William Morris With A Twist
A clean slate. A loosening of ourselves from the ill-fitting past in order to receive the better-fitting future. With it comes the feeling of new energy and clear focus, of endless possibilites free from the distractions of superfluous claptrap. Breathe deeply.
It can happen in big ways and small, this cleaning out. Take the dangling minute here, and the one over there and clean out a drawer, or toss the old sneakers, or put the outgrown jeans into the bin for donation. Sometimes, though, it takes more than that. It takes ink on the calendar and dedicated hours of intentional engagement to really set things right.
Feeling the deep calm that comes when the slate is clean, though, isn't enough. Simplicity has to be nurtured and tended. Because simplicity isn't a feeling alone; it's an act. It's trimming the sails to maintain the course.
That's why this past Sunday afternoon found me in the loft with two boys who were deep-diving under the beds. That's why several days this week have time earmarked for different nook-and-cranny clean-outs in the house and sheds. Roll up the sleeves, get to work.
We're forever learning about ourselves. Who are we now? Where are we now? We're defining and refining. I recently read about having a personal List of 100 Dreams on which you write both the big and the small. The key step following this is, when you try each of those dreams and maybe find that not all are a fit, you remove the ill-fitted from the list. Edit. Subtract. Distill. Life shifting requires life sifting in order to keep the peaceful flow.
There are many guidelines and gurus out there offering advice on how to go about this purging and sorting, but I'm not sure there could be more simple direction than this:
“Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.”
To which I might add:
Is it useful and beautiful for our lives right now?
William Morris with a twist.