I’m enamoured of tiny houses. My dream is that I will someday be able to fit my entire belongings into 1/s of a tiny house, w/ my beloved paring his down, as well. Every thing we own would be a well-loved piece, one with intrinsic value, and/or useful.

The house might just be 3 ‘rooms’ — a living/dining/cooking area; a sleeping area; a bathroom. That’s it. Three rooms, and only the best-loved accoutrements.

‘Declutter’ is the word on trend. But I tend to think of it as an ongoing process in my life: simplification. Trying to find good homes for the many possessions I still own that trail context & meaning behind them like kite tails. The two tea sets my grandmother painted by hand. My mother-in-law’s pressed glass plates & bowls. YARDS of linens, even after giving away tablecloths & napkins & runners & more.

I want space — as much space as time. And it takes one (time) to create the other. But space also feeds time: it’s a recursive process. The fewer material objects I have to care for, the more time I have to do what’s important (NOT clean & dust!).

There’s a book I read recently, on the ‘life-changing magic’ of simplifying your life. It’s not the first of its genre — not even the 1st I’ve read. But it came at a time when I was more than ready: a time when I felt (as I do periodically) overwhelmed w/ stuff. Too many things w/ meaning — what happens after a life full of generous friends & family. Too many teapots, too many quilts, too much silver… Just tooooo much.

So I’m ‘decluttering.’ Or simplifying. I want to have only things I adore in my house, on my desk. I don’t know what to do w/ the rest of it, but I’m pretty sure solutions (and I suspect there will be more than one!) will turn up. As I give away books and clothes I’ll never wear again, jewellery that doesn’t fit my lifestyle (and probably never did!), I’m feeling as if weight is dropping off me. Literally: a pound here, a kilo there. It’s exhilarating.

Tiny(er?) house, here I come. Now I just have to figure out how to convince my beloved… 😉