The simplification process has been more introspective then I imagined.  Downsizing our living quarters by 1,000 square feet, a decision was made that everything must have place or it could not be brought into our new home; therefore we donated, sold, or pitched half our possessions.

I had watched enough "Clean Sweep" and "Mission Organization" on HGTV to understand how one starts the process of downsizing and organizing.  What those shows did not prepare me for was the emotional upheaval the process would stir in my heart. 

In the course of getting rid of stuff, I learned it wasn't really about stuff at all. When the mission of simplifying was adhered to, the stuff was actually unimportant.  The reason I was attached to stuff was the revelation that unfolded before me.   

For instance, I had received a three-foot ornately, painted, wooden duck from an acquaintance that thought of me and purchased it on a trip to Malaysia.  My thoughts were when I received it, did I remind her of a duck or was my personality colorful?  Did she think because we lived on a lake, we had three-foot bright yellow, orange, green and blue ducks floating nearby?

Over the years, that duck has moved more than 1,000 times to be dusted, packed away, brought out again, then moved to a less conspicuous place; finally finding its resting place in the bottom of a large Rubbermaid tub on a shelf in the garage.  Each time I moved the duck, I felt a pang of guilt; Guilt for keeping it, for not appreciating it, and guilt for omitting to put it out when the giver stopped by.   

Initially, I began in the garage with all of the items that had found eternal rest in the Rubbermaid containers.  Piece by piece, I began going through each container, noticing the same guilt as I moved each item into the next container to be eventually stored in the garage of our new house.  In the midst of it all, I shouted out loud, "Renee', get a grip, these things are sucking your joy away!  You've got to get rid of it!" 

After my outburst, to no one in particular, I lugged each container out to the cement apron adjacent to the garage.  Without going through another box of these so called "treasures," I placed them in front of the large hand made sign labeled; SELL.

My pace picked up and my stride from the garage out to the cement became more deliberate. I kept repeating to myself; "No looking back, it's a new chapter; our goal is to simplify." 

Upon completion of moving all containers to their labeled spots on the driveway, I surveyed the organized mess and felt a surge of satisfaction. It was one of the most freeing experiences of my life, a feeling of finally letting go. 

Five months out and a home of less clutter and things, I realize that the process of letting go was necessary so that I could LET IT COME!  Once the stuff was gone that had such a hold on me, I was free to let the good things come into my life.  I selectively surrounded myself with simple items that made my heart sing.  Pictures of my family and friends took the places of knick knacks and ostentatious three-foot ducks.  Maps of places we had traveled replaced large wildlife prints.  Each item taking up precious wall space was part of the fabric our  lives.  I look around our new house and feel peaceful. 

Each day I am aware of the lifestyle I have chosen.  Simplifying is still an ongoing process. I am more attentive to what objects enter our home and can more quickly discern what needs to go to keep our mission of living a simpler life. 

Any guilt I may have held onto vanished the day of my big sale. The very first woman that walked in strutted right over to the three-foot bold-colored duck, wrapped her arms around it and quickly snatched it up like it was the prize of the sale.  She exclaimed, "I just love this beautiful duck! It reminds me of a recent trip I took to Malaysia.  I wanted to purchase one, but had no idea how I would get it home.  And, what a deal at $25.00! Over there they sold for well over $200."

I gulped, swallowed hard, smiled and was happy to send it on its way to a new home, where it would be proudly displayed with a story all its own.