Working with What You've Got, Space, Home Peace and Why Downsizing Isn't for Everyone

“Bless a thing and it will bless you. Curse it and it will curse you… If you bless a situation, it has no power to hurt you, and even if it is troublesome for a time, it will gradually fade out, if you sincerely bless it.” 
—Emmet Fox (1886-1951) Early twentieth-century New Thought spiritual leader 
 
Downsizing isn’t for everyone. Minimalism, or living moderately minimal, like I’m currently living, isn’t an expectation everyone should aspire to. Some people live in larger spaces, with extra closets and rooms: they have a garage, or a basement, or an attic. Space to hold the things they are currently using and want to save. 
 
I have limited closet and cupboard space in my home. Our living space is small. But we do have plenty of space to hold a moderate amount of clothes, and other things we need, and a small amount of space to store a few special items and keepsakes. This is the main reason I’m living moderately minimal. I don’t enjoy closets that are too full, making it difficult for me to find what I’m looking for. I also don’t enjoy living in a cramped environment, and I find it hard to relax in a crowded room. Although I’ve never tried, my guess is that I would also find it hard to relax in a room that was too sparse. I want comfort and to be surrounded with things that bring me joy, along with plenty of air space, room to breathe and to move about without bumping into anything. Perhaps if someday, I find myself living in a larger home, I might want to own more. What I know for sure is that at this moment in time, in this season, less feels like plenty. 
 
I’ve named 2024 My No Buy Year. 

When I want to buy something, I ask myself WHERE WILL I KEEP IT? WHEN WILL I USE IT? These simple questions are guiding me well. 
 
Yet, I also believe that if a person lives in a smaller space and they want to own a lot of stuff, and if they are comfortable with a bit of crowding, and if their home feels the way they want it to feel, then there is no reason to downsize. There is no reason why they should ever feel like they “should” downsize. Because downsizing isn’t for everyone. It is not necessary. It’s a current condition some people are seeking. Yet there is not any sensible reason to downsize if you do not desire it. 
 
But if you do want to downsize, it’s important to understand why you have the desire and to create reasonable steps to get there. And if somewhere along the way you change your mind, it’s okay to change your plans. 
 
In the beginning the reason I began downsizing is so that we could make a good life for ourselves and fit what we need to thrive in a small living space based between the ocean and redwoods. We currently do not have the money to live in a larger space in this beautiful place we have chosen to make our home. 
 
Three years after doing the hard work of letting go of excess stuff, when I finally began to feel like our small home no longer felt cramped, like a pair of shoes that I’d outgrown, that’s when my heart began to sing. This is when I began to understand that we are constantly in flux, and there isn’t a constant self. At least not for me. Each version of myself tends to amass a collection of clothing and material goods related to the work, hobbies, or interests I’ve had at various stages in my life. 
 
I also began to understand that when I hang on to some of the physical items that belonged to one of my “past selves” sometimes I find it difficult to let myself grow beyond, to evolve in a natural flow, and sometimes I feel bad about not using something I wanted, spent a lot of money on, or wanted to save just in case. In case later on I might change my mind and want to go back. As if maybe, I should stay in place, instead of allowing my feelings to carry me forward. 
 
Yet when I let go of some of those items from past versions of my life, I begin feeling there is space and energy to invite in the person I am in this moment. Recently I let go of a number of books I bought many years ago because I thought smart Terra ought to read them. But I never did read those books, and life is short. I have plenty of other books on my night stand that I’m reading my way though, and plenty more I’m looking forward to reading. When I gave the books, I thought I should read to the used bookstore, a peaceful feeling as wide as the sky took hold of me. Guilt lifted and now I have more space on my bookshelf for the books calling me now. Dear readers please know that before we moved to this beautiful small space near the sea, I had two large bookshelves filled from floor to ceiling. Change has come to me because it was asking to be let in and I have opened the door. 

Yet for some of my close friends saving things, surrounding themselves with many keepsakes or other items from past versions of themselves, feels comforting. This is okay. If it feels good and if the feeling surrounding the items brings peace, then in my mind there isn’t any reason to feel bad or guilty about keeping them. Home peace is all about feeling peaceful at home. It's our own personal way of living and being, and it’s nobody’s business but our own.

Happier with Less Follow along with me.
When you write, you lay out a line of words. The line of words is a miner’s pick, a wood-carver’s gouge, a surgeon’s probe. You wield it, and it digs a path you follow. Soon you find yourself deep in new territory. Is it a dead end, or have you located the real subject? You will know tomorrow, or this time next year. —Annie Dillard


We Who Walk the Seven Ways is Terra Trevor’s memoir about seeking healing and finding belonging. After she endured a difficult loss, a circle of Native women elders embraced and guided Trevor (mixed-blood Cherokee, Lenape, Seneca, and German) through the seven cycles of life in Indigenous ways. Over three decades, these women lifted her from grief, instructed her in living, and showed her how to age from youth into beauty. 

With tender honesty, Trevor explores how every ending is always a beginning. Her reflections on the deep power of women’s friendship, losing a child, reconciling complicated roots, and finding richness in every stage of life show that being an American Indian with a complex lineage is not about being part something, but about being part of something. 

University of Nebraska Press | Barns & Noble| Bookshop & IndieBound Amazon

“Terra Trevor’s memoir is a gentle invitation to journey with her across decades, an invitation to notice with her as she seeks healing and finds belonging. There were phrases and sentences I underlined, places where I wept, passages that will remain with me as they drew me to insights I’d previously struggled to name. I closed the final pages and knew that in reading this book, I had been the recipient of a generous and much-needed gift. While I can certainly finish a book in a day, I chose to move slowly through this one, letting each idea, each paragraph, each reflection gently spill over me, allowing the pages to alter me in some way.” —Patrice Gopo, author of Autumn Song: Essays on Absence

 "Terra Trevor’s Pushing up the Sky is a revelation of the struggles and triumphs packed into the hyphens between Korean and Native American and American. From her, we learn that adoption can best be mutual, that the adoptive parent needs acculturation in the child’s ways. With unflinching honesty and unfailing love, Trevor details the risks and heartaches of taking in, the bittersweetness of letting go, and the everlasting bonds that grow between them all. With ‘Pushing up the Sky’, the ‘literature of adoption’ comes of age as literature, worthy of an honored place in the human story." —Robert Bensen, editor of Children of the Dragonfly: Native American Voices on Child Custody and Education