As you know, if you've been reading my blog, my personal minimalist movement has been a deconstruction of sorts. As I've purged a lot of physical things, I've faced my non-physical clutter as well.
The theme to many quotes about minimalism on my favorite blog suggests that pursuing a minimalist life allows one to focus on what's most important, to follow dreams that have been hidden, and to have bigger dreams than owning stuff.
Maybe it's part of the process, but I'm not dreaming big. The most important things to me are helping people, hosting people in my home, and someday becoming a grandma. Somehow by reading all the inspirational quotes about minimalism, I've become ashamed of my simple goals. There continues to be outside pressures to do more, be busy, consume, and produce. I don't feel the need to explain myself to the people that apply the pressure and I especially am not trying to convert anyone to minimalism. It is a personal movement (period).
One day the scale of helping people may change from one person or family at a time to helping the masses. My simple dinner guest invites followed by a joyful board game may turn in to a feast to feed thousands. Maybe my children will never have children, but I'll be that person who goes to Grandparents Day with a neighborhood kid or two. I'm not sure, but I really want to shed the shame.
So Dream Weaver, I believe we can make it through the night. (And yes, I'm singing those lyrics as I type them.) Tomorrow's a new day and I'm on a journey to better myself and help others. I've got more work to do and I will simply be open to opportunities that present themselves and align with my goals. I am shedding the shame and accepting the reality that my personal journey is just that. I have not reached my destination.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Shall It Stay or Shall It Go?
This is a big question for me as I continue my personal minimalist journey. Last night I challenged myself to fill a laundry basket four times with items to donate. I made three baskets full and called it a day. It was emotionally draining to look at these items that were in perfectly good shape and most of them never used. But that's the thing, they've never been used. I know I had a reason for buying them and great plans for the items but they overwhelm me.
I've made a new friend recently and after walking with her each day for over a week and talking about two hours during the walks she questioned my statement that I am not a creative person and have no talent when it comes to art. It's true, by the way; I can barely make stick figures, I don't sew, I can't paint, I don't make jewelry, scrapbook, or anything else. I can tell you I've given each of them a fervent try and the stress the projects created far outweighed any benefits of the finished product.
So I am allowing myself to release these precious items knowing there will be a talented artist, craftsman/woman, or simply a kid wanting to explore that will make great use of the items. I have made a promise that I will only purchase items that have an immediate use. That means a 48 hour turn around in my case because if I do attempt anything crafts, it will be a super easy project. I know others that live and breathe arts and crafts and I admire them. They can turn anything into something beautiful. The world needs people like that. I'm just saying I'm not one of them and that's okay too.
I guess this is part of my transition. Recognizing that as much as I love people who make beautiful things and find their work so inspiring I wish to emulate them, that's not where my skills lie. This personal minimalist movement of mine is radically changing the way I view myself and things I allow to hold space in my home and my mind. I'm working towards a clean slate of sorts. I wish be extremely intentional when I chose to add something. It will be beneficial, loved, and something that evokes emotion or action.
I've made a new friend recently and after walking with her each day for over a week and talking about two hours during the walks she questioned my statement that I am not a creative person and have no talent when it comes to art. It's true, by the way; I can barely make stick figures, I don't sew, I can't paint, I don't make jewelry, scrapbook, or anything else. I can tell you I've given each of them a fervent try and the stress the projects created far outweighed any benefits of the finished product.
So I am allowing myself to release these precious items knowing there will be a talented artist, craftsman/woman, or simply a kid wanting to explore that will make great use of the items. I have made a promise that I will only purchase items that have an immediate use. That means a 48 hour turn around in my case because if I do attempt anything crafts, it will be a super easy project. I know others that live and breathe arts and crafts and I admire them. They can turn anything into something beautiful. The world needs people like that. I'm just saying I'm not one of them and that's okay too.
I guess this is part of my transition. Recognizing that as much as I love people who make beautiful things and find their work so inspiring I wish to emulate them, that's not where my skills lie. This personal minimalist movement of mine is radically changing the way I view myself and things I allow to hold space in my home and my mind. I'm working towards a clean slate of sorts. I wish be extremely intentional when I chose to add something. It will be beneficial, loved, and something that evokes emotion or action.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
What's my worth?
It happens this time of year every year. I'm in my peak physical and mental condition. I feel strong and ready to tackle the world. I struggle with the intense desire to get a job, not just to add a little income to the family budget, but to "prove" my worth. My husband tells me frequently that he cannot put a value on the duties and tasks I perform as a stay-at-home mom. My family does not take me for granted.
This begs the question in my mind, have I bought into the idea that business defines me? Is it just human connections I crave, more person to person interaction than my current situation offers? It's getting harder to justify to others the value of my stay-at-home status when my kids have now both graduated from high school.
Do I define my worth simply as a child of God? A mother? A daughter? A wife? A friend? Anyone can have similar labels but am I do I excel in each of my roles? Is that my worth?
~~~~~~~~~Screeching Halt~~~~~~~Girl Interrupted~~~~~~~~Trigger Warning Alert~~~~~~~~~
The thoughts shared above were rattling around in my brain earlier this week as many things about my children's future were in the air. I was feeling frustrated with my emotions as they mature and are learning to fly. I also ran out of a very important medication in my wellness plan that helps me stabilize my emotions regarding my PTSD. I'm in a bad timing period with a new mail order prescription plan. My doctor will only prescribe refills when I am at my appointment and that's not until next Monday.
I have gotten fewer a fewer sleep time as the nightmares invade my brain. The lack of sleep makes dealing with triggers in the day time harder to manage. I'm still able to use my tools but it is utterly exhausting. The exhaustion fuels the inability to to concentrate and process any new information. And then I break.
It happened last night. I took my medication, including a high dose of a particular sleep medication, and went to bed. I had a nightmare within a dream. My nightmare was my trauma. I was being raped, my perineum was tearing, I was screaming and no one could hear me. In the dream I was waking up from the nightmare and things were warped as well. I couldn't calm down. I could't get myself to wake up. I was in an infinite loop of trauma.
When I finally awoke I was experiencing the trauma physically and mentally. I felt pain in my perineum area. Every muscle was wrought with tension and it hurt to move. My brain was reeling with the emotions associated with the trauma. I am violated. I am voiceless. I am so very broken.
My night ended with a trip to the ER to manage the anxiety response and get medications to help me sleep. The snowball needed to slow its roll.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Back to the previous programming/post~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You may being seeing way I struggle with the question of my worth. Would you have coffee with me? Am I worth the time? Would you share a meal at my house or be terrified and assume the food would be uneatable because of our dietary restrictions? Would you use your time to sit with me and distract me from the pain by talking about nothing and everything?
I'm not busy in the modern sense of the word. Do I have to be to be worthy of someone's time? Does it mean more for me to have coffee with you if I give you a litany of things I put off to prioritize time spent with you? Is it easier to to say no because the perception is I'm always available?
I guess what I'm saying is that I don't feel like I'm the one that defines my worth. It's only what the market will bear. So maybe you can help answer the question, what's my worth?
This begs the question in my mind, have I bought into the idea that business defines me? Is it just human connections I crave, more person to person interaction than my current situation offers? It's getting harder to justify to others the value of my stay-at-home status when my kids have now both graduated from high school.
Do I define my worth simply as a child of God? A mother? A daughter? A wife? A friend? Anyone can have similar labels but am I do I excel in each of my roles? Is that my worth?
~~~~~~~~~Screeching Halt~~~~~~~Girl Interrupted~~~~~~~~Trigger Warning Alert~~~~~~~~~
The thoughts shared above were rattling around in my brain earlier this week as many things about my children's future were in the air. I was feeling frustrated with my emotions as they mature and are learning to fly. I also ran out of a very important medication in my wellness plan that helps me stabilize my emotions regarding my PTSD. I'm in a bad timing period with a new mail order prescription plan. My doctor will only prescribe refills when I am at my appointment and that's not until next Monday.
I have gotten fewer a fewer sleep time as the nightmares invade my brain. The lack of sleep makes dealing with triggers in the day time harder to manage. I'm still able to use my tools but it is utterly exhausting. The exhaustion fuels the inability to to concentrate and process any new information. And then I break.
It happened last night. I took my medication, including a high dose of a particular sleep medication, and went to bed. I had a nightmare within a dream. My nightmare was my trauma. I was being raped, my perineum was tearing, I was screaming and no one could hear me. In the dream I was waking up from the nightmare and things were warped as well. I couldn't calm down. I could't get myself to wake up. I was in an infinite loop of trauma.
When I finally awoke I was experiencing the trauma physically and mentally. I felt pain in my perineum area. Every muscle was wrought with tension and it hurt to move. My brain was reeling with the emotions associated with the trauma. I am violated. I am voiceless. I am so very broken.
My night ended with a trip to the ER to manage the anxiety response and get medications to help me sleep. The snowball needed to slow its roll.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Back to the previous programming/post~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You may being seeing way I struggle with the question of my worth. Would you have coffee with me? Am I worth the time? Would you share a meal at my house or be terrified and assume the food would be uneatable because of our dietary restrictions? Would you use your time to sit with me and distract me from the pain by talking about nothing and everything?
I'm not busy in the modern sense of the word. Do I have to be to be worthy of someone's time? Does it mean more for me to have coffee with you if I give you a litany of things I put off to prioritize time spent with you? Is it easier to to say no because the perception is I'm always available?
I guess what I'm saying is that I don't feel like I'm the one that defines my worth. It's only what the market will bear. So maybe you can help answer the question, what's my worth?
Monday, July 6, 2015
Soothing Calmness
As I type one handed in the comfort of my front room, my husband's head is resting in my lap. The pups are sprawled out on the floor at my feet and the only sound is each of them snoring ever so slightly. They are relaxed and peaceful. I'm loving it. Sure there's a few things on my to-do list but they are not critical and will wait.
This moment is deeply satisfying to me as much as them. This is my now. It is also a glimpse of the future as I have stayed true to my personal minimalist movement. The bubs (our nickname for the dogs) and I walked 4 miles at the crack of dawn. When we returned home, just after 7am, My Love was finishing sharpening the mower blades. He reassembled the mower and I cut grass as he tended to the flower bed. We continued to have a productive morning and I took my siesta at 1pm while he ran a few errands.
So now it's his turn for a well deserved siesta. There was a time, numerous years ago, when My Love dreaded coming home because of the chaotic clutter. He slept to escape, not recharge. He was not relaxed nor peaceful. I have come a long way. The dramatic effects of minimizing have snowballed, ever so wonderfully, not only in our home and in my head space, but to the entire family. There is a calmness that is soothing.
My wish for those who read my blog and are on their own journey, is that they will experience the soothing calmness I feel right now. I know it's attainable and I hope you know it as well.
This moment is deeply satisfying to me as much as them. This is my now. It is also a glimpse of the future as I have stayed true to my personal minimalist movement. The bubs (our nickname for the dogs) and I walked 4 miles at the crack of dawn. When we returned home, just after 7am, My Love was finishing sharpening the mower blades. He reassembled the mower and I cut grass as he tended to the flower bed. We continued to have a productive morning and I took my siesta at 1pm while he ran a few errands.
So now it's his turn for a well deserved siesta. There was a time, numerous years ago, when My Love dreaded coming home because of the chaotic clutter. He slept to escape, not recharge. He was not relaxed nor peaceful. I have come a long way. The dramatic effects of minimizing have snowballed, ever so wonderfully, not only in our home and in my head space, but to the entire family. There is a calmness that is soothing.
My wish for those who read my blog and are on their own journey, is that they will experience the soothing calmness I feel right now. I know it's attainable and I hope you know it as well.
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