It all started last January. My baby was sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. He was just starting down the delicious road of never ending ear infections (of course, I didn’t know it at the time) and the only thing I could do to soothe him was to hold upright all night long.
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried holding a baby all night but it’s not real conducive to sleep so I browsed the inter-webs. My little family lives in a (relatively) small home. There are (currently) five of us in our little home and we never seemed to have enough room. It was driving me batty. It’s hard enough to have a cluttered, messy home when you can escape during the day but, seeing as I’m a stay-at-home mom, I don’t go anywhere so I’m essentially trapped in my mess. All day. Everyday.
So, as I was browsing Google for ideas to “get organized” I happened into the world of minimalism. I became obessed. I spent all that night and several days following pouring through the archives of The Minimalists, Becoming Minimalist, and Project 333. I watched a full lenght documentary on tiny houses. (Watch it here.) There was an entire world I’d never heard of but I heard truth in every word. I felt inspired. I was ready for change and I was ready to take the plunge.
I started small. I went through my closets and drawers. I took things straight to the donation center before I could change my mind. I was on a mission.
And then I fizzled.
Time went by.
Life got busy.
And I reverted to my old habits.
Flash forward 8 months:
I soon found myself pining for a bigger house again. I’d think, “when we have a bigger house I want it to have this and that. I wanted another bathroom, a living room separate from the family room. I wanted a place to put all my “stuff.” Then a friend of mine texted to let me know they were building a beautiful, new home. It had a kitchen of my dreams. It had walk-in closets. It had a 3 car garage. And I was envious. And it made my hubby feel bad, like he wasn’t providing the life I longed for. And that was NOT the person I wanted to be. I wanted to be a content, non-consumer driven person that was happy with the truly wonderful life she has. But how did I get back? How would I shake my feelings of envy and my desire to have more?
I dove back in, is what I did. I “surrounded” myself with people I wanted to be like. I found those same websites I’d forgotten about and read their new posts.
And I’m happy to say, I’m on the road to recovery. I’m finding who I really am. I nurturing habits I want to have. I know it’s a never-ending path but I feel like, after wandering in the woods, dazed and confused, I’ve now found the route to enlightenment. I’ve found my course and am plodding my way through the much to a new me.
I’m finding me.