Make What You're Doing, What You Want to Be Doing

What do you want from a blog? I want meaningful content, beautiful photos, and maybe the occasional video. I want something that isn't too long to read--an economy of words. Something small that's worth contemplating. I want inspiration on a regular basis, but not so many posts that I can't keep up with it. I don't want gimmicks, formulas, or a focus on advertising. I want it to breathe the Spirit. 

So that's exactly what I want to give followers of this blog. To that end, I plan to post two or three times a week, at most, of what I understand Wisdom to be imparting. Today's message is, very simply, to make what you're doing what you want to be doing. 

I spoke in the previous post's video about the ceasing of striving. Yet my mind seems to be constantly seduced by the question, "What next?" I think this comes down to habitual patterns of thinking, and it's a question our culture perpetually tries to force us to ask ourselves. Because we should always be wanting something else, or something more. Could it be that the malaise I spoke about in the last couple of posts has its roots in this modernist mindset? Does life feel like one big checklist of productivity? Is even your leisure time composed of what you think you should want, or what someone else tells you ought to be your values? 

Minimalism is a spiritual path. It's about carving out a deep and meaningful life and eliminating the clutter. For me, it's about having an inward-oriented inspiration and guidance, rather than a searching outward for answers. What I want Organic Mothering to be about now is helping others to listen to the indwelling Spirit while I let go of striving and learn to listen myself. 

Today I've decided to make what I'm doing what I want to be doing. Writing a blog. Designing a fall "still life" for my porch. Prayer. Being present with homeschooling and connecting with my child, rather than striving to get it done so we can move on. Facing boredom with what gifts it might have to give, what lessons it may be waiting to teach. Laundry, dinner, walking the dogs. Embracing the repetition that is the touchstone of life. Letting go of what's next. 

Small Pleasures

I really can't say exactly why I haven't posted since March! After doing my video on my vegetarian-to-vegan journey, my intention was to continue to make weekly videos. That proved difficult, as I rarely have the house to myself. I did make another video, but I decided it was too long. Also, I had discussed using a particular homeschooling curriculum this coming fall, but I later changed my mind about it. So that video never got posted. 

I've been in a bit of a malaise this summer, and today I remembered something Fr. Dave said at my last confession. He told me that I need to do things that are just for me, that I enjoy. We moms know this is important, yet sometimes we don't even realize when we are neglecting ourselves. 

A small thing that I enjoy is putting together cut flower arrangements from my yard in a Ball Mason jar. The picture above shows the one I created today for my backyard patio. I've also been making them to take to my grandmother, who is recuperating from surgery and getting physical therapy at a nursing home. She appreciates it so much!

Blogging is one of my pleasures, as is taking photographs, and this is a practice that I need to commit to getting back to. I do intend to make more youtube videos for the blog as well. I may just have to send my husband and daughter out of the house for ice cream so I have the time alone. 

I think that simple pleasures are an integral element of minimalism. Our society has conditioned us to expect constant entertainment and stimulation. It's easy to overlook the humble but deeply fulfilling possibilities in the everyday things of life. Just tidying my porch and patio space today got me outside for awhile, providing me contact with nature, fresh air, exercise, and a few moments of creativity. These are the kinds of acts that can help keep us in the flow of life and make sacred our ordinary routines. 

So my message for today is to enjoy a simple pleasure that is just for you. It doesn't have to be anything grand. Maybe it's taking a walk by yourself, watching a favorite Netflix show, working in your garden, baking some cookies, or talking to a friend. Try to find some little way to nurture yourself every day. 

Winter Deep Clean 2018

Happy New Year, everyone! I'd like to invite you to join me for a deep cleaning of our homes this winter. Typically you might think of spring as being the season for a thorough house cleaning, but I can't wait that long. Sure, some tasks, like washing windows and painting, will need to wait until warmer weather. But as it is so very cold right now, and you are not likely to be spending much time outdoors, why not clean the cabin and perhaps avoid cabin fever in the process? We'll be too busy purging and scrubbing to notice how cooped up we are, and we will be loving our homes again!

I spent Christmas and my birthday sick and in bed, so I had a lot of time to plan. I watched way too many youtube videos, but some of them did inspire me and helped me discern the tools I will need for this project. It seems that the minimalist challenge groups for this year are focusing on spending 15 minutes per day on a particular zone. A zone might be a room or set of rooms, or just part of a room. I decided to start with my upstairs bathroom. 

I gathered my supplies and set a timer for 15 minutes (see grimy vintage timer in pic at top!), planning to work on the medicine cabinet only. I figured it would take more than 15 minutes, but the idea is that once you get going, you build momentum. 

The first thing you want to do is throw away (or set aside to give away) whatever items need to go. I tossed expired medicines, products I wasn't using, and old nail polish. Unfortunately one of the bottles broke in the waste basket, creating a strong smell and making a mess. Dealing with this added extra time to the project, which leads me to the next point. Plan for your project to take longer than expected. 

Just the medicine cabinet took 55 minutes, and later I realized that I had forgotten to wash the outside of it, so it was really a full hour. I took everything out, discarded certain items, cleaned all the shelves and woodwork, and put the remaining things back inside, in an organized fashion. This is a built-in cabinet and has quite a bit of storage space. There is room to put some additional items in it, which may end up meaning that I need less storage space in other areas of the bathroom. 

 

Bring paper and a pen into the zone you are working on so you can take notes of anything you need to replace (like those expired medicines you threw away) and any additional supplies you may need to finish the job. I did the medicine cabinet on Jan. 1, then took my list to the store the next day. One thing I really needed was rubber gloves for cleaning. Yesterday's job, hanging a curtain on a new rod, cleaning the window frame, and cleaning the pedestal sink, also took longer than expected. 

Once you get started, you may feel more overwhelmed that you did initially, realizing how much work you actually have ahead of you. So just set that timer for 15 minutes. Do what you can in that time. Choose only a small zone to work on. When the buzzer goes off, set the timer for another 15 minutes if you still haven't finished the job. I'm not going to work past one hour each day, because I don't want to injure my back. 

Here's a recap of the steps:

1. Choose what zone you will begin with (think small).
2. Gather the supplies you will need, including your paper and pen for note taking.
3. Set your timer for 15 minutes (reset as needed).
4. Purge first. Pare down duplicates, throw away expired items, give/throw away products you don't use/don't like. Be relentless!
5. Thoroughly clean the area. 
6. Organize your remaining items.
7. Reward yourself with a break!

So who's going to join me? What zone will you begin with first? Imagine having your home decluttered and shiny clean by spring!!
 

Goodbye, Things (Book Review)

I had to wait awhile for my turn to borrow Fumio Sasaki's Goodbye, Things: The New Japanese Minimalism from the library, but it was worth it. I'm not actually finished reading it yet, but I've been so inspired, I just had to share!

Fumio is a single, childless man who lives by himself in a small apartment in Tokyo. He was once a maximalist living with messy heaps of books, CDs, clothes, an antique camera collection that he never used, and various miscellany. He literally lived in the dark, too overwhelmed to open the blinds. He drank too much and squandered his time on video games.

When I was a single gal, I had my own small, cluttered, messy apartment. I didn't play video games or sit around drinking too much, and my lifestyle was interesting, active, and creative. But I can relate to how having too much stuff and living in chaos held me back from feeling as confident, capable, and joyful as I could have. And the thing is, decades later, living with a family in a much bigger space, I am still struggling with clutter. Yes, I've made much progress and have cultivated better habits, but I just wish I had discovered minimalism while I was still single!

I got a lot of help from Marie Kondo's The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, but I must admit to becoming stalled and never finishing the project, which should have taken only six months. I think her idea of paring down by categories is genius. At the same time, there's something so encouraging about seeing an entire room that is finished.

I started with my bedroom, because the space where you sleep should be a sanctuary. Since I've been reading Fumio's book, I'm looking suspiciously at the books in my bedroom, which I did pare down, and thinking that more of them need to go. But I'm going to write a post specifically about book addiction later! I also have some jewelry on the my dresser that I could pare down, and there are a few things left in my closet that I ought to part with.

Fumio lives much more simply than I would want to. I find interior decorating to be a joy, and I like expressing myself creatively with my wardrobe. I'm not into the "uniform" look, which Fumio adopted from his minimalist hero, Steve Jobs. But even here, I can learn from the idea of honing in on a certain style and owning less clothing, making it easier and less time consuming to get dressed and do laundry.

This young man is not against housework, however. He loves keeping house, because the results of a clean, uncluttered home are so beneficial, and it takes him very little time to accomplish his tasks. Charlotte Mason would wholly approve of Fumio's emphasis on positive habit formation!

This week Ive been digging into my kitchen cupboards while my husband is working out of the house. A woman needs a well-functioning kitchen! I had gotten to a place where I wasn't inspired to cook anymore, and I think this decluttering and reorganizing process is going to take care of that problem. I'm looking forward to going to the farmers market and grocery store today!

It takes time, diligence, and persistence to pare down one's belongings and tidy one's home. But as Fumio has attested, it does change your life. He's a new man, and I want to be a new woman! I want to live better, more fully and meaningfully. Paradoxically, this means living more simply and being content with what you have.

The only criticism I have of Goodbye, Things is that Fumio tends to repeat himself, but I think he revisits stories in order to make an additional point.

My laptop battery is running low, so that's my cue to get moving! Read Fumio's book so we can discuss!!

No Baggage Book Review, Hygge, & a Day at the Beach

I just finished reading No Baggage: A Minimalist Tale of Love & Wandering by Clara Bensen, a travel memoir I eagerly devoured in three days. I found it when I did a library search on the topic of minimalism. Clara is a 25-year-old who met Jeff, an older university professor, through an online dating group. A magical connection ensued, and a month after their meeting, Clara joined Jeff for a 21-day, overseas tour beginning with Istanbul and finishing in London. The catch: no baggage, no reservations. Jeff carried everything in his pockets, and Clara brought a small purse. They wore the same clothing for the entire trip.

I was immediately intrigued upon learning that Clara came from a loving, evangelical Christian home and was homeschooled. Her uncommonly good writing skills and obvious intelligence and wit were encouraging. She seemed to have no misgivings about being homeschooled, and she had a close relationship with her parents. Yet through the experience of college life she lost her moral compass. Upon facing the harsh realities of the 2008 housing market crash following her graduation, she spiraled down a two-year rabbit hole of mental illness.

Her prose is laced with profanity and stories of sex outside of marriage. I could relate to much of her twenty-something experiences, having been negatively influenced by the college culture myself, then becoming very depressed after graduating in late 1991 during a major recession. I too had grown up in a Christian home and lost my way. It's a cautionary tale. It's also an inspiring one.

I spent the day at a state park beach with my family and a friend of Beezy's this past Friday. I finally felt myself sink into summer. The tension I'd been holding in the core of my being melted in the hot sun and floated away in the waves of the lake. I wore a blue, cotton gauze dress I found at Good Will that is so comfortable and pretty I could wear it every day, just like Clara wore the same green frock for three weeks straight. Traveling so light was almost anticlimactic, so easy it turned out to be. I would not want to repeat her "couch surfing" experience, not knowing where she and Jeff were going to sleep from night to night. But I could imagine just a carpet bag of my possessions and maybe a house swapping situation, where I could cook and have a home base. And then make day trips to other destinations, rather than sitting on buses and trains for 24 hours at a time and hitchhiking.

So back to the beach. I've also been reading a few library books about hygge, the Danish concept of a certain experience of quiet happiness and comfort. Hygge, pronounced hoo-ga, is about simple pleasures, companionship, hominess and coziness, a strong connection to nature, and a feeling of deep peace and well-being. It's one of those ideas that's foreign to us Americans and difficult to define. But when I was sitting there on the beach, completely being in the present moment, with no shred of anxiety or irritation, enjoying the company of the people I was with, and even the strangers, I got it. This is hygge. 

Having found my summer groove not until the 2nd half of July, I am seriously considering not starting our homeschooling back up until after Labor Day. I know, so radical! Such a risk! But it has only been in the past couple of decades that the beginning of school got pushed earlier and earlier, till the kids are now slumping to the bus stop with their back packs in the middle of August. I have an appointment with a pain specialist for a consultation about my lower back, hoping that an epidural steroid injection might enable me to sit for long periods in a car again. I have a dream of traveling with my family in a RV and spending copious amounts of time in woods and meadows and by lakes and streams. Lots of people "road school"! Why not leave town at the precise moment that everyone else goes back to the grind? Even if we don't embark on an epic journey, we can do the day-tripping thing from our own home base. And we can keep on lightening our load of possessions and worries.

In addition to my blue thrift store dress, I also picked up a plum purple, Old Navy tank top. Purple was not a color in the stores this year, and the top was an item I desperately needed. I was thrilled to find two pieces of clothing that I absolutely love, in excellent used condition, for a total of $10. This is how I want to dress myself always, only in those items that bring me joy to put on. It's difficult to find clothing that one would put in the "love" category, so it logically follows that one's wardrobe would have to be minimalist.

The moral of the story is that there is hope for the fallen Clara, who most likely by her mother's ardent prayers (and unbeknownst to herself) made her way back to the land of the living. She was brave enough to take a risk on love. Surely she took too many risks, but she trusted her intuition and was willing to experiment with a different way of being in the world. She had the courage to face her demons head on. There is hope for the fallen you and me as well. I heard an adage once that dissolved me in tears, and every so often it whispers in the forefront of my mind:

At the end of your life, these three things matter most--
How much did you love,
how well did you live your life,
and how deeply did you learn to let go...

Authenticity.

Take heed and guard yourselves from all covetousness, for a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.  Luke 12:15

It seems to me that the simplicity/slow/minimalism movement is at its heart about authenticity. Life in modern society is focused upon trying to be like other people--mostly people we don't know, people we see in magazines, on social media and television. Or if we do sort of know them, we want to be like the versions of themselves that they want other people to see and believe. Why do we do this, grasshoppers?

We don't know ourselves, so we think we need other people to help us figure out what we like and don't like, what our true style is, what our secret purpose is in life. We create fantasy selves.

If I don't orient my life around who I am in the eyes of God, then I truly don't know who I am. I'm not rooted, and I float around willy-nilly. I have to intentionally spend time, daily, in prayer, reading the Bible, and contemplation. I also have to spend time regularly in creation, going outside, noticing the birds, insects, and flowers, being active.

I have to see myself as a child of God and of Mary, as a sister of Jesus. As a member of the mystical body of Christ, which is the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. I have to make a concerted effort to see all others as made in the image and likeness of God. And if I miss Mass for whatever reason, things begin to fall apart.

When we declutter and pare down our possessions; when we eat local, organic food and keep a compost heap in our yards; when we strictly limit the time we spend plugged into devices; when we walk in the woods, have dinner together as a family, and stop making an idol of busyness, we become authentic. When we stop focusing on ourselves and tend to the needs of others, we become more of who we were meant to be.

We must stop wanting what other people have. We must quit trying to be like other people, or who other people think we are or should be. We have to recognize the addiction to possessions, and in a sense, to value things more than we do. A true materialism values quality over quantity and is content with having enough. Our society teaches us to see things as disposable and easily replaceable. This attitude then gets extended to people. It's imperative that we learn to appreciate what we have and be good stewards of our possessions; and to treat all people and creatures with kindness and dignity.

Searching for your "authentic Self" is a bit narcissistic, isn't it? Authenticity isn't self-conscious, and it doesn't need constant entertainment and novelty. Go deeper with what you have. Get outside of yourself and serve others. Lose yourself, and all the baggage, to find yourself. Rejoice and be glad.