Tag Archives: Zen Habits

30 in 30

Last year when my daughter moved out to begin living her young adult life on her own, it ignited an interest in decluttering for me. Our stuff was no longer mingled together because she took some of her things with her and what’s left is either mine, or not needed at the moment.

One of my jobs is working with a company called Zen Habits, so Minimalism is a way of life for most of the people I work with. I’m not sure I’ll ever get to that level of simplistic living, but I’m making a valiant effort for Barb. The actual Minimalists are friends with the owner of Zen Habits, Leo Babauta and you’ve probably heard their names, Joshua Fields Milburn and Ryan Nicodemus. In their book, ‘Love People Use Things’, they unravel a fascinating tale toward their minimalism, but it’s not how I perceived it to be.

Minimalism is not about having less. It’s about making room for more of what matters.

The Minimalists

It all began when I started questioning my belongings by looking at each item and asking, “Does this thing add value to my life?” At one time it did and it may not mean much to me anymore, but I bet someone else would be thrilled to have it. This is where 30 in 30 comes into play by asking another question from The Minimalists, “What if you removed one material possession from your life each day for a month-just one-what would happen?” I walked next-door to borrow a giant box from Hercules and plopped it in the middle of the house.

This morning I was eyeing my wooden credenza where some of my favorite things are displayed, looking at each item and asking that question about value. I surprised myself by removing something I’ve had for years, but rarely use. This will bring joy to someone else, so into the box it went which already contains a few things because I began this practice days ago. This feels different than cleaning out cabinets, closets, or decluttering. These are items I live with everyday, and dust when required, but do they still add value to my life today?

As soon as I removed that one thing, I saw an empty space and was able to give the other items more space. I’m really starting to thrive in empty spaces.

With time this credenza could hold even less than what’s pictured here. The candle will burn out and be removed and the plant has numerous places to dwell in my home. What adds value to my life in this photo is my favorite lamp and some artwork is stored in the envelope propped behind the lamp waiting to be framed, but the most meaningful item is in the picture frame. It’s a notecard of a whimsical Emu I received from my friend Dawn at Aging With Grace.

I hope this inspires you to take a look around at everything you live with and as far as I know, 30 in 30 doesn’t include people, but I suppose it could.

The First Hour

The dogs know when they see me flip over the sand timer, I’m going to tap the keys for 30 minutes. That’s how long the sand will run, and about as long as I’m good sitting in one spot. I remember when I first started Blogging, I could sit here for hours, and the posts were long. That changed over time. Maybe time revealed how valuable it is. It the one thing we spend that will not return, so try to use it wisely.

I woke up early this morning and it was still dark outside. I didn’t dare turn on the bedside lamp, or the dogs would think it was time to get up. They don’t move until they see the new day streaming in through the windows. It’s cloudy, so the day was here without them knowing it. I sat in darkness and listened to the stillness of the house. I could hear warm air coming in through the vents and was grateful for heat. I knew if I pulled the chain of the lamp beside me, it would illuminate the room, so I was grateful for electricity. There were many things to be grateful for, even the bed I was sitting on, blanketed in warmth.

Leo Babauta says, “There’s a deliciousness to the early morning.” We get to choose to roll out of bed and dive into the day, or wake up early to greet it. The first hour is sacred, and sets the tone for the rest of day.

I walked through the house, lit a candle, and made a cup of coffee. There is one lamp burning brightly as I sit at my desk and type. A nearby clock is ticking more loudly than my typing, but the house remains still. The sand timer has emptied, but I’m not ready to move just yet, because once I do, the house will spring to life. Thank you for sitting here with me in this stillness of the first hour.