As we move through this grand adventure called Life, we change. We have a period of development in childhood. A moment where we think we know all that we need to know in adulthood, then eventually reach the point where we realize that we know absolutely nothing in this grand scheme of things.
Transitions are typically marked by events. Moving away from our family, going to school (or not), working, starting families, retirement—all of these are simply seasons in the life we lead.
I wrote about this a long time ago. I discussed the belief that Minimalism can help ease the transitions we make in our lives by encouraging us to leave the person we were behind as we embrace the person we are becoming.
I embraced Minimalism with open arms when I first moved into this tiny home because of that belief. To ease the transition and reduce my moving expense, I eliminated everything I could. I ended up hauling the few items I chose to keep (mostly my daughter’s possessions) in a single vanload as I settled down to embrace her remaining childhood.
I find myself pondering that as I begin my second semester of college. Life was incredibly simple in those days. I slept on a futon on the floor. I used a coffee table from my childhood as my desk. Instead of spending my days cleaning, I spent my time living.
In hindsight, it was one of the happiest, most productive times in my life.
My Seasons marched onward. My daughter grew up. I embraced things again. Now I’ve embarked upon achieving a dream I’ve had since childhood. Yet instead of devoting every ounce of myself towards my goals, I find myself looking around this place and asking myself if the distraction of stuff is worth it.
I sit down to study only to look around and see things I need to do. The shelves need dusting. The cabinets need organizing. The floor needs sweeping. Each day I complete a list of tasks around this place before I begin, yet in the end there is always something more that needs done.
Is it worth it?
I am beginning to wonder about that.