Fewer decisions, fuller joy {5 Favorite books for simple & intentional living}

So, as we're moving merrily along with our selections in flooring for the new house (we've successfully narrowed it down to a very manageable number of decisions, mostly minor, like which of the 50 shades of gray tan we'd like out of the brand of carpet we selected).

Sorry, Julia, that's about as much of that one as we could afford...

But, even with those (major) decisions under our belts, I've still found with a discernible undercurrent of feeling overwhelmed.  Overall, (thanks be to God) life is very good.  I really have no reason to complain but yet I have this nagging sense of stress.  As I sat and reflected last night, I came to realize that I just feel so cluttered - both homes, all of our possessions, and even mentally.  So many things to think, to do, to see, to deal with, to clean, to move, and to keep out of the baby's increasingly accurate roll & reach pattern.

Clutter.  Ultimately, so much stuff (physical and otherwise) is clamoring for our attention that we find ourselves spinning as the roads diverge in the yellow wood - but here, not two roads, but a seemingly infinite number of choices of what to do, where to put things, what to eat, what to wear, and what to read.  I'm using the royal "we" because I know I'm not the only one feeling lost in the sea of daily choices.

My situation is amplified right now because of the renovations and the juggling of the two houses, but I know even in "normal" times, modern life has an exceptional number of choices.  And so many choices - embodied by the 10 housekeeping chores (only one of which can be reasonably completed in a nap time), by the carpet strewn with toys (most of which you're not exactly sure where to keep), and the exploding Pinterest boards (many of which you'll never complete, even though you just keep pinning) - make the day seem almost claustrophobic.  And the necessity of too many decisions short-circuits our brain and we end up doing nothing.  We turn to the Internet as a distraction from the disorder, feeding our mental clutter and inhibiting our ability to control the physical mess that's encroaching from all sides.

I know I've been harping on this simplicity thing, but I'm becoming increasingly convinced that our culture is building a world that is quickly becoming suffocating, and if we don't stop the madness, well, no one will.  The craziness of the world is intruding in our homes, stealing peace and joy from the place that should be our family haven.

I think that if we can find a way to put some of ordinary life on autopilot, we can be fully present in the extraordinary.

The extraordinary here, of course, isn't a trip to Paris, but the belly laugh from the toddler and the chunky rolls on the baby's leg and the fuzzy caterpillar crawling across the porch while you sit and read for a quiet minute.

Fewer decisions about when and how to do things, where to store things, and less to think about in general: less physical clutter, less schedule clutter, less mental clutter means that our days can be more intentional, more productive, and more joyful.  A simpler lifestyle means that we have room to breathe - room to enjoy the extraordinary, even the beauty of the mundane.

If you, like me, want to make a change and need some wisdom on where to start, I highly recommend the following books:

(1) Simplicity Parenting: Using the Extraordinary Power of Less to Raise Calmer, Happier, and More Secure Kids  (Kim John Payne & Lisa M. Ross)

I am only one chapter in to this book, but am so incredibly impressed by the observations and suggestions (just in the introduction!) that I am confident that I should recommend it for all parents.  I list it first because I think it's the most important reminder - this simple living thing isn't just for pretty pictures of all-white kitchens.  It's the foundation for our children's understanding of the world, and if they grow up in cluttered chaos, that can't bode well for their emotional health as they grow.

(2) The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up  (Marie Kondo)

This Japanese cleaning consultant has some very poignant observations and an extremely useful process for purging - I had to wade through some ideology with which I didn't quite agree, but overall her ideas and tips are well worth the read.  (And you will be SHOCKED by how many items you find yourself dropping off at the Goodwill).

(3) A Mother's Rule of Life: How to Bring Order to Your Home and Peace to Your Soul (Holly Pierlot) 

This has more to do with the simplicity and intentionality of schedule and time, but I think that reducing that type of clutter is just as important as physical clutter.

(4) Organized Simplicity: The Clutter-Free Approach to Intentional Living (Tsh Oxenrider)

This is equal parts "why" and "how" in terms of intentional, simple living.  More in my post HERE.

(5) Anything written before (or written about times before) the Internet.

I think our modern age is such an anomaly in terms of information overload that it can be really inspiring and didactic to read something written about/during times that were - by default - less cluttered (at least in terms of mental clutter, and often in terms of physical clutter, as well).

As a bonus, I'll give a nod again to my friend Rachel's book Minimize the Mess: A Mother's Guide to Simplifying Your Home  and I'm linking up with her today for 5 Favorites!


What are your favorite resources for simplifying?  I'd love to hear what you think about these books...and others that you have to recommend!

Everything I've ever wanted

So, house status is solidly in the "it looks (much!) worse before it looks better" stage.  (Don't ever be fooled by the magic of the Internet that makes it seem like "before" goes to "after" in just one tidy snap of a finger.)

Much worse.  But since frequent postings of wallpaper peeling progress would be the Internet equivalent of watching paint dry, I'll switch gears to mom-blog and share some pictures of our lovely little afternoon picnic.  But not before I assure you that the fruit basket border is NOT staying; I just hadn't found the ladder yet at the point of this photo.

It was one of those days, weather wise, where everything seems absolutely perfect.  When I took this shot, I announced that it captured "everything I have ever wanted."  I think it felt all the more sweet because I have recently been doing a lot of thinking and reading about intentional living, and have been keeping a running list of the things that I want my life and our home to be like.  One of the recurring themes is simple joys, the carefree time spent together sharing the beautiful gifts we've been given.  

 I consider our lives at a bit of a crossroads, moving from a (haphazardly utilized and pretty overwhelming) temporary housing situation to our little dream house that very well may be the address where I receive mail from my grand kids.  The transition is a good chance for me to reflect on what I really want and make the space and our routines and decisions reflect that, but the exercise has been so fruitful that I recommend it to everyone, even if you're not in the midst of a huge change.

I kept a notepad on the kitchen counter for a few days with the header "I want our lives/home to be..." and jotted down random ideas as I thought of them.  I found Tsh Oxenrider's books to be inspiring and practical - check out Notes from a Blue Bike and Organized Simplicity.  The theme and content of the two is similar, but the former reads more like a memoir and the latter more like a manual.

Off the soapbox and on to more pictures:

Family photos are exponentially harder with the addition of each child.  These are my two favorites from the series.  Three out of four are smiling.  And the toddler is holding her nose.

Aaand, totally accidental, but perfect hand position from Anna.  

What is your perfect Saturday?  I hope you enjoyed some of it today :)

For the hard days...

I'm still chugging away here, trying to get things set-up, adjusting to Justin being gone for nearly 12 hours a day (plus working from home in the evenings).  I've had some other hard days, some other really good days, and I'm really looking forward to having my parents here to help us this weekend.

I wanted to share a few book quotes (part of my new "On My Bookshelf" tab).  I came to a certain point where I realized that I spend a lot of time reading books about management and sociology for my Bucknell degree, but no one was requiring me to read anything before embarking on this journey as a wife, mother, and homemaker.  I've since sought to read a lot on those subjects, wanting to absorb as much information as I can to help myself on the quest to be the best I can be.  I've come across a lot of great insights, and I want to share them and create a sort of catalog of resources in case anyone else is interested....(or just so I can remember the name of a book when I want to check it out again ;) )

If you're a frequent reader in the Catholic mom-blog sphere, you know that Jennifer and Hallie hosted the wildly successful Edel Gathering (conference for Catholic moms) last month.  I listened to the talks (available here) and read a lot of the recaps, which mentioned the idea of "building cathedrals" that was central to Jennifer's talk.  I was intrigued, and looked for the book that tells the story at our local library:

"The Invisible Woman: When Only God Sees"  by Nicole Johnson

This is a short, quick read, but it contains a lot of wisdom and great reminders.  It is told as a story of a mother who feels invisible and unappreciated by her family.  A friend gifts her with a book about the building of the great cathedrals of Europe, structures that spanned the lifespan of multiple workers who never saw their project to completion.  And so, by comparison, the job of a mother:

"It was almost as if I heard God say [...] 'No act of kindness, no peanut butter sandwich made, no shoe selection is too small for me to notice and smile over. I see your tears of disappointment when you feel overlooked or when things don't go the way you want them to.  But you are building a great cathedral and you cannot possibly see right now what it will ultimately become.  It will not be finished in your lifetime, and you will never be able to live there, but if you build it well, I will.'" (p 50)

I write a lot about the trappings of home - the physical environment that I hope to create, but ultimately all of this is because I'm trying to great something far greater for our family.  I want them, first and foremost, to know love.  To feel comfortable and secure despite this crazy world.  To experience peace, joy, and laughter.

In college, my favorite quote was: "The secret to success is being like a duck - calm and serene on top, but paddling furiously on top."  I suppose that applies a bit to life nowadays, too.  I want to create a home where the calm and serene are visible, and the necessary work that creates it falls behind the scenes.  I write a lot here about the paddling - intended as encouragement for myself and my mom friends - but ultimately it's not the higher purpose.

Johnson's book sums it up well: "Next Thanksgiving I don't want my son to tell his friends, 'My mom gets up at four in the morning and bakes pies and hand-bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.'  I don't want his attention to be called to the things that I do. [...]  I just want him to want to bring his friends home often, and maybe to say something like, 'You're gonna love it at my house.  It's a great place to be.'" (p 86).

If you're a mom out there (feeling appreciated or not), check out the book for a quick shot in the arm.  You know we all need it on those hard days.

And P.S., Mom, you got it.  All our friends know that your house is a great place to be.