The Joy of Less

by Amy Newmark

  ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

  “What are we going to do with all this stuff?” I asked my husband while I sniffled and wiped away tears.

  Mark came up with a solution, “Why don’t we have a fire drill?”

  I gave him a blank stare and then it came to me, “Of course, let’s do it!”

  We had moved thirty-two times in thirty-five years, so we were accustomed to the moving part, but we weren’t so good at getting rid of stuff. Our “baggage” kept following us around the world. This was our last international move and we were only taking six suitcases with us to Ecuador. After the garage sale, we still had books, photo albums, the boys’ baby things, all their schoolwork and awards, dishes, and clothes. The boxes filled the entire living room and we had exactly one week before we had to vacate our home so the new owners could move in.

  Mark suggested that we set the kitchen timer for ten-minute “fire drills” and take everything of importance and place it on the dining room table.

  I actually felt like I was in a race for my life and carefully scoped out the living room and its contents; I already knew what box I would salvage first.

  “Ready, set, go!” Mark shouted. I could hear the timer ticking in the background as I ran to the baby and family photo albums first. There were four heavy boxes and I had to scoot them across the living room into the dining room. Whatever I placed on the table would eventually have to fit into six suitcases, so I had to be selective.

  I heard the timer go off just as I dragged the last box into the dining room. As I glanced at the cardboard boxes, I realized there was already too much stuff and we had just started. I picked up our younger son’s baby album and opened it to the first page. Tears trickled down my cheeks and then an envelope dropped out of the album. Mark grabbed it up off the floor and opened its contents. “What’s this?” he asked in pure disbelief.

  We had pared thirty-five years down to six suitcases.

  “That’s Jon’s umbilical cord clamp,” I whimpered, and snatched it from his hand. “It’s coming with me and that’s final.”

  I had spent untold hours on each album. How was I ever going to let go of all those memories and the boxes of photos that had followed us around for thirty-five years? There was absolutely no way I could part with those photos and the family heritage album that took me a year to complete. I lingered on each page of the boys’ albums — recalling all their “firsts”: first smile, first tooth, first words, and the first day of school. Jeremy — our older son — didn’t want his picture taken the first day of kindergarten, but after some coaxing he proudly posed with his Ninja Turtles lunchbox by the juniper trees in the front yard. I could almost smell the peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crust cut off — just the way he liked it!

  While I held on tightly to Jon’s umbilical cord clamp, Mark suggested an alternative. “Let’s put all the albums in these sealable blue tubs and give them to the boys for safekeeping.”

  What a great idea, I thought. Why didn’t I think of that?

  That was round one of the fire drills and it took approximately six more to whittle the living room down to three medium-sized boxes — none of which was going in our suitcases, but to the boys. The boxes now contained family heirlooms, including Mark’s grandfather’s mandolin from Sicily. We labeled each bin with all of its contents on the side and on the top of the lid, so if I ever felt like I absolutely needed something it would be easy to locate.

  The other boxes labeled “Goodwill” and “incinerator” were easy to take care of and we did that the following day. Our home was empty except for six suitcases, which mostly contained clothes. The blue tubs were stacked by the front door to be distributed to our sons — ages twenty-three and twenty-eight. Since our younger son was getting married, my future daughter-in-law, Kim, had already requested Jon’s baby albums and I lovingly handed them over to her.

  At age fifty-five, we had done something we never thought was possible. The stuff that had been following us around was finally gone. We had pared thirty-five years down to six suitcases.

  It’s been five years since we “cleaned” house and gave up or gave away all of our worldly possessions. We’ve never looked back. We’ve spared our children the trauma of having to go through all of our stuff when we pass away. And now that there’s just the two of us in our small two-bedroom, two-bath sparsely furnished condo, we have a new lease on life. Letting go of our possessions gave us the freedom to do the things we’ve always wanted to do — like traveling the world, learning new languages, and teaching ESL (English as a Second Language). There’s nothing tying us down or holding us back. We’ve never been happier. And we don’t need to have any more “fire drills.”

  ~Connie K. Pombo

  A Heart Full of Memories

  I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.

  ~Mary Anne Radmacher

  “There is no way I can live out of a suitcase!” I thought as we packed up our home in Venice, Italy. At fourteen years old, I couldn’t imagine leaving my friends, school, and all my “stuff” behind to travel the world full-time with my family.

  At the time, we were all going in different directions — my sister and I were stressed and focused on school and were rarely home and my parents were focused on work. I was focused on my friends, the latest gadget, and the current fashions — always wanting to buy new clothes that “fit in.” Between doing my homework, texting, seeing my friends, and going to my activities, I rarely had time to spend with my family. It felt like we never saw each other even though we lived under the same roof.

  That was when my mom had the idea of dropping everything to travel the world and reconnect as a family. One day she sat us down at the kitchen table and proposed the idea, which at the time seemed so crazy. Although I absolutely loved the idea of traveling the world freely, I couldn’t imagine leaving my life behind. After several months of planning, packing, and saying goodbye to our old lives, off we went to explore the world with no end date in sight!

  That was over two years, thirty-eight countries, and four continents ago! During that time, we have realized how little we really need to be happy. We have learned how the most important moments in life aren’t when we get new gifts or things, but when we live happy moments with our family and friends. We know now that experiences are the best treasures.

  As we travel, we barely carry anything with us except the essential things like clothes, a laptop, notebooks, and toiletries. We each carry a backpack and all five of us share two suitcases for clothes. After buying new trinkets or new clothes, we give some of our old outfits away to people in need and it makes us so happy to be able to give back wherever we can.

  The small amount of baggage we have makes it easy to travel from country to country on planes, trains, buses, ferries, tuk tuks, etc. By traveling so light, we get to do more with less. We are free to explore countries easily and move around as much as we like. Many times we even make spontaneous travel plans and it is so easy to pack up our stuff and go!

  At the beginning, it was difficult for us to get used to never having a closet, constantly changing hotel rooms, and never fully unpacking before we were back on the road. But over time we have learned to appreciate the value of having less — the freedom to live for experiences and the joy of traveling “light” in mind, body, and spirit.

  I can honestly say that travel is the best way for a family to become close again, since it takes away all the distractions and reminds us of what is really important.

  Meeting new people and getting to know their cultures has been the best part of traveling for me. Instead of focusing on things, we love to focus on the people and connect with them. Wherever we go, we try to make as many friends as we can and feel like we have “family” in countries all over the world!

  Many of the wonderful new friends we have made on our journey have opened our eyes to how lucky we are. We have met families in many parts of the world who live in small
homes with no running water or on the streets escaping war and violence, yet they always have huge smiles and are willing to share with us.

  Without all the distractions that we used to have, we have become connected as a family! I can honestly say that travel is the best way for a family to become close again, since it takes away all the distractions and reminds us of what is really important. We now know that experiences and memories are the most valuable things in life and that they can only be acquired when we let go of our need for possessions and focus on what really matters in life — enjoying our lives each day with the people we love.

  So I would now say to my fourteen-year-old self, “I will gladly give up a home full of stuff to live out of a suitcase with a heart full of memories!”

  ~Kaitlin Murray, age 17

  Release the Stuff, Unleash the Magic

  All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them.

  ~Walt Disney

  “How would you feel about selling most of our stuff, packing up the Prius and hitting the road on a cross-country adventure?” We were sitting in our rented duplex in Richmond, Virginia, surrounded by books, furniture, antiques and paintings. It felt heavy, suffocating even.

  We had just returned from a three-week adventure in Tunisia and France, my husband’s birthplace and childhood home, respectively. Living life from two suitcases each had been surprisingly easy, not to mention freeing. About every three days we were someplace new, experiencing everything from budget living to five-star luxury. One night, while staying with family members whose home had no heat, we huddled underneath seven layers of blankets to keep warm. Having just put on our winter hats to sleep in for the first time, our eyes met in the dark and we both broke into huge grins. “This is fantastic!” we exclaimed. While some travelers might have yearned to be back at the five-star resort, we loved all the diverse experiences. The food, the people, and the places were all new and exciting adventures.

  Now we were back in the comfort of our own home, surrounded by all our stuff, and feeling… stuck.

  My first book had just been published and most of my days were spent at home writing and working out how to market the book effectively to its target audience. I was buried under marketing materials, formulas for success and books that claimed to teach me everything I needed to know. But what I really yearned for was to connect with people in person. To have face-to-face conversations rather than deciphering emotions behind e-mails and exhausting myself keeping up with social media’s many likes, shares and comments.

  That’s when the idea came to me. Thanks to this technology I could technically work from anywhere. And our recent trip proved living out of a few suitcases was not only possible, it was fun.

  Life feels like freedom now. Not stuck under stuff and feeling overwhelmed.

  “Yes!” It took my husband a split second to answer in the affirmative.

  And so the challenge of living with less “stuff” began.

  The decision took a split second but letting go of our possessions and getting our affairs in order took four months.

  We put in our notice to leave our rented home, had yard sales, listed items on craigslist, consigned clothing and donated to local charities. With the release of each piece we were relieved as greater peace of mind washed over us. I was feeling lighter, freer, and more excited at the possibilities that opened up with each passing day.

  We arranged to have our mail forwarded and changed as many accounts as we could to online statements. We rented a small storage unit for the few things that we wanted to keep.

  With each item, we asked ourselves: Do we love it? Do we use it? If the answer was no to both it was thrown out or sent to a new home.

  One day I was looking through a pile of business cards. I came across a person I had met at a conference for aspiring book authors. She was a lovely woman who I wished I had kept in touch with. I probably hadn’t because her card got lost in the pile of cards I had stored. There was no website or e-mail address, just a phone number. I felt weird calling, wondering what I could say and if she would remember me. So, I said out loud in the empty room, “If I’m meant to meet this woman again, may you bring her to cross my path once again.” Speaking to God, angels, the universe, or whatever higher power handled that kind of stuff, I hoped they would hear me.

  Then I let go of the card and forgot all about it.

  I began booking events for my book launch, and friends and family offered their homes for us to stay for short periods when we were in town. It seemed the more we released the more magic happened. Out of the blue, a woman I went to grade school with had seen my book come up as recommended reading on her Amazon list and contacted me. She was living in Illinois with her husband and five kids and invited us to stay and even got me local events and my book featured in a local book club!

  In April 2014, we set off, our Prius packed, Pittsburgh-bound for the night as we made our way to my hometown in Michigan. As we drove out of Virginia, my husband and I looked at each other in awe. We did it! We really did it!

  A few hours later we booked a last-minute hotel through an app on my phone. Later that night, we arrived in the wet and windy city. We went to the front desk to check in only to discover they had no record of our reservation.

  I started to freak out inside. Had we made a huge mistake? Should we have just stayed safe, at home with all our stuff?

  Seeing the look of terror in my eyes, or just sensing my fear, the receptionist said kindly. “Don’t worry, it all works out in the end.” Then he repeated it. Twice. It all works out in the end. Message received, angels.

  And it did work out. Only ten minutes later we were entering our room, which turned out to be a two-bedroom suite with full kitchen, sitting and dining room, along with a wrap-around balcony. Bliss.

  We dubbed our adventure the JOYride and met so many amazing people along the way. We cooked together, ate out together, explored cities and connected with heart-to-heart conversations. Many of the people we met we now consider family.

  So many magical moments occurred, including reconnecting with the woman whose card I threw away. She happened to be speaking after me at one of the events! Our books had only been thoughts in our heads when we first met and now we reconnected as authors. That higher power had heard me after all.

  What initially began as a book tour has now become a new way of life. Instead of staying with friends and family, we house-sit across the country, and continue to connect with new people and enjoy pet-sitting and exploring new cities.

  Releasing stuff wasn’t always easy, but it was worth it. When we came back through Richmond a year later, we even released more from our storage unit, knowing we were happy to live with less and share the joy of some of those items with others.

  Life feels like freedom now. Not stuck under stuff and feeling overwhelmed. Now our lives are filled with more joy and magic than we ever could have imagined.

  Here’s my mantra: Release the stuff, unleash the magic.

  ~Aimee DuFresne

  Count Your Blessings

  Someone Else’s Blessing

  Help one another; there’s no time like the present and no present like the time.

  ~James Durst

  I clenched the phone in my hand, blew out a deep breath, and muttered, “Okay Lord, here goes nothing.”

  My friend answered on the first ring. I closed my eyes and said, “Hi, it’s Jeanie. I need your advice.”

  “Sure,” she answered cheerfully. “What’s up?”

  “What should I do if a good friend offers to help me with something, but I’m too embarrassed to accept?”

  My friend thought for a moment. “Is it someone you trust?”

  “Definitely,” I replied.

  “And this person has the skills to help you?”

  “Yes,” I said, “But I’d be mortified if she saw how bad my problem is.”

  My friend poured out her gentle wisdom. “Jeanie, if a trusted friend wants to he
lp you, accept it graciously.”

  “Is that really how you feel?” I asked.

  “Absolutely,” she said. “Don’t let pride stand in your way.”

  I swallowed hard and said, “In that case, I’m coming over to help you get organized.”

  There was a long silence before my friend finally said, “That was an unfair set-up.”

  “True,” I agreed, “but you wouldn’t have let me in otherwise. I’m hopping in the car now. See you in a few minutes.”

  When I arrived, empty boxes in hand, she opened the door and said, “How many times have I told you I don’t have friends over because of this mess? It’s embarrassing.”

  I glanced at her gleaming hardwood floor and set the boxes beside her pristine sofa, glad I’d left my hazmat suit in the car.

  Every time I helped friends get organized I always asked my trademark question: “Are you holding on to someone else’s blessing?”

  Glancing at the tidy, sun-swept living room, I suspected this wouldn’t be the case.

  From what she’d described over the years, I’d come prepared for the worst. Maybe her hoard lurked in the hidden depths of her basement.

  “Let’s walk through your house and you can show me the problem areas,” I suggested.

  She gloomily pointed out a remodeling project in one room, a figurine-jammed display hutch, and an overly full bedroom. In her airy finished basement a few scattered items sat along one wall.

  This is what worried her? What kept her friends locked out for years? I’d expected Mount Mess. This didn’t even qualify as a foothill.

  “Level with me. How bad is it?” she asked, worry clouding her beautiful eyes.

  Every time I helped friends get organized I always asked my trademark question: “Are you holding on to someone else’s blessing?”

  “Your biggest problem is thinking you have a horrible mess. You don’t. You have some things out of order. Nothing major. Definitely no hoard.”