The Evolution of Essentialism

I've watched it unfolding over the past few years. It starts with organizing. You wake up one morning and say "wow - I've got so much stuff, and it's lying everywhere. It's messy here!" So you grab the garbage bags and clear plastic bins and a label maker and get to work. In the end you may not have given much away, but you sure are organized! Your 200 pairs of shoes are now color coordinated by season. And you feel good about your life. For a while.

But then a few months (or years) later you wake up and say "I still have too much stuff, even if it's organized." So you start the decluttering process. you look at your stuff with fresh eyes. You begin to ask an important question: "Do I WANT this?" With your garbage bags in hand you sweep through your home again, your eye now on what may be clutter.

Being a writer, I love words, and seeing how definitions can really help us understand concepts more completely, I looked up the meaning of "clutter." One definition is that clutter is all of the things that are on a radar screen that are not the target. Perfect! Let's get rid of that "flock of seagulls" so we can focus on the missile silo.

By the end of this process you may have gotten rid of half of your possessions. These are the half empty paint cans, broken lamps, books you'll never read, extra photos (or negatives), clothes you wore when you were 15. You know - clutter.

By this time you should be starting to feel REALLY good about yourself, and you do! For a while. Then it starts to feel like you've vacuumed the floor but now see everything needs a good dusting. You've only scratched the surface. What could possibly be left?

Simplifying. You've organized your stuff, gotten rid of some of the clutter, but now you want to simplify. I noticed this step in the Essentializing Process about two years ago, with the rise of Marie Kondo. I think she's a genius. Beyond everything else, her work focuses on what brings you joy. Only keep Happy.

Simplifying is a whole new game. It focuses less on the "what" and more on the "why." This is essential because we now start to get to the energy of consuming, the psychology of why you do what you do. Simple is not only organized, it's clean, it helps us know where our keys are because we can now SEE our keys on the table, no longer buried under pounds of paperwork.

One more sweep of the house with simplifying in mind. Recipes can be found online - I don't need 200 cookbooks. I can scan all of my extra pictures and store them on my laptop. I can find all of the user's manuals for my electronics online. I only use these 20 spices. I now plan meals up to two weeks in advance, and love freezer crockpot meals.

Now you sit in your simplified life and feel content for a while, but (there's always a "but" isn't there?) then that niggling starts again. Something's not quite right. Enter the tiny house movement, exit the extravagant lifestyles, huge homes, and living beyond your means. Enter Essentializing.

Have you ever been traveling and noticed how little you actually need to move through your days? I traveled through Italy for two weeks a few years ago, with only a carry on. Everyone said how fashionable I looked, even wearing the same clothes. Why? Because I strategized - two fabulous scarves, two spectacular necklaces, and clothes that all mixed and matched in interesting and beautiful ways (cabi clothes ARE the best for this! Check them out at www.susanrisher.cabionline.com). Why not do this at home?

Essential. What is basic, necessary, crucial. If I were to ask you "What's your favorite necklace? Bag? Earrings? Book? Knick knack?" Could you tell me? Have you ever thought about it? This is the start of thinking in Essential terms. We're just entering that time, so you're not behind. Unless you're still thinking you should start organizing all of your stuff. Then you may want to get started. Don't worry - you'll catch up. One you start, it's exhilarating, fun, even. I promise.

A few months ago I devised a method for helping me determine what was essential to me. I picked up my possessions one at a time, and told their story. When I heard what I was saying, it quickly became apparent if something was essential or not. Some things were someone else's, some were gifts from people (I forgot who), some were bought when I was going through my divorce in the early 90's. None of those were essential. 

Essential is someone looking at your books and seeing your soul. Essential is looking at that one vase sitting on your mantel and feeling its singular beauty. Essential is wearing your mom's diamond solitaire necklace every day because she was your best friend. Essential is owning 100 pieces of clothing that fit comfortably into one small closet. Essential is not buying a bigger place to get more room but feeling the expansiveness in your current dwelling because you now have more room (inside your head and outside).

Essential is probably not the last stop, but it's currently where I am and what I'm seeing as the current evolution. Essential is saving my life, my pocketbook, my sanity. What is essential, remains.

Susie's Evolution of Essentialism

Organizing - let's organize everything so it's neat!
Decluttering - let's get rid of the clutter, those things that distract us from our target!
Simplifying - let's get rid of the extras - keep only the things that bring us joy
Essentializing - let's focus on what is crucial, necessary, and basic to us. What represents Who We Are? The stories that we tell about every single object we own should be powerful stories of love, inspiration, creativity, and beauty. And we should BE able to tell the story of our possessions.

P.S. If you're having difficulty understanding what I mean when I say "what is essential to your Soul" (I don't know what my Soul feels like!), I'll be blogging about that process next time! Until then, please ask any questions in the comments below, and I'll be sure to answer them as soon as I can!

Being Present

I'm sitting with my dad at the restaurant. He lifts his wine glass, leans it slightly toward me, raises his eyebrows, and I raise my glass, and we clink. I keep looking at him, then I get the giggles. They start deep in my belly and start to rise up. I really shouldn't... There's nothing to BE laughing at.... And yet... And yet... I start laughing.

"What's so funny?" Dad asks.

"Nothing at all, Dad," I say, now wiping the tears away. "It just feels so darned good to be here with you."

He starts laughing. Now we're both laughing, louder now. I see the waiters behind us by the kitchen, looking at us.

A new feeling starts in my belly and spreads out through my whole body until the tears in my eyes aren't from the laughing. They're from the gratitude. I feel normal. Dad feels normal. "This" is normal.

Dad has difficulty standing now, and more difficulty walking. He is tired a lot. I make the 193 mile drive west every chance I get, in between home, and cabi, readings, my Essential Closet work, and my family. But it never seems like enough. I feel like I should, could, just STAY there with Dad. I don't think he'd like that very much, though. He doesn't really like us 'hovering' over him too much. I understand.

But I know he loves me being there. He trash talks me while we're playing cards that night after dinner.

"I suppose it makes you feel really great to be kicking my butt, Dad," I say.

"Yeah - it DOES feel pretty good. But it's really not that hard to beat you," he replies, smiling.

I get quiet, then say what I have been thinking for the last few months.

"You know, Dad - just because we can laugh and joke and be light-hearted doesn't mean that I don't understand what's going on for you. You know that, right? I just love spending time with you. You're always YOU, no matter what you can or can't do."

He nods.

I don't know if he likes talking about this, but sometimes I feel like he is in a bubble, looking out at the rest of the world, laughing and smiling and being his usual upbeat self, but inside that bubble, he may feel isolated, separate, like nobody really knows what it's like to be in there. And I may be making all of this up, but what I want to say is that I want to just be present with my father, every step of the way. I want to always say what I want to say, and I want him to say what he wants to say. And I always want him to know how wholly I love him. I think he knows.

I have to leave. I lean over his bed and resting my hand next to him I can fully reach him. I kiss right above his left cheek and feel his soft beard against my chin. Kiss kiss.

"I love you so much, Dad," I say. "Always."

"You're my precious bunny," he says.

"And you're MY precious bunny," I answer.

It's hard to see as I walk out of the home, heading for my car and back to MY home.