Monday, March 12, 2012

This simplification business is hard work

I’ve been reading another book on how to simplify our family—physically, financially, mentally, spiritually—and I am in heaven.  Will knows that it is only a matter of days before he comes home from work to find the house empty of everything, furniture included, with Frances, George and me sitting on the floor in a dark room holding hands and singing “This Land is Your Land” to the light of a single candle. 

And although I may never go quite to that extreme, I am falling in love with the idea of less is more.  I have found such happiness in the simplifying process so far and I’m not even close to being done.  Meanwhile, Will is wondering where that materialistic “I can’t wait to have a diamond ring on my right ring finger, too” girl went that he married almost 8 years ago.

I can’t promise she’s gone forever, but I do think that this last decade of life experiences, the most significant of which was having Frances and George, created a paradigm shift in my thinking.  I won’t bore you with the nitty-gritty details of my new goals, but I will say that the process of streamlining is much more work than you would think—thus, why there are books you can buy to teach you how not to buy things.  Thankfully that seems to be the only ironic pill I’ve had to swallow thus far.

And that is all a very long-winded way of saying I am 100% completely worn out today from so much simplifying and my post will end here.  I would like to say that my next post will be written after I’ve watered my organic vegetable garden and biked the children home from the playground—but I’m not sure I’ll be that far along by then.  Or ever, for that matter.

Will is just hoping that his baseball hat collection isn’t sacrificed in all of this new found freedom.  I promise nothing.

Happy Monday, everyone!

1 comment:

  1. I've honestly had that very book in my Amazon cart at least four or five times and convinced myself, for various reasons, that buying a book about simplifying was not, in fact, simplifying. But like you said, I guess that's the only irony I need to get past, right? Should I just go ahead and do it?

    And for the record, I think your "This Land is Your Land" scenario actually sounds nice. Well, except for maybe the whole in the dark part. And also except for the part that I can't sing to save my life.

    Hope you guys are enjoying the same great weather we are here!

    PS. Should Jamison just go ahead and send you his chia seeds in a care package, from one person who regularly grosses out his spouse with his nutritious concoctions to another? (Maybe Will and I could also form a support group for said spouses.)