I’ve got it.
It’s a sickness and no amount of quest for less has been helpful in solving this issue.
They are sitting on the pew by the front door…taking over the couch in the Elvis room (don’t ask), thrown on the patio furniture…piled on my bed…multiplied on the girls’ beds…on every piece of furniture in sight without fail. Felt, silk, linen, with buttons/without buttons, cotton, chevron, striped, ikrat, fluffy, polka dotted, tweed…..
Is it possible for a lover of design and nest-fluffing to have success with a pare down/simplify plan? Can throw pillows and an ironstone pitcher collection dwell in the same house that is being turned upside down in a massive yearning for Joshua Becker’s world of rational minimalism? (‘Love that term…it’s so non-militant)
I’m reminded of a funny scene from Along Came Polly when Jennifer Aniston is liberating Ben Stiller’s character from the prison of his bed throw pillows:
Okay, so the kitchen knife yielding flakey girlfriend is frightening, but I get the point…and yet…I am a moth to the flame at Home Goods when I attempt to tiptoe past the pillow aisle.
What is it?
Lest I dive into sessions with a psychoanalyst to uncover my secret desire to accessorize all of my furniture, I am attempting to let it be what it is and turn my attention to other areas of de-cluttering the abode. Translation: completely ignore the dichotomy here and go on my merry pare down/power up way.
Frankly, I’m not ready to de-pillow my pretty bed.
And who says my journey to a de-cluttered home must be void of throw pillows? Who exactly is writing the rules of my skewed sense of minimalism here, anyway? I’m needing to step away from the massive voyeurism of simplifying blogs that has become my life…
…resist the desire
in my family room
…Understand what this journey means for me…little down pillow and ironstone pitcher loving me. Steps are being taken and as long as I’m filled with joy while cleaning out a bathroom cabinet, the order of this process will unfold as the momentum picks up. I’m choosing to trust in my desire to do this and know that it will come in full swing when I’m ready.
We all have our own story when coming to terms with the excess of our generation.
I’m zeroing in on the take away part so that I can narrow my focus on what I know matters most. It really comes down to relationships, work that I love and experiences (wanderlust is wedged in this category too). I guess on the outside looking in, the pare down is more apparent with my choices about commitments and the “shoulds”. I’m not really buying into the need tos/should haves/musts anymore. That’s one of the beautiful things about writing your own story…you get to decide. As long as everyone standing in my kitchen is feeling like this train is going where they want to go, I am resting in the fact that the stars are aligned in a much less complicated constellation than in the past. Deciding to go back to teaching was a huge step in this direction for me. For the first time in a long while, I’m feeling there is a family-fitting schedule I can predict and meaningful work being done every day. Somehow along the way I missed the importance of these two things in my general day to day existence.
Living on our own in the sticks, away from potential neighborhood drama, was another conscious choice for us. I am so grateful that we committed to that. I suppose some would call it hiding out, but I believe our ability to step past the front gate is evidence that we are not striving for a hermit-I-don’t-like-people-NIMBY existence. Inviting people into the little haven that is our Magic Forest world is one of my favorite things—and I love that (again) we get to decide who that will be.
I feel a huge change brewing as we teeter on the edge of the teen years here in MPG Land.
I’m keenly aware that in a short time PH and I will be staring at each other across the table…and fortunately for me, I am very excited about the list of adventures we’re accruing, most of them in the form of pushpins on a map of the US. I do believe this second half will involve another purging of sorts…too much stuff can hinder the possibilities, and if there’s anything I get jazzed about, it’s possibilities.
That, and throw pillows…with fringe.
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What about you? Where do your throw pillows (metaphorical and non) fit into your life?