Minimalism – Sabbatical Space

Traveler’s Sight

Posted on March 26, 2019March 22, 2019 by sabbaticalspace

This week as we have paused our travels to camp, I have done a lot of looking. I’ve looked for those pesky racoons that ransack campsites while we sleep. (Tim is a seasoned camper, so he makes sure we have everything put away, but others near us haven’t tucked food away to their messy frustration the next morning.) I’ve looked for the live armadillos that Tim and the kids spotted walking back from the river. I’ve looked for the spotted deer brought here as exotic animals from India, the golden cheeked warbler, and the seven sisters constellation. My near-sighted eyes haven’t yet seen these things that are all around me.

Ants hauling leaves to their nest.
Squirrels

I’ve also spent a lot of time looking at my laptop, typing words into a manuscript and editing it into the format that my publisher requires. Between thoughts, I glance out the window of our motorhome as the giggling kids run or scooter past with their new friends. Here, staring at the computer screen, I see what isn’t fully developed yet. I see possibilities. This is my strength because it doesn’t rely on weak eyesight. Maybe I developed this skill as my young child eyes squinted in vain to see what the eagle eyes in our family saw easily. I developed vision to compensate for sight.

We have been traveling for eight weeks now, and it strikes me that we see differently depending on our speed of travel. Sometimes, we rush from one thing to the next as if we have a list of things, and we want to check the box as viewed. Tourists. Or, we only see the destination on the map, and we miss the blur of things passing our vehicle windows.

Other times, we slow down and notice the edges of flower petals, the white bluebonnets, the horseshoe tracks on the trail, or the bald cypress roots tangled near the water. In those moments, we breathe deeper, sigh with contentment and savor moments of holding hands.

ZA: Mom, I want to hold your hand.

Me: Oh, that makes my whole day!

ZA: I knew you were going to say that.

Me: I hope so. I want you to always have the memory that I like being near you.

ZA: That’s getting old.

Me: That will never get old, even when you do.

ZA: (smiles) Well… I love you, Mom.

It seems that when we look at things up close, we can’t help but dream of possibilities. The little things make life bigger.

I’ve spent the last decade rushing around to check boxes. I love goals, so I love checking boxes. Finish another degree. Check. Have babies. Check. Find a great job. Check. Get a book contract. Check. Wear myself out rushing to get it all done. Check.

The last eight weeks, I have had a chance to slow down, squeeze our family and pets into a small space, and really see our big backyard. I think that the best life isn’t either-or, it’s both-and. It’s not about giving up my lists to live simply, it’s about simply listing what matters. It’s not about moving at a snail’s pace and only scrutinizing what is right in front of me, it’s about slowing down for a season so I can enjoy the speed again. Is there much more glorious than a horse racing across a field for the joy of racing, beauty in motion?

It’s both sight and vision.

It’s that balance that I have been seeking, and I’m finding it. Productivity and rest… and family fun. This is my sabbatical space.

“Speed can be fun, productive and powerful, and we would be poorer without it. What the world needs, and what the slow movement offers, is a middle path, a recipe for marrying la dolce vita with the dynamism of the information age. The secret is balance: instead of doing everything faster, do everything at the right speed. Sometimes fast. Sometimes slow. Sometimes in between.”
Carl Honoré, In Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed

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Adjusting to Nature’s Rhythms

Posted on February 26, 2019February 22, 2019 by sabbaticalspace

It is ten minutes to seven as I write this. The sun has set, and it’s dark. We just ate an amazing Mexican dinner at La Fiesta in Waco, Texas. And I’m in bed.

I’ve noticed an interesting trend that started when we began this journey. We are adjusting to nature’s rhythms. When it’s dark, we’re ready for bed, but we’re also getting up around sunrise (which is thankfully not until around 6:30). Today it rained, and I caught myself listening to the melody rise to a crescendo on the roof of the RV. The last couple of days have been cold, so we added layers of clothing, snuggled under blankets and sleeping bags, and sipped hot beverages. I noticed the weather more.

Back home, I work in a basement that is stuffy hot in the winter as the heat overpowers the space. In the summer, I shiver. At home, I’m almost always indoors where the temperature doesn’t fluctuate more than a few degrees. (We don’t have thermostat wars in this phase of life.) I stay up too late under artificial lights tapping around on devices with too much blue light and groggily try to come to life when the alarm rings. It’s all terribly out of tune with nature.

As we sync with nature, I feel more rested and peaceful… most moments. It’s a comfortable pace of life, despite getting a lot done on the things that are really important to me. This probably has something to do with being outside more… feeling the wind on my face, smelling the cinnamon near Magnolia bakery, and seeing the plants stretching towards spring.

It seems like I am uprighting when I didn’t even realize how upside down I was.

Reduce the complexity of life by eliminating
the needless wants of life,
and the labors of life reduce themselves.
Edwin Way Teale

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Challenges, pt. 2

Posted on January 13, 2019January 12, 2019 by sabbaticalspace

The second hurdle to leaving is clearing our personal possessions out of the house, fixing and replacing things we have put off, and making it nice for guests.

Sigh.

We’ve all experienced the pain of moving and the disbelief at how much stuff we really have. I think is going to be a theme for us in the next few months as we learn to live with less and lighter things. As I look around at the piles of our treasured possessions, it’s starting to just look like stuff. I’m questioning a lot.

“Why did I keep that?”

“Why do I have so many of these?”

“What is this?”

Then there are the bins and boxes needed to pack. We are packing our stuff to leave it in the basement for seven months, but the boxes aren’t going to rattle around in a moving truck. They don’t need to be padded and protected, but they do need to be stacked.

Professional organizers say that once you clear one space, you notice other spaces more and those start to cause discomfort. Yep. The more I do, the more I see that needs to be done. I think this could go on forever, but I’m so antsy to get going on our trip.

My strategy has been to start with the inner spaces. I started with closets and drawers. That just created a bigger mess that I could see, but I knew that what I could see is what we had left. Have I mentioned that we have too much stuff? That’s so apparent when you can see it all.

I’ve also been working on my own inner spaces, those parts of me that want a spare for the spare, just in case. I’ve been slowly realizing that more isn’t better, and it might be a lot worse. According to statista.com, there are 5,358 Walmart stores in the United States. I think we have access to what we will truly need on this trip, even if one of those essential widgets breaks.

So maybe we can get by just fine without a spare. (Except a spare tire. I’m not willing to go that far.)

I don’t know exactly what it is going to be like living in an RV for months on end. I hope that we get used to the ease of less. I hope that I find that I have more time, because the stuff is not demanding as much of it. I got excited in our house kitchen this evening as I was rearranging the things that my husband put away in unusual places. With only one drawer in the RV, he’ll only have one option… and that means I will be able find it.

You know, as we are clearing it out and minimizing, it already feels more restful, and that’s one of the goals of this sabbatical.

Minimal Stuff, Maximum Adventure

Posted on January 4, 2019January 4, 2019 by sabbaticalspace

I am intrigued by the idea of minimalism, but since having kids, we’re more of maximists. If one is good, then four are better. The toys breed in dark closets while we aren’t looking and spontaneously reproduce. As we stumble around in a sleep deficit, having more of each thing means we might be able to find one of the things we are looking for. Yet, this sabbatical adventure means some serious downsizing.

It’s like moving, but we’re also limiting the quantity and weight of what we move. I’m a pretty serious packer, a skill I learned in college moving with a Volkswagon, but in an RV, every pound reduces the gas mileage and therefore costs money. We’re going from a 2,600 square feet house to less than 300 square feet for five people.

I have a confession.

This is one of the most appealing parts of this trip for me. I want our family to unplug from our fast-paced, stuff-packed life for long enough to really experience more simple living. I’ve caught myself asking, “What is the very least we need?” It isn’t 800 pens, 8 bottles of lotion, and more stuffed animals than I can count. I have a hunch it is much less than I think, but I don’t yet know where that line is. I hope we figure it out before leaving, but even if we don’t we can shed stuff on the way.

There’s a range of opinions in the minimalist movement ranging from counting and limiting every item down to paperclips to a more relaxed approach that emphasizes keeping things that are in line with your core values and eliminating the rest. This is probably where I fall. I’m not interested in limiting stuff just to limit. I am interested in less stuff and more of what really matters.

But I am only one of five people impacted by this sabbatical space. My 8-year-old, who I’ll identify as Z, was pretty upset that he couldn’t bring everything he wanted. I had been trying to warn the kids that they could only bring a limited amount of toys, and maybe I was a little too adamant, ahem. But, after we talked about what really mattered to him and pulling out his bin to pack, he realized he could fit it all. In other words, he learned to identify which toys he really valued and that he plenty of room for what was most important.

If only every teachable moment went this well.

I doubt we’ll ever fully be minimalists, but this is a great opportunity to experience what it is like to minimize our stuff. Maybe it’s a chance for me to learn to identify what I really value and see that I have plenty of room for what is most important, too. I have enough time, enough ideas, and enough energy. Well, that last one is yet to be determined. Stick around to see how that works out.

When you stop trying to grasp, own, and control the world around you, you give it the freedom to fulfill you without the power to destroy you. That’s why letting go is so important: letting go is letting happiness in.
Leo Babauta