"Before" pictures of my basement. As for "After" pictures, well, there are none.
Kathy at Bliss Beyond Naptime asked me to join her for a simplicity home tour she's hosting on her blog. I was invited to feature one wonderful space in my home, and share how simplicity has really made it a pleasure to use.
And while I love the concept, I politely declined.
Because the truth is simplicity is feeling rather out of reach these days.
I'm overwhelmed, discouraged, and up to my armpits in stuff.
And it sucks.
This revelation today is courtesy of two things, the first being a lost book (no big deal but still frustrating as I paw through the dusty corners of my house in vain), and the second a missing birthday banner.
Sage's birthday is this weekend. And last year he didn't want to use his bunting, but this year he does.
And I can't find it.
After a half-hour of searching I found the bag of birthday loot (the wooden spiral, the candles, and Lupine's bunting) but Sage's is no where to be seen.
What. The. Heck.
Yes, yes. I'll cut myself some slack because well, two years, one move, and two basement floods have come and gone since I last saw the thing, but still. Boo.
In the big picture it's not a colossal mothering failure to misplace a birthday banner.
I get that. But having just spent an hour digging through boxes and totes in the basement, the barn, the sewing room, and the closets makes me wonder where I took a wrong turn.
I'm nothing short of floored by all that we still have to do.
Because we still have so much stuff.
And loads of it has been boxed or half-boxed/pawed through since we moved.
Why oh why is this stuff still here?
Because It's epic.
Because it's messy and uncomfortable and letting go can be hard.
Because there are memories and trinkets mixed with random papers. Because there are things to toss and things to keep all jumbled together and sometimes it's hard to know the difference.
And if I get really honest it's because I'd rather garden or sew or knit or cook or can or scrub my toilet or do almost anything instead of stand in my basement sorting boxes of I-don't-even-know-what.
And yet it needs to be done. I want it to be done. And I haven't made it happen.
I've stalled out.
And simplicity is not someplace you arrive at and then stay there. It's like dishes or laundry. You have to keep at it or it starts to unravel again.
I guess I've fallen off the simplicity bandwagon. And I didn't stick the landing.
It's high time I climb back on. As in: right now. Even if it's uncomfortable. Even if I'd rather be in the garden.
Because I want my life to be clean and ordered and real. Not strewn with boxes and bags of forgotten treasures to walk around.
Keep the good and let go of the rest.
And be ruthless with it.
So yes, friends, I have too much fabric and too many old pictures. We have too many bicycles and too many vintage suitcases. Too much camping gear and too many ski boots.
We have. Too. Much. Stuff.
It's time to dig out.
Will you join me on this journey?
Thanks for your non-judgement, for your reflection, and for your companionship along this road.
And thanks for listening.