Today, Kendra gives us a glimpse of her version of minimalism: one that includes two children and a lovely renovated house. Surf on over to her blog to read more.

Kendra writes:

My parents gave me a taste of minimalist life when they packed us into a 35-foot camper and lived up and down the west coast for a few years. While I liked some aspects, I daydreamed of normalcy and putting down roots, you know, having classmates who weren’t my sisters. Then we did all that and I grew up. 

I grew up and married and had two babies simultaneously and renovated a beautiful old house. When the dust cleared, literally from the renovation, I emerged from survival mode and began reading about intentional living. It occurred to me that there were options, and possibly better ways to spend a life. I read A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and realized my life was a story and I wanted it to be a good one. With my husband supporting me, we ventured into uncharted waters and started fashioning our family into more. More peace, more free time, more understanding about what makes us happy.

Our initial purge of stuff was a year ago now. Our minimalism looks a bit different because we do love our 2500 sq ft renovated 1920s house. But I’m comfortable with empty cupboards, empty storage rooms, empty drawers. It also looks different because I love interior decorating, so it isn’t very sparse that way either. But the definition of minimalism that gave me hope that I could fit into it was, “Having only things you use and love.” I love my art, so it stays, but I’ve let so much else go. I love being free from the “rules” that “made” me keep things I didn’t want. I love being able to admit I made a mistake when I bought something and give it away or sell it, rather than trying to make it work for three years. Because I’ve quit denying that I made those mistakes, I’m learning from them and when I do buy something, I make a better choice.

I think the most gratifying moment was putting stacks of totes and containers I’d used to organize my stuff out to sell. Knowing I’d emptied them was exquisite. The success of minimalism in stuff has spurred two No Spend months, a more experience-based Christmas celebration and now, I’m facing down the giant that is time-management with the principles of less. It’s amazing how hopeful I feel for the future, after seeing how much thoughtful changes improve life’s quality. I believe our family’s story can be epic in love-sharing, since we’re learning to dial down anything that competes.

Kendra’s living room

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Nina Yau
2. Real Life Minimalists: This Tiny Asteroid
3. Real Life Minimalists: Aspiring Minimalist

I think you’ll enjoy this story from Sarah P, a law student from Singapore who discovered minimalism while studying abroad. Visit her blog to read more about her travels and experiences.

Sarah writes:

Last year, I spent 9 months studying abroad in Southampton, UK.

Prior to leaving home, I agonized for weeks over how to compress my life into a 30kg luggage and a 7kg hand-carry. I had a closet full of clothes, a dazzling array of shoes, every color of the rainbow, and bags, accessories and books galore. It was torture having to decide what to bring and what to leave behind. Packing took weeks and was excruciating.

Lucky for me, I was flying over with my parents (who were coming along to holiday with me before I embarked on my study abroad). So I had the luxury of utilizing some of my parents’ luggage allowances too – almost half of my dad’s luggage was filled with toiletries and supplies I anticipated I would need. My mom graciously loaned me half of her 30kg allowance for the rest of my clothes. It was still not enough.

Suffice to say, it was a relief when we finally managed to check all our bags in at the airport. We had exceeded the weight allowance (yes, more than 30kg each!) but thanks to a friendly check in lady at the counter, we made it through.

When I arrived in my lovely dorm room in Southampton, I quickly sobered up and realized how little space I actually had. I did my best unpacking and storing as much as I could. But there was just way too much stuff.

Turns out I didn’t need the 5^th pair of jeans or 30 plus tops I’d packed. Ditto for the extra bags, accessories and shoes. In the end, I only kept half of what I brought over and sent the rest home with my parents.

I went on to have a wonderful year studying abroad. I travelled to 14 countries and made beautiful travel memories. Living away from home for the first time and enjoying my new found independence was exhilarating. I learnt so much.

In short, I had the most memorable year of my life (to date, I’m only 23). And surprisingly, the best year of my life had required the least amount of stuff!

I wore less than a quarter of the clothes that I had brought over. Often, I travelled with only a week’s worth of clothing (budget airlines charged a premium on check-in luggage so I was forced to fit everything into a 7kg hand-carry duffel).

I’m even more amazed at how little I actually needed to make my dorm room comfortable. I didn’t have a television, living room or a sofa. I shared a kitchen with five other girls. I only had one drawer each for food and toiletries respectively. My textbooks took up a shelf, my kettle another. The top-shelf I reserved for bulky files and my travel guidebooks (only 2). My closet held far fewer clothes than I had been used to. My travel bag was perched, ready for use, in a corner of the cupboard. I had one handbag, one backpack and one bag and for a time, one pair of black ballet flats – no choice at all, but it worked.

Home was simple, easy, a place to rest. I had fewer decisions to make because I had less to choose from – which freed up my time to concentrate on living life. It was an incredibly liberating way to live so minimally.

When I came home 9 months later, I viewed my bedroom through new, minimalist eyes.

I spent the next year clearing out more than half my closet, getting rid of 7 pairs of shoes, and giving away childhood memorabilia that I had held on to for way too long. It helped that my family was downsizing to a smaller apartment – the impending move spurred me to get rid of as much as I could.

We’ve now moved and I’m writing this from the comfort of my new, clutter-free bedroom. I’ve always been an organized person, so my bedroom has always been neat.

But now it’s neat and spacious. I feel such joy and peace when I see emptier shelves, half empty dresser drawers and a closet that’s not crammed full of clothing. Two drawers are completely empty. There’s room to breathe.

I’ve still got a long way to go – for instance, I’m working on paring down my bookshelf (I’m a sentimental bibliophile!) – but simplifying my life has enabled me to live far more richly! I feel free and I’m so glad I learnt this important lesson early in life!

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Kimberly
2. Real Life Minimalists: Ellen
3. Real Life Minimalists: Chris

This week, we have an update from Francesca of Tasmanian Minimalist, whose original feature appeared in July 2011. She tells us how she strayed from the minimalist path, but has returned with renewed vigor and determination.

Francesca writes:

It’s been two years since I had my minimalist life under control. Where my house was only inhabited by useful, practical and well loved items. My debt was almost cleared, my wasteful spending a thing of the past. Miss Minimalist honored me as a ‘minimalist of the week’ and national newspapers, and international magazines had done a feature on my downsizing.

I was queen of my own decluttered life.

For a while anyway.

I can not pinpoint the moment things began to change, but I do know it involved small parcels of cheap jewellery ordered from eBay arriving in my mail box. I had begun shopping again.

Many more parcels began to arrive. The post master of our village PO lifted his eyebrows in wonder, and my credit card started to wilt. I spoke to a chum at work, he too raised his eyebrows at my spending, lifting them higher and higher as my spending spiralled horribly.

Where was Tasmanian Minimalist? Some had even called me their role model.

My credit cards and bank balance began to cry out and I realized in all my years of attempting to downshift my behaviour I was back at square one. Had I learned anything?

Well perhaps I had, because second time round I am more armed and hopefully slightly more dangerous with my ardor towards debt repayment and minimizing my possessions.

Possessions never made me happy, but I still could not stop buying. I finally realize that everything I see on TV, magazines, shop windows, bill boards is all about separating me from my money. It’s never about making my life better.

To that end, I have just stopped spending on anything other than food and debt repayment. It’s now a game and I am the winner.

Thank you for reading, please visit and follow me at http://tasmanianminimalist.blogspot.com or my clothes reduction blog at http://closetblitz.blogspot.com.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Bheng

Today, I’m pleased to feature Bheng, who writes from the Philippines. Her story provides wonderful inspiration for those trying to declutter craft and hobby supplies! Please visit her blog to learn more.

Bheng writes:

Bheng

I am a crafty person, I live and breathe crafts. I prefer to make my own things rather than buy them.

I dreamed of owning a craft shop, one where I can sell crafty tools and teach them as well. While waiting for the right time to put up that venture, I thought I can start completing the contents of that craft shop. As a result, I have collected 4 years worth of crafty stash: 150 or so crochet hooks, 50 pairs of knitting needles, about 15 kilos of yarns, and 10 boxes of crochet thread, one 4-layer bookshelf full of knitting and crochet books, and magazines from all over the world and a lot of other tools that I thought “I would need someday!”.

All of these fit an entire room in our apartment. You can say that after 4 years, this right time never came. As a result, I don’t have much savings, because most of my money went to all these items that I bought.

After I gave birth to my first child, I went through post partum depression. As a result I lost interest with all the things I own. I also had some financial issues then, and while thinking of ways to resolve this I realized that I really have to let them go.

My browsing for ideas around the web brought me to your website. I read about minimalism and I just know, right then and there, that this is the answer.

You are right when you say that sometimes, we buy things because of the promise that they hold. You are also right when you say, that sometimes, we buy things because we feed our imaginary career. When I read about these in your website, I had goosebumps. I felt as if this website is written for me. It’s like your teachings has awakened me.

I sorted out my crafty collection. I opened up an online store in Facebook, so I can sell them to crafters in the Philippines. All the yarns and crochet hooks got sold out in a matter of months. This destashing is still ongoing, and I hope at the end of this year, I will be able to liquidate these items, and bring down this crafting into just a small hobby.

I started this activity last August and I have made a very huge dent in this pile of crafty things already. Not only did I reclaim more space, I also have some substantial cashback. It also allowed me to pursue my real career in life. Limiting the craft in my life has allowed me to also focus my time with my family, and my baby.

I am gradually applying minimalism to other aspects in my life. This is really liberating!

I also write about my journey to crafty minimalism in my craft blog:  http://www.handmadebybheng.blogspot.com/.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists Update: Francesca of Tasmanian Minimalist

I was thrilled to receive this story from Grace–she’s already started down the minimalist path, at the tender age of thirteen. What a wonderful example for her peers (and the rest of us)!

Grace writes:

Photo by Grace

Hi, I’m a 13 year old girl who loves living a minimalist life. Although I can’t fit all my belongings in 3 suitcases, I have less stuff than my sisters. While sharing a room with my sisters, I despised how they left all their junk on the floor. I have always known I didn’t want to be burdened with stuff. As I surveyed my room, I found many things to give away. Old clothes I never wore? Gone. The things I kept “just in case” were donated. I feel joyful when my room was empty. I am now down to four books, a stuffed giraffe, and school stuff (I’ll talk about my closet later).

Before I knew about minimalism, I was really into organizing and packing efficiently. While I was in my organizing faze, I bought organizers and plastic bins, but I realized that the organizers turned out to be extra clutter. After that, I just tried not to own much, so then I wouldn’t need to organize much. Every time I went on a trip, I would only bring the bare necessities. When I came back from the trip, I would find even more things that I didn’t need.

I’ve moved twice, so every time I moved, I would help my mom get rid of junk around the house and in the garage. Unfortunately, my family isn’t really into the idea of being minimalists. In Organized Simplicity, the quote “Too many people spend money they haven’t earned, to buy things they don’t want, to impress people they don’t like.” by Will Rogers pretty much sums up my dad.

I really started to look into the minimalist life after reading about a young billionaire who sold everything he owned, and he just kept a few extra clothes and electronics in a backpack. I was amazed and thought, that’s such a great idea! (Here’s the link to the article: http://blogs.wsj.com/wealth/2008/05/19/the-homeless-billionaire/) When I grow up, I really want to travel, but only carry around one (hopefully small) suitcase and a bag that holds all my belongings. The other option I see myself in is living in a tiny house trailer (like one from Tumbleweed). Traveling with a luggage, or living in a tiny house, restricts how much stuff I can have.

Currently, I am going to scan all my photos and school papers I might need later, and save them to a hard drive. After that, I’m going to try to convince the sister I’m sharing a room with, to at least read about minimalists and the benefits of being one.

The only un-minimalist part of my room is my closet. Every time I want to donate some clothes, my mom insists that I need it and that I should put it back. I know I only wear a few items of clothing out of everything from my closet, so it’s frustrating that I have to waste space holding those clothes.

As an avid reader of Miss Minimalist and Minimalist Student, I feel inspired when I read about other minimalists. Thanks for reading.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Miss HK
2. Real Life Minimalists: Sarah
3. Real Life Minimalists: Sunny

This week, I’m happy to share an update from previous Real Life Minimalist Caroline McGraw. We first heard from her in April 2011, while she was a live-in direct caregiver with the L’Arche DC community, caring for adults with intellectual disabilities. Read on to find out where she is now on her minimalist journey (for more details, surf on over to her blog, A Wish Come Clear).

Caroline writes:

Caroline

Hello Miss Minimalist readers! It’s hard to believe that it’s been two years since I first appeared here as a Real Life Minimalist. (As Gretchen Rubin notes in The Happiness Project, “The days are long, but the years are short.”)

The past two years have brought many changes for my husband and me, the foremost of which was our relocation from Washington, DC, to a small town in northern Alabama. How did we get here?

In April 2011, my husband and I were living in a small apartment and serving full-time with L’Arche in Washington, DC. (L’Arche, French for ‘the ark’ is a worldwide non-profit that creates homes wherein people with and without intellectual disabilities share life together.) My husband and I met and fell in love there, and community life formed the foundation for our marriage.

Yet while our space was small and our material possessions few, our lifestyle was far from simple. Both of us worked long hours in our intense leadership roles, and I had a significant commute as well. We were doing meaningful work, with and for people we loved, but something was off.

We were separated most of the time, and when we were together, we were often exhausted. And despite our frugality, choosing to live near L’Arche (in a more expensive area of the city) didn’t give us much financial margin.

We dreamed of having more freedom: freedom to rest when we were tired, to be together more often, to put aside tight schedules and stop rushing around all the time. We knew that something had to change.

And so, after laying the groundwork for several months, I made the jump to full-time self-employment in November 2011. It was exhilarating and terrifying to pursue my lifelong dream of being a writer. And it was a successful transition … so successful, in fact, that my husband decided to work for himself in 2012. (He supported us with steady income when I transitioned, and was able to return the favor.)

And moving toward self-employment led to larger questions, such as: If we could both work from anywhere, where would we choose to live? For the first time, location and employment were separate questions, and as such, it made sense to move to Alabama, we owned (and rented out part of) a home. Out went the $1,000+ rent, the stress-related illness, and the money and time spent commuting each week. (True, there were additional costs, like private health insurance, but the overall balance tipped dramatically in our favor.)

We were freed up. For the first time, we could choose how much time we spent working. The move simplified our expenses so that we’d have more time for ourselves, each other, and our new work too.

True, it was incredibly difficult to say goodbye to friends who are like family. Yet even as the move led us away from L’Arche itself, the choice was grounded in the values of L’Arche. To use language from the L’Arche charter, our new life “gives priority to relationships.”

As I wrote in 2011, “The rest of the world may include wealth, power and nice cars in their definition [of success]. Mine includes just two things: the company of those I love and the opportunity to do work I value and enjoy.” Moving has allowed me to live into that definition in a new way. And even as I said farewell to beloved friends, I knew that our move would afford us more opportunities for us to travel and visit with loved ones near and far.

I also knew that, in caring for ourselves with a simpler life, we’d have new opportunities to care for others. For example, since we have more (literal and figurative) space, we’ve welcomed a feisty kitten named Boostie into our family. And as my husband renovates our turn-of-the-century home, I continue to write and ‘dig for treasure’ in people with special needs.

So much has changed in the last two years, yet so much remains the same. And that’s what real life minimalism means to me. It’s about changing with the seasons, letting go of that which no longer serves you even as you hold fast to what matters most.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Caroline Garnet McGraw
2. Real Life Minimalists: Sherry Ott
3. Real Life Minimalists: Warren and Betsy Talbot

Today we have a wonderful contribution from Susan, who tells us how her 1900-era house led her down the path to minimalism.

Susan writes:

Photo by Susan

This is a story about how I learned to start listening to my house. My family and I live in a large east coast city, in a modest house built in 1900 for working people. There are no grand entrances or roomy hallways, and very little storage space. Our only closets, in the bedrooms, are small and shallow. They are only the depth of a hanger, because in 1900 average working families in our city had two or three outfits that they hung on hooks.

At first, the house was almost empty. Then we received my parents’ old furniture, we had a second child, and the possessions accumulated mindlessly. I grew increasingly frustrated with the lack of storage space and purchased giant tubs to store things in the attic and basement. I assumed that if I could just organize properly we could have everything we thought we wanted in the house, but the house was telling me otherwise. When the kids became teenagers, a sense of being crowded came over me often. I felt ill at ease in my home, like I was wearing ill fitting clothing. Things seemed shabby and jammed into spaces not built to contain them.

But I did not want a larger house to take care of even if we could afford it. So I started purging. First we had a driveway sale to sell off things the kids didn’t use anymore. It was an excruciating experience that I will never repeat, but that weekend was the start of a revolution. I took everything left over to Goodwill and start ruminating on what happens to all the excess stuff we get rid of. Does Goodwill really sell everything or does a good portion end up in a landfill? It was an uncomfortable thought, and I became curious about the life of “stuff”.

I began reading green and anti-consumerist blogs and also stumbled upon Miss Minimalist. Miss Minimalist’s posts were like a drink of water on a hot day, expressing values and a philosophy that resonated with me and I thought “this is it, I am a minimalist”. My mindset changed as I continued to get rid of things and rethink my shopping habits.

With much fewer items hanging in the tiny closet I share with my husband, I don’t agonize over what to wear and I am happier. The old fashioned moldings and wood floors in our house are now more noticeable, so the house’s charm is more apparent. Our “style” miraculously went from shabby to charming. My consumption habits went from mindless to mindful. It is easier now to see what we really need and use, providing incentive to keep things minimal. After all this time I have finally unlocked the key to being right-sized and content in my old home! (Until I can go smaller that is!)

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Miss HK
2. Real Life Minimalists: Sarah
3. Real Life Minimalists: Sunny

This week, I’m happy to introduce you to Anna, who tells us (quite beautifully) how minimalism has awakened her to a more mindful, happier life. Please visit her blog to learn more.

Anna writes:

Anna

I began decluttering my living spaces about a year and a half ago, and have been consciously downsizing ever since. Like a lot of Miss Minimalist readers, I reached a breaking point with my stuff. I hadn’t run out of space yet, but I came to the realization that all of the things I’d acquired weren’t working. My clothes kept me warm and my appliances functioned, but the stuff didn’t make me happy or solve my problems. It merely distracted me from what was really ailing me.

The hardest part about decluttering for me was realizing that for years I’d been using “stuff” to stave off feelings of uncertainly, self-doubt, anxiety, and insecurity. I had been a secret binge-eater in college, and as I started to heal my relationship with food, I discovered that I had a similarly hurtful relationship with stuff. Both were things that I used to distance myself from issues I didn’t know how to deal with; I relied on them for short-term comfort. When it was time to open the closets, I felt like I lived in a house full of broken promises. I was facing a timeline of reminders of all the things I didn’t want to feel, and all the stuff that hadn’t made me feel better. Naturally, it felt good to let go of what I didn’t need, with all the bad memory associations, and focus more on really healing my life.

Now, a year and a half later, I have a deeper appreciation of minimalism for these reasons:

Minimalism prompts me to ask how much is really enough, and to answer that question, I have to think seriously about what my real goals, desires, and values are. But once I’m clear on those things, it’s so much easier to select a material life that actually helps me achieve those things, rather than relying on stuff to fill an emotional void. Just like with food, I feel like I now have a “natural appetite” for material things as well. It feels safe to “stop when I’m full,” so to speak; to savor what I have and feel “sated” by it.

To me, minimalism is a powerful, healing antidote for a toxic, materialistic culture. I find myself surrounded by messages telling me that what I have isn’t good enough, out of style, and out of date; that I need more, and if I just had this one more thing, I’d be happy.

But when everything points to some far-off imagined future in which I would hypothetically be happy, I’m drawn away from what I have here and now. It’s very hard to be mindful and grateful in an environment like that! It creates a mindset of perpetual lacking and longing. Minimalism prompts me to focus on what truly makes me happy in the present: people, relationships, all the rich, beautiful experiences of life. It’s like being invited back into my life after being distracted from it for so long. I have a sense of having “beaten the system,” in a way. I still get bombarded with commercial messages about all the things I should do and have and be. But with a clearer vision of my values and goals, it’s so much easier to shrug them off. It’s so much better to feel awake to a simpler life, than to have a ton of stuff and be constantly sleepwalking, dreaming of more.

Feeling so much more happiness day to day, as I strive to live more simply and with greater awareness, makes me much less afraid to pursue my dream of becoming an artist and a writer. I no longer believe I need lots of expensive stuff to feel successful, and I know I can be healthy and at peace in simple spaces. Moreover, I have more money, more time, more space, and more energy to devote to what I love, and I think more clearly and vividly.

I feel very grateful to have minimalism as a tool to filter out everything I don’t truly need and love in my life, and bring my attention back to the things that I do.

I wrote a much longer piece on processing the emotions released by decluttering on my blog, AnnamalHouse, where I also write about topics like food, body image, veganism, and animal rights.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalist Update: Heather in Texas
2. Real Life Minimalists: Joshua Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus
3. Real Life Minimalists: Sofia Reddy

Today we hear from Sandra in Portugal, who’s just getting started on her minimalist journey. Let’s give her some supporting words and wishes as she joins us in this wonderful lifestyle!

Sandra writes:

I am a minimalist in-training…

…Or a minimalist newbie, because I very recently discovered this new world.

At the moment, I am trying to learn as much as I can about this lifestyle. I’m already practising it too.

I am portuguese and my first contact with minimalist was a portuguese blog but link after link I got to you and your blog. I’ve been reading bit by bit, post by post and I’m loving it. I also read a sample from “The joy of less” and it hooked me.

But being a minimalist in training is a hard job. Not for me, because I am surrendered to it, but for my husband who doesn’t see the point of it… yet. (Of course I’m taking baby steps but I always find sense in something I read and immediately I think “I can do that”.) So, I struggle for his (the hubby) cooperation on doing tasks assigned on the daily chore table, I struggle for him to get rid of old newspapers and scraps (mine are being dealt, and I have eventually got rid of 6 boxes full of old paper – newspapers scraps, papers from school and college), I struggle for him to finish the shampoo before he gets a new one, or the perfume, or the roll-on…

Everyday I try to organize a different item. It can be the mail box, the kitchen towels or even setting the habit to always prepare the table for next morning breakfast.

At this point I really feel being minimalist as The way to full happiness.

What can one wish for rather than be happy, have time to give for your family, have your possessions clean and organized, not feeling you should “keep up with the Joneses” just because. You should feel you are in control of all important aspects of your life and feel serene about it. But for me being of control doesn’t mean to always be controlling and checking on things, but means to rely things are ok (e.g. there is enough to pay the bills, every item we own has a place and can be easily found, to have spare time to share with family, or even on my own, doing things calmly and so on). Am I right?

I wish I could be a stay-at-home mom but at the moment we’re living on a very tight budget and on my income only. We are a family of 3. My husband is currently studying and learning a trade and he has a very small scholarship.

I do my best to give him and my son and myself, of course, a home cooked meal every night, I do my best to take care of the house properly, but I feel I can improve my skills. That is why I have been interested in this new lifestyle. I want to be a better me.

Thank you for sharing your experience and for allowing me to learn from it.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Miss HK
2. Real Life Minimalists: Sarah
3. Real Life Minimalists: Sunny

Now that I’m back Stateside, and settled down (for the time being) with a little one, I find myself once again meditating on this concept. Can I still realize this exquisite lightness of being, even though I’m not on the road?

I think so. The key: looking at life as one big, wonderful, extended journey—and keeping the associated baggage as streamlined as possible.

But this concept applies to far more than just possessions. When I travel, I’m not only unencumbered with material things, I’m free of schedules, worries, and obligations. I’m usually unplugged (no laptop and no cell phone), and often so immersed in the here and now that I even forget to take photographs.

That’s my exquisite lightness of being: living completely in the present moment.

Which brings me to some difficult choices. Life with a toddler involves far more time and energy than I’d ever imagined…and I’ve become acutely aware that every minute I’m staring at a computer screen, I’m not staring into my little girl’s beautiful eyes and watching her discover the world around her.

What I’m craving now is a total immersion in the present. I don’t want to put Plumblossom in her pack-and-play in order to check email, or write blog posts in my head while I’m reciting nursery rhymes. And when she’s cozy in her crib, I don’t want to make a mad dash to get online; I want to sit out on our deck and stargaze with my husband.

This time in our lives is fleeting, and I want to savor every moment—and right now, that involves decluttering my digital life in favor of my real one.

Blogging involves a fair amount of navel-gazing; and in my opinion, this self-analysis can sometimes feel like an added weight on one’s soul. In contrast, I’d like to live each moment like Plumblossom does—appreciating the beauty and wonder of the world, without the burden of documenting it.

And while I miss you all dearly, I think that right now she needs me a little more. Between my book and blog archives, there’s a wealth of information and support for anyone interested in minimalism and decluttering. My daughter, on the other hand, relies on me minute by minute for her well-being and happiness. I’m her interpreter, her teacher, her companion as she explores this strange and beautiful world.

And she certainly keeps me on my toes—she started walking at nine months, and running through the house shortly thereafter (note: minimalism is the best babyproofing!). Now, at fifteen months, she’s obsessed with language—spoken, signed, and written. She knows more signs than I do, can recognize and sound out most of the consonants in the alphabet, and appears intent on figuring out the words in her books. Yesterday, she wrote her first letter (an “M”) while saying “Mama” and pointing to me. So when she looks to me expectantly, excitedly–whether it’s to read, stack blocks, or do ballet with her in the living room–I can’t bear to turn away towards my laptop.

In motherhood, I’ve discovered a deeper minimalism: one that has more to do with being than possessing. One that’s challenging me to let go of ego, of ambition, of self, and find joy in the simplest pleasures of life.

I don’t consider this a farewell post, though, as I have no intention of closing my blog. I’ll keep running the Real Life Minimalists series, and drift in and out when I have thoughts to share—just not on any fixed schedule. At the moment, I’m devoting my darling’s (dwindling) naptime to working on my next book. When she’s a little older, and playing independently, I hope to be able to post again with more regularity.

That said, Plumblossom, my husband, and I are now off on a little walk, to get some fresh air and see what new shoots are coming up in the garden—and to enjoy, together, our exquisite lightness of being.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide}.

Related posts:

1. Drifting
2. Nothing to Steal
3. Minimalist Philosophy: To Walk Away, Empty-Handed