Yeah, me neither. But I suuuuure did want one.

To be 100% honest, I yearned for an office like that.

I sighed over the high-end woods and metals…pined for the sassy classy textiles tossed just-so on the lounging sofa…longed for the vast empty desk space to whistle while I worked…and whined for an upholstered wall with lots of inspiration and very few work reminders.

And I did all that sighing, pining, longing, and whining while slumped at an undersized, overwhelmed particleboard IKEA desk—in a small bedroom with barely enough room for rolling back my chair, forget an extra piece of furniture just for lying around and throwing blankets on.

If there was a square inch of empty space on my desk, I would’ve had to move the 8-inch stacks of paper and a rainbow snowbank of Post-Its to find it.

And if I wanted to find inspiration, my four blank beige walls with a few wilted postcards pinned to them were not the place to look.

This was my reality.

Reality? Check!

But the fantasy…oooooh, the fantasy!

I daydreamed of Pottery Barn’s pictured perfect spaces, full of bright windows and matching folders and furniture not made of dust and glue. In my sleeping dreams I walked among tall cabinets with tiny drawers full of treasures and sat at a gleaming empty desk.

And whether asleep or awake, I thought: “If I had an office like that, I would have a real business. And until I have that, I’m not a real business person. Because this mess of mine ain’t what a real business looks like.”

And then I found the first flaw.

I was flipping through yet another catalog and deep into the sighing, pining, and whining when I realized that none of the computer monitors had cords. Or the CPUs. Or the laptops either.

But then, what would be the point of cords when there were no outlets to plug them into?

Sometimes this was absurdly obvious, like the desk that was coyly positioned in the middle of a room. It was a shining steel-and-glass island floating in a sea of polished wood floor…

…that I’d have to abandon for the kitchen counter in four hours when the laptop battery died.

And good thing their office had those big windows for general lighting, because there were only two task lamps for the entire room. And, hey, how can someone pick the right folder when they’re the same color and alllll the way on the other side of the room?

It went downhill from there.

I’d finally seen those dream offices for what they were: Dreams. And someone else’s dreams, to boot.

Because my ideal office would need all kinds of lighting to shine me through the wee morning hours when I do my best work. And why have furniture to hold folders when I could organize my files digitally and get rid of paper altogether?

And it’d be pretty important to have cords to plug in and outlets to plug them into, wouldn’t ya think?

Sheesh…how was anyone supposed to get any real work done in there?

In the end….

As you’d guess, my real office looks nothing like those dreams. In fact, it looks like nothing…period.

I have a laptop, a portable wireless connection, a notepad, and a pouch of pens. And when I want to travel really light, I exchange the laptop for an iPad.

And that’s all.

No desk, no chair…no office.

Instead, my office is where I make it. Sometimes it’s in a noisy plaza across town and sometimes in a cafe downtown. Sometimes it’s a quiet corner of my local sandwich shop and sometimes it’s the soft sunny corner of my couch.

The world is my office.

I never pictured that. And those catalogs didn’t either.

So.

Please don’t compare and despair. The pictured perfect probably isn’t perfect for you! You’ll need more or less space, more or less light, more or less storage, more or less stuff.

Maybe you’ll discover you need a whole lot more. Maybe, like me, you’ll discover you need a whole lot less.

You’ll definitely need a way to plug stuff in

Don’t get me wrong, magazines and catalogs are great for ideas and inspiration, but only those. If you catch yourself sighing and longing and pining and whining, remember my opposite-of-office, chew on what would work best for you…

…and get real.

Crys Williams writes about ideas and tools for tiny online businesses over at Big Bright Bulb. Her office moves around, but you can always find her in the same place on Twitter: @bigbrightbulb.

I have the right to my own creative space
to draw a real or imaginary line around my domain and claim it for myself
to a door that closes
to absolute silence when I need it

I have the right to spread out
to interact with my ideas
to see them
to touch them
and doodle in the margins
until the ideas seep into my bones and become mine

I have a right to a sacred space
that is free from intrusions
that is free from guilt
that completely supports my spirit
that is truly sacred space
powerful as an ancient circle of standing stones

I have a right to fully inhabit my body and treat it with loving care
to a good night’s sleep, to clean teeth, warm hugs, and supportive ears

I have a right to a healthy relationship with myself
to choose gentleness
to change
to grow more deeply into my magnificent self
to learn to be my own best friend

I have a right to a space that allows me to become who I am
that helps me visualize my dreams so I can make them happen
that celebrates my gifts and all my senses
Because when I can hear my own deepest knowing, self-criticism dissolves
and in finding my own voice, I am better able to hear yours

I have a right to contribute something valuable to the world
I was born with gifts, talent and abilities that the world needs
While the world hungers for compassion, for wisdom, for beauty, for healing
my space gives me the grounding I need to courageously offer my service

I have a right to be here, in this world, at this time in history
Despite the risks of living, I know I am safe
I am loved
I belong
This life I’ve been given is a gift
and each day, I find gratitude
and new courage to live it

Comments? You’re invited to share thoughts or feelings that reading this brings up for you.

No comment to share? Feel free to add a little stone  -o-  to let me know you’re here and took the time to read (this delightful idea courtesy of Darcy).

Assuming you’ve had a restful night’s sleep, you wake up in the morning with a reserve of energy. Not like electricity, but like a battery. A rechargeable one.

You probably do some things that joyfully drain your battery — doing your creative work, for example. It takes energy, but it also gives you some too. Life is also full of things that drain the spirit’s battery, emptying us slowly throughout the day. There’s traffic, noise, stressful circumstances and depleting people, too. We lose this vitality without filling back up.

Perhaps you’d prefer to spend your finite energy on your work, creating revenue, using your gifts, sharing them. You can turn this desire into a sacred practice.

You deserve a sacred space

Because we live in a “more is more” culture, so many things compete for our time and energy that it becomes difficult to sense where appropriate boundaries are. What is enough? What is too much?

Boundaries? It’s a free for all. We throw up our hands in overwhelmed resignation. From this place, it’s too much effort to discern where to begin.

You can create a sacred boundary around you

It is possible to preserve and cultivate this precious energy. Even though it seems impossible with all the act-now offers and text messages and appointments and calls to return and errands to run (and even my phone rings as I type this). It is possible. You may just need to start small. Smaller than you’re accustomed to.

Unsubscribe

Unsubscribing is a perfect place to begin to reclaim your vitality and spirit. Even as you do these actions, you may incidentally improve others’ lives too. Consider these suggestions:

Unsubscribe from emails: As you look through your inbox, notice what depletes you. Notice if there are certain emails you never read. Start unsubscribing — including to this newsletter. If you don’t have the heart to offend the sender, many email programs allow you to set up a “rule” so that certain messages get automatically trashed bypassing your inbox. Same outcome: less email, more peace.
Unsubscribe from phone calls: When you get a solicitation — even at an odd hour — pick up the phone and ask to removed from the list belonging to the company calling you. Be kind to the solicitor and remember they’re working to pay the bills too. I like to say thank you at the end and wish them a good evening with a smile. It may be the only kindness they receive today.
Unsubscribe from mail: In the US, you can write “RTS” (return to sender) if a letter was mistakenly sent to you and it will be returned. If it was intended for you, call the company that sent it and ask to be removed from their mailing list. It’s worth the time. My insurance agent sends me letters occasionally asking if I’d like additional insurance products. When I emailed him today, I learned that I can unsubscribe from all their mailings at once — so I did. No hard feelings. No more junk.
Unsubscribe from advertisements: I’ve debated canceling the Sunday paper for this reason: I look through all those ads and feel all angsty and full of want for things I don’t really need. Another kind of advertisement (and feeling) comes from catalogs. If you receive them and don’t like how you feel when you look at them, pick up the phone. You’d be surprised how helpful the sales agents are — and how accustomed they are to this request. Not only will you save the company the expense of sending future mailings, you’ll save yourself the time of processing them and leaky energy that could be put to better use.

As you can see, this process is more than just organizing time or paper. I invite you to create just enough structure — to cultivate an environment that replenishes your precious energy.

Starting with these steps will enliven you and give the gift of peace to your future self. When excess email, calls, and paper decrease, what could have room to grow?

In its place, invite in more of what you want

To deepen your sense of sacred boundaries, imagine drawing around you a circle of light or flowers or love or ocean sounds (or whatever touchstones nourish you) that provide a healing, expansive buffer for your spirit. Your creative space can be like this. In the place of distraction, you can invite focus. In place of overwhelm you can invite clarity. In place of depletion, you can experience a full heart.

Start small. Nurture your spirit. See what unfolds.

“I like to write everything out by hand before I put it on the computer.”

“He tried to use a Palm for calendar stuff, but a little datebook just works better for making appointments.”

“I should probably be using QuickBooks, but the little paper system I use does the job.”

If it picking up a piece of paper to write on it  feels like a radical act, that’s because it is. The technology industry is so in love with its shiny-newness, there’s nothing it can’t save you from: paperwork, accounting, scheduling, staying in touch, and generating ideas, to name just a few.

If there isn’t an app for that, just wait a few months and there will be. If the phone you have doesn’t do what you want it to, just wait for the next version.

I get annoyed at the advertising for many of these shiny-new solutions because they tell you an untruth. They imply that what you create isn’t good enough. As if there’s something wrong or backward about writing on paper. Lots of people think that they are the problem when a gadget or program doesn’t work intuitively for them. “I’m too old,” they say. Or “I’m just not good at computer stuff.”

It’s not you. You’re perfect. You have the most powerful tool already inside you: your brain.

This is why it’s okay to buck the upgrade trend.

Here are some great downgrading tools that brains like:

• Paper – lined and blank, loose and bound, large and small, sticky and colorful.
• Writing implements – pens and pencils, crayons and markers, chalk and brushes

Paper and writing implements are both portable and need no docking station for recharging. There’s no learning curve with downgraded solutions. “Ummm… Can you show me how to work this notepad?” : ) They’re comparatively inexpensive.

These items are also sensuous. Perhaps you’ve had the experience of being captivated by a fine stationery store, its fresh smell and luscious jewel-toned reams. Or lingered over beautifully crafted pens in a fine art gallery. There’s a whole-body sensory experience in selecting and using pen and paper.

A wonderful aspect of using these tools is that they slow you down. In our sped-up culture, slowing down just a little creates relaxation and flow. Typing is fast, but the act of writing something with your hand allows your brain to work differently. I’ve experienced huge epiphanies drawing diagrams on paper that I couldn’t have achieved using a drawing program. Slowing down focuses your energies.

Other downgrade solutions include:

• paper calendars
• calculators
• telephones with a cord
• face to face conversations

At the end of our lives, no points will be awarded for getting more done or faster than everyone else. Some day you, me, we all will die. So what do you want from this life? What brings you the greatest satisfaction? If you enjoy using a paper calendar or meeting with people in person, what harm is there?

When it comes down to it, I believe that connection matters more than anything — deep connection that cultivates trust and love.

So I invite you to ask yourself:

Which tools allow me to deeply connect with myself, with others, and with the Divine? Which are most satisfying to my spirit?

Trust and listen what you know about yourself. Be curious. You may yet discover a way to put technology in its rightful place if you use the tools you love more often.

Bits of cat food on your chair. Your (insert relative)’s papers on your desk. Again. The noises from down the hall. Emails from a store you don’t frequent. What is that sticky stuff on the keyboard? Alone, they’re not a big deal. Combined, your workspace starts to feel scattered, overwhelming, and nothing like an oasis. It’s a place you want to escape from.

Many of my clients describe how unwelcome their space feels to them. When we talk one-on-one, I ask what boundaries have been established in their space and work flow. Often, people realize they’ve been adapting to the clutter, the intrusions, and the distraction. Most would prefer to avoid conflict about using the space. It’s just easier.

In the long run, having porous boundaries can affect how creative you are, how productive, how happy you feel, and how profitable your work is. Not only are boundaries useful, they’re vital.

40 days and 40 nights of practicing boundaries

I’ve been thinking about boundaries recently because the season of Lent is upon us. This year, I’m observing Lent as a 40-day spiritual exercise to help me become less attached to things that don’t nourish me. At the same time, I’m replacing those things with activities and choices that nourish my spirit.

So far, I’ve come to realize that the computer and internet access are a potent source of disconnection from spirit. It’s humbling. I use the computer for everything: the calendar, generating ideas, research, writing and er… lots and lots of fiddling. None of it is very spiritually nourishing and I noticed that I fall prey to the belief that the all-knowing Internet is God. It’s not. It’s a teensy speck of the Divine.

Lent requires boundaries — creative ones.

Based on past experience, I know it’s not enough to just decide not to use the computer for frittering.

A strategy helps. My strategy is to use the computer no more than 5 hours per day for only work-related work and scheduling. To give this resolution structure, I set 3 goals at the beginning of the day to accomplish and I’m using an online stopwatch (http://www.online-stopwatch.com/) to keep track of how long I’m using the computer.

Limiting access to the computer is only one part. I spent some time thinking about how and why I use the computer for frittering. Looking up obscure 80′s videos or reading about Oregon’s state bird on Wikipedia, for example. When I looked at this pattern compassionately, I realized that what I wanted and needed was a break. My brain was tired from work. I got curious about what else I might need – fresh air, a handful of almonds, a good long stretch. Research shows that taking these kinds of breaks allow us to work more productively. Considerably better than frittering.

During Lent, I’m developing my awareness for the times when I need a break. This will equal less computer time, but in a healthy, more holistic way. Granted, it’s only Day 1 of my doing this. We’ll see how I’m doing on April 21 when Lent officially ends.

Making boundaries visible

Humans are very visual creatures. In fact, our sight is our strongest sense. One of the things you can do to make your boundaries easier to honor is by making them visible.

For yourself: If you decided to use the computer less, you might give yourself a visual cue. Turning it off completely is one idea. I like putting mine to bed at the end of the day. I shut everything down and then cover it up with lovely green fabric. It’s not impossible to remove, obviously, but it’s enough of a visual cue that I don’t turn it back on.

For others: If you want family members to put papers in a specific area, give them something colorful to aim for. If you want to create a visual dividing line between your and your sweetie’s space, I’m a big fan of blue painter’s tape. It’s visible, not permanent, and inexpensive. With a little compassionate discussion, it can be a powerful tool to honor your space.

Taking it home

If you had to choose one area in your space that needed clearer boundaries, what would it be? Good candidates are any area that feels out of control or is a source of overwhelm. What would minimize or slow the flow? If you didn’t have that to contend with, what would you rather do in its place?

Boundaries continued

Later this month, I’ll be writing about how to know what your space boundaries are and ways to consciously honor them. You’ll get tools to bring some structure to the ideas you generated in the previous section. I’ll also keep you posted about my Lenten journey. Stay tuned!

Warmly,
Jennifer

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Have you ever noticed that your workspace is a container?

Your space is a vessel that holds your ideas, your dreams, your projects and everything you bring to your work. When things are squeezed in to the point of over-fullness, it’s hard for the good to come in – new clients, new ideas, and even income. This kind of abundance can make your work harder and thwart your best efforts.

If you take a peek with me into the clutter clearing process, one powerful discovery my clients find is how their stuff originates from choices they make or defer making. Ideally, you bring compassion and gentleness to this awareness, not guilt or self-judgment. Acknowledging your role allows you to choose differently. It sounds simple, but it’s quite profound. You can begin to create a healthy barrier that determines what can come into your space (from you) and what stays out.

This act of choosing, over time, allows your physical work environment to become spacious. You begin to have room for inspiration, for Divine gifts, for the freedom and peace you crave.

Taking choice a step beyond

One of the reasons I struggled with clutter and overwhelm for so long is because I believed that I can and should handle everything myself. In my assessment, no one could do anything as well. I often had this tight, clench-y feeling in my chest that blocked out my ability to receive help.

Underneath my belief that “I do it best” was a whole lot of fear: of losing control, of making mistakes, and fear of trusting someone else. Along with that fear came a lot of resentment that no one was helping me. (Oh, the irony.) I can hardly blame them.

What resulted from this belief was a stressed-out, over-committed, unhappy body and one very empty, dried-up heart.

If you relate, I want to gently remind you that when you’re filled up with anxiety, the “I’ll do its” and frantic pace, there’s not a lot of room for love to come in.

If you do it too, please know that you’re not doing it wrong. You’re perfect and you’re doing the best you know how. Take a moment to feel some compassion for you. You have a lot on your shoulders.

You don’t have to carry it all.

You really don’t. In fact, you physically can’t. I’ve tried myself and failed many times. If you consider how large the world is and how populated — with over 6 billion people and trillions more animals and plants — you can appreciate the impossibility of the arrangement of handling it all yourself.

So gently bring in some curiosity. What can you set down? It could be something physical in your space that you want to release. It could also be a belief or an assumption that’s weighing on you.

Maybe you’d like to sit with these two questions or journal about them and see what comes up for you: What can I set down? What do I need? As you do this, practice curiosity and compassion with yourself.

Heartfelt sharing

I just spent two days in a workshop with Mark Silver. It was so grounding and insightful, I came home feeling emptied of my inner clutter and deeply, deeply refreshed. I’m no poet, but I felt inspired to write about my experience. I offer it to you with humility.

I am a vessel. Everything I have comes from the Divine in love. All my gifts and talents are God-given. They are a gift to me – and I am grateful.

This shell, the vessel that is my body needs preparation to hold these gifts. For when I am full of accelerating foods and fatigue-inducing foods, when I am full of mistaken beliefs about who I really am, when I’m full of all the things I’m supposedly responsible for, when I am full of interesting but distracting information,

the Love can’t get in. The Compassion can’t get in. Deep, abiding acceptance is blocked from my heart before it can enter. In this place, I feel fully overwhelmed and empty at the same time.

The vessel that is my body needs love and protection. It needs a veil that limits how and what I consume. The precious vessel of my body has a limited capacity to hold, so I must release those things that do not nourish me. I choose to hand over anything that divides me from Source.

A vessel of Divine gifts
A servant to others
A pilgrim on a journey of love for God, for others, of self.

I am one very small part of something much greater than me — and I am grateful.

If this sharing moves you, read it again and let the “I/me” words mean you.

There is a lighter path ahead

Every small step toward self-care and space-care leads to growth. If you feel intimidated by your space, find ways to bring curiosity to your heart’s needs. If that feels too big, start with something super-small.

Just know that it’s possible to choose spaciousness by starting with the physical (your stuff) or with your heart (your beliefs and needs). It only takes a moment to set something down and make space for the love to come in.

A final word

You are more than your clutter or what overwhelms you. You deserve to be free of any excess that you carry and feel deeply nourished. You deserve to know how much you are loved — for you are.

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

~ Rumi (2)

With love,
Jennifer

Big dreams — and not enough space

Somewhere along the way you learned that giving others the space they needed was how to get along. You did it with a generous intention — you let others take what space they needed, then you set up a little corner in your home and squeezed yourself in.

Except it’s not working. Maybe it’s in a public area so you have to stuff it all into boxes when guests come. Maybe you’ve noticed that, over time, your space has gotten smaller as it fills with things in it that aren’t yours, that you don’t want, and that no one else wants either.

Eventually, you have no space of your own at all.

The costs of making do

My own life and my clients’ lives have shown that having inadequate space (or no space at all) has a significant impact on your spirit, your focus, your sense of well-being, and your ability to connect with people and projects that are life-giving. You downplay it and say that it’s not a big deal. It is.

Without a functional hub, you can hardly keep up with the physical materials, papers, and flotsam. Since you can’t find things, you turn to your memory to retain important details and deadlines. While you may have some success at this, your brain has limits. Things start slipping through the cracks. You forget important events and tasks. You feel overwhelmed. Others notice.

When it gets to this stage, you might think you’re a failure and that it’s your own fault. Allow me to reassure you: you’re not a failure and it isn’t your fault.

Why you need your own space

Every man, woman and child deserves a space of their own in order to thrive. Having a space of your own allows you to  focus, dream, concentrate, plan, create, follow through, follow-up, store, remember, reclaim. This space can allow you to feel nourished, inspired, supported, energized, and calmed. It helps you to set down deep roots and cultivate the courage you need to bring your creative work, whatever that is, to the world, to the people and places and creatures that need it most.

There are some people in the world, even in our own communities, who don’t even have a place to sleep at night. Making a case for a space of your own might sound selfish, superficial or materialistic. But think about it. If you had a space of your own, what could you accomplish? How else can we assist those people who suffer from having no place to rest if we, who can afford such a luxury, refuse to create an environment that allows us to help them? Or encourage those who do?

Setting up a space for you is your gift to others

If you’ve been accustomed to fitting into some dark corner and making do, think about how much of a contribution you could offer if you felt supported by your environment. Think about how competent and resourceful you’d feel. It may be jarring to some of your established relationships when you decide claim a space for yourself. You might also be pleasantly surprised at how little resistance you receive.

A space of your own has some basic criteria:

• A place to store resources and information: Anything that is you-specific — books, records, research, goals, etc.
• A place where you can concentrate: Freedom from distractions, interruptions, or anything upsetting
  
• A place where you are physically comfortable: This includes your chair and desk height, the temperature and amount of light.
  

An ideal space has the following additional qualities:

• A desk that’s wide enough that you can spread out and still have clear space left over
• A chair that’s comfortable to sit in for 6-8 hours
• Adequate, non-glare lighting
• A door that closes
• An environment that contributes to your well-being and nourishment

You have a choice

While you’ve been making do, you’ve sent a message to your spirit that you don’t deserve better, that it’s okay for you to come last, that your work isn’t important enough. You can certainly choose to continue making do for the foreseeable future.

You can also choose to begin the slow evolution of becoming someone who sees herself as an equal to others – enough to claim a chunk of turf. It’s not just an office. Creating that space can be a catalyst for stepping into your life’s calling and being of service to fellow travelers of planet earth. Where there’s space to plan, there’s an opportunity to achieve your dreams.

Thoughts? Me-toos? Feel free to chime in below!

If you love looking at inspiring images and hearing words that soothe the spirit, take a break from your work and allow this short video to fill up your heart.

With love,
Jennifer

If you want a workspace that inspires you, though, beauty is of tremendous creative and energetic value.

Invisible — sort of.

No offense intended to my landlord, but the wallpaper in my home office is horrid. The pattern of blue-and-white roses stagger up the wall in diagonal lines. The paper was hung so the rose bunch patterns don’t line up at the edges. When we first looked at the house I said, “That’s got to go.”

Chances are good that you have something like this in your home office. Maybe it’s a bad view, dark paneling, odd colors, or funky layout. We all have improvement projects that don’t get done – me included. Whatever it is, after a while it becomes invisible. Sort of. It still affects you subtly.

Bringing in beauty too

Here’s the secret that helps me tolerate that crazy rose wallpaper: I have a lot of beauty around me.

Outside my window is a garden view. On the walls I’ve displayed inspirational collages that evoke good feelings when I look at them. There’s lots of natural light. There’s my God List. One day, I’m even going to buy one of these originals to add more serenity and calm in my office.

The beauty I’ve created in my space balances out the wallpaper. That’s the secret.

The other secret

Clutter and disorganization are not always the Problem.

I’ve done many 1-on-1 sessions with people who want to deal with clutter “once and for all” in their session. Instead, they end up excited to create beauty and inspiration around them. They find that even if clutter remains, the space they work in becomes more pleasant and enjoyable to work in.

Beauty might sound superficial. I used to think so myself. But when there’s beauty in your space, it balances out chaos and clutter. Beauty feeds the spirit and creates a container that nourishes your heart.

Overcoming your resistance

We assume that beauty must look like a designer did it and is ready for the cover of House Beautiful. Many people resist creating beauty in their space because they assume it’s expensive. If you believe this, think again.

You are your own authority regarding what is beautiful to you. Not Better Homes and Gardens. Not your mother-in-law. Not Pottery Barn. Beauty is defined by what you love.

Love flowers? Cut some from the yard. Love pink? Buy a gallon of paint for $18. Want inspiration? Post images you love on your walls or collect magazines to make inspiring collages. Many of the artists I feature offer prints of their work, making their beauty affordably accessible to many.

Beauty doesn’t need to be complicated or expensive – it’s there to nourish you and make you feel supported and loved.

And aren’t you worth it?

You matter. Your work matters. When you create a space that nourishes you, your creativity and productivity flow. You have more fun. You like going into your space to work.

If you’re still not convinced that beauty matters, remember that there are people in the world who are waiting for you to show up. People who need your special gift and the way that you share it.

Having a space that nourishes you (with its beauty and inspiration), gives you the energetic resources you need to reach the people (and organizations, animals, and planet) that need you.

Beauty is fuel.

Taking the next step

If time were no object, think for a moment about one thing you would do to bring beauty into your space. It could be as simple as adding a cool, shimmering glass of water or as complex as ripping down all the wallpaper and repainting.

Just reflect for a moment about one thing that would nourish you.

Commit to taking one step toward creating it. When you do, let me know. I’d love to know what happens.

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At Breitenbush Hot Springs a few weeks ago, I pulled the Release card from a decorated basket. When I looked more closely at the image, it was a snake shedding its skin — a message to discard material possessions in service to spiritual awakening. It hit home.

Material goods being a stumbling block to deeper spirituality is an old and universal theme. From the Buddhist tradition: “Attachment is the source of all misery.” From the Bible, “…it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Suffice it to say, the physical trappings of earth have been a spiritual distraction to people for a long time.

Inspired to simplify

Recently, I read a biography of Mother Theresa and was inspired by her extreme simplicity. Along with her sisters, she owned only one thing in the world: her dress. She completely trusted that if she needed something, it would come along.

Now that I’ve gotten the hang of decluttering, I dream of stripping away my comforts down to only the bare essentials. Like the snake shedding unwanted skin, I dream of ditching everything to travel to the sacred places of the world to deeply immerse myself there.

At odds with mainstream culture

It’s hard to admit to this longing of mine, since our culture is so preoccupied with having. Our Western identity is so tied with the power and prestige of certain possessions, it’s hard to imagine living any other way.

However, I’ve grown increasingly interested in this simpler path due to the dissatisfaction I feel with stuff. All the yearning and excitement I feel gazing over the ads in Sunday’s paper evaporates once the purchase is made. I feel empty and unfulfilled. Having the thing leaves me feeling let down.

In reality, I think many people place unrealistic expectations on the physical object. “If I buy this,” I think, “it will make me feel good about myself. I’ll be able to show it off and people will praise me for having it. Then I’ll feel better about myself.” It isn’t that easy.

The inner vacuum

When it comes down to it, we’re all aware that having stuff doesn’t fill the hole that craves love. We’re seeking something deeper. Ambrose, a wise saint from the 4th century, calls it a “God-shaped vacuum” that only the Divine can fill. And nothing but that will sate our spirits. Not a Mercedes. Not a dozen chocolate eclairs. Not even the newest, thinnest, fastest handheld device in the world will get me closer to the Divine. In fact, these things only make us feel more separate, further away from the Love we crave.

Sometimes I see this separateness in the lives of my clients. The very objects around them are suffocating and very physically preventing them from having the life they want. Sometimes there’s just no room to move – physically or emotionally or spiritually. When you start making powerful choices about what to keep and what to release – it can be a life-changing event to finally feel free and full of possibility.

Less stuff = more life

The less we have, the simpler life is — simply because everything we keep requires maintenance. More books means more dusting. More clothing equals more laundry. More paper requires more filing and organizing. Honestly, most people just don’t have that much time! And when we do have free time, the last thing we want to spend it on is repetitive tedium.

If you’re looking for less in your life, here are 2 strategies that will help you begin.

Strategy 1: Focus on removal

Poking around online recently, I stumbled upon a guy after my own heart (an editorial on Zen Habits) who decided to whittle down his possessions to precisely 100. With simplicity on my mind, I sat down and wrote a list of my own 100 most important belongings. It was a powerful exercise that made me realize just how far I would have to go — and also how attached I am to the things I own.

Fortunately, like the snake shedding its skin, simplifying is a process. It’s something you come back to again an again, with new insight, clarity and intention. Now that we’re entering the fall season (in the Northern hemisphere, anyway), it’s a good time to reflect of what you’re carrying with you and what you’re ready to release.

Strategy 2: Focus on additions

If the idea of owning only 100 things to too extreme for you, try this: make a list of all the things you’d do with your free time (if you didn’t have so much busy-work piling up). Come up with a list of 25 things that help fill that God-shaped vacuum in you.

When you’re clear on what you do want out of life, removing the unwanted becomes much easier.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on simplifying, attachment to stuff, and the need for deeper connection with the Divine. Care to comment?