Last year I made a huge decision to drastically downsize my life. My 10-year marriage had come to a heart-wrenching end in 2012, and in early 2013 I found myself living alone in a very large house, surrounded by silence and a decade’s worth of accumulated possessions. I didn’t know where I was going from there, and at times, it felt like I didn’t have the energy to care. My heart was broken, and for the first time in my life, I had no plan.
I remember standing in the middle of the living room feeling overwhelmed by all the responsibility I was facing in the wake of what I’d been through. Sometimes putting your life back together begins with taking everything apart.
In that moment there in the living room, I suddenly felt very clear about what I needed to do next. I wanted to downsize. Not just a little, but drastically. I wanted to sell the big, stucco house with no yard and find a small home with a garden. I wanted to travel. To simplify. To live freely. I realized then that the beautiful future that could be waiting for me in my new life was currently buried under a ton of stuff.
I went on a crusade to sell, donate or give away as much as I could. My goal was to lose 70% of it. A big challenge, and one I felt completely empowered by. Once I began my mission, the doors that started to fly open for me blew me away. The house sold in 48 hours for more than the asking price. The perfect home for me appeared – a tiny house surrounded by trees on nearly a quarter acre along side the Los Angeles River, and my offer was accepted over 18 others. Help was coming to me from every direction in unexpected forms. I knew in my heart that the Universe had my back, and I felt supported.
With every step in my downsizing journey, my heart was healing, and at the same time, opening again. A new man had entered my life who was kind, funny, and compassionate, and who had also just sold nearly everything he owned in an effort to live more by having less. I began to see how our shared values and similar battle scars could be the beginnings of a foundation for something great, and I made the daring decision to be vulnerable again.
The steps I’d been taking to lighten my load and take charge of my life, along with the healing work I’d been doing internally, allowed me to be open to a new relationship, new ways of living, new friendships, and other new opportunities from a place of wholeness instead of lack, which made all the difference.
After escrow closed on my old home, I said a teary goodbye that was both emotional and cathartic, and put the remainder of my possessions into storage. All but a single suitcase. I had 30 days until I could move into my new home – what to do!? I’d taken the month off work, had no stuff, and no place to be. I was a free bird, and it felt pretty amazing.
I went to stay on a fold-out couch with my new guy where he’d been staying in a guest room at the home of some of my best friends. We all lived in community for a month, sharing stories and meals by the pool, laughing, crying, dreaming, and making plans. I could feel and see the color and light coming back to my world. And you know what? I didn’t miss the stuff. Not one single thing, not for one moment. I didn’t even think about it, and it was truly eye opening. I had a truckload of possessions hidden away in storage, and for weeks I forgot any of it even existed.
When I moved into my new home, I was very selective about what I brought with me. Half of what had been in storage didn’t make the cut. I spent time writing and working in the garden, and decided to turn the property into a small, sustainable urban farm. I added vegetable beds and a chicken coop, and brought the neglected fruit trees back to life. As the land flourished, my spirit did too.
It seemed that what I needed kept appearing at just the right time. I finally felt that I wanted to begin again putting energy back into serving through my writing, speaking, and coaching, and I was amazed at how my experiences had empowered me to be stronger in every area.
The lessons that have come from this past couple of years will fuel me for the rest of my life. I thought moving on from my old life and into a new one would be one of the hardest things I would ever have to do, and it was. But, what I wasn’t expecting was that it would also be one of the most enlightening journeys I’ve ever made. I learned that simplicity, Love, authentic forgiveness, vulnerability and minimalism are the keys to creating a truly free life filled with light. I learned that getting really clear about what you want often times starts with getting really clear about what you really don’t.
This morning, in the middle of writing this article, my 11-year old German Shepherd, Venus, escaped the yard after the gardener accidently left the gate open. After several minutes of frantic searching, I found her a few blocks away sniffing around, happily trotting and wagging her tail, making new friends. Relieved, I bent down and put my arms around her. I looked her in the eyes and I could see a spark of bubbling joy. I realized that in those few minutes of wild abandon, she probably felt much the way I did during those healing days of freedom by the pool with my beloved tribe.
Instead of being angry with Venus for going out on her little adventure, I scratched her on the head with an understanding touch, and she followed me home. I was grateful to her for reminding me that there are few things more valuable in life than life than living freely, and the willingness to allow ourselves to heal and grow by stepping out of what we’ve always known to explore uncharted waters.
Big hugs to you Kristi. Thanks for sharing your story. I love this quote: “I learned that simplicity, Love, authentic forgiveness, vulnerability and minimalism are the keys to creating a truly free life filled with light.”
Thanks so much Shann! I love those words as well and remind myself of them regularly. 🙂
Some time ago I set out in my Pontial G6, a simple little sedan with nominal space to carry the things I valued in my life. I stacked it up with my most valuable possession: my computer and perhipherals. My office chair. And a few clothes. I moved from Atlanta to Florida.
The land of sun and sand.
I felt happy that I could carry all the things that had meaning to me in this ordinary, little car. I drove to the Tampa area and rented a 400 square foot condo. It had a “living room” with a tiny couch and a single chair. An old-fashioned electric stove, a refrigerator and sink that wanted to call itself a “kitchen.”
Yes, it was Wonderful. It gave me a place to learn who I was. To meditate and decide which mind I wanted to listen to, to hear. I learned, over the 18 months in that tiny condo, many of the same things that led you to scratching your German Shepherd on the head when she took off on her “little adventures.” I learned that loving what is is the best thing we can do.
Congrats on your travel from “having” many things to “knowing” many things. I applaud you. Thank you for sharing. Love you. Keep on, Kristi. Hope we can connect at some point.