OK, I’ve known for a while that the house we were moving into was going to be considerably smaller than the house we have been used to. But as I am looking at all the the boxes and bags that are now piled up on the floor (the fruits of all of our de-cluttering and downsizing), it’s pretty obvious that we have a long way to go.
I’ve been unpacking the kitchen boxes tonight–all of it “essential”–but now I find myself thinking: Do I really need six wooden spoons? And why do I still own so many plastic storage containers? And what’s with the mismatched pot lids that I never use, but still consider important enough to pack them in a box and lug them 300 miles in a packed-to-the-gills van?
Unfortunately, the list goes on.
But don’t get me wrong. I’m not discouraged, and it’s not as though I don’t see progress. If anything, I am grateful to find myself within this fixed parameter of a small mountain home to help me see just how much excess we still have.
If it doesn’t fit, it’s too much.
There’s not a lot I am doing tonight to shrink our holdings, but I am starting to recalibrate just what it means to minimize–and gaining a new perspective on what “just enough” might look like for our family.