....I'll own it...jeans with the tags still on them.
Forty two pairs. And the funny thing is--I am not a fashion-slave. I like to look my best, but a Sex in the City wardrobe has never been high on my list of things that define who I am. So how the heck did these 42 pairs of jeans get into my closet? They were folded too neatly for anyone else to have slipped them in there--my signature tri-fold style was written all over them. And since I don't think that my denims were replicating on their own, I can only assume that at some point I had purchased them with my very own hard-earned money.
Talk about an eye opener. By noon I had pared the jeans down to a more respectable number. The exact amount escapes me, but I am guessing that no more than five pairs were stacked on the shelves by the time the task was completed. Then I turned my attention to my shoes, then my purses, then...
...the momentum continued throughout that entire year and beyond. By the end of 2008, Jeremy and I had sold my 2,600 square foot Victorian and most of its contents and moved to a 1,300 square foot furnished rental home on the Oregon coast. It felt wonderfully liberating. After a year there, we rented a 2,000 square foot unfurnished home in Portland. And then we proceeded to fill it with stuff. TV's (on which we only watch movies twice a week), art work, family photos, fluffy bath towels (in coordinating colors--for both bathrooms), books, lamps (so we could see to read the books), end tables (to hold the lamps), a kitchen set (for us) a dining room set (for when the kids came to visit), a king sized bed (which I'm pretty sure extends into two zip codes--I'm thinking about getting some walkie-talkies so Jeremy and I can hear each other better when we're in it) and a queen sized bed (for the guest room--we want the kids to know they're welcome) a trundle bed (for granddaughter Kaydi), new desks (we work from home and deserve nice work spaces), throw rugs, clocks, bedding, candles and their assorted holders, tchotskies, and doodads.
And don't even get me started on the kitchen!
So, yeah, we kinda fell off the simplicity wagon. But it was a gradual fall, culminating in such a cushy landing (no doubt on our humongous king sized mattress) that we hardly noticed. And even with this endless list of stuff, we still have less than the average American Joe. We have one car, we use everything we have, our home is remarkably uncluttered, and our closets are not stuffed to the rafters.
It was in comparing ourselves to the average American Joe where we went wrong. The fact that we have less crap than our neighbors notwithstanding, Jeremy and I began to feel weighed down, stifled and trapped by our load.
In short, we were over-stuffed. Again.
Sigh...
So now it;s time for "De-stuffing, the Sequel." And this will be our final performance. We've given our notice to the landlord, scheduled the estate sale and begun the process of paring ourselves down to whatever will fit in the car. Then we're outta here to travel the world. The task is a daunting one. I'll cover its ups and downs in future posts. But this time, we are being ruthless. It's our Sherman's March to the Sea approach to simplifying.
Changing my mind is no longer an option at this point (not that I am tempted). Last night, after an exhausting day of preparing the garage and all his tools for sale, Jeremy plopped onto the couch and announced that "if we ever settle down in one place again, it had better be my final stopover before I'm planted in the ground because I am never doing this again!"
And the choir to which he was preaching had no objection!
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
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