What Downsizing Is Really Like
Hello!
At the weekend G (my husband) and I finally moved our bed across from the ‘old’ house to our ‘new’ rented condo, so I suppose we’ve officially moved. I don't really understand the difference between a condo and an apartment - in the UK we'd just call it a flat, but apparently in America everything needs a more aspirational name. I’ve named our new abode, The Bluff, because that’s where it is. I’m practical like that. We have new noises to get used to and a stunning new view.
We need the beauty of the view because downsizing has been A JOURNEY. Let me tell you, those YouTube videos about living a minimalist life make it look easy but getting rid of two thirds of what we owned has been exhausting, both emotionally and physically.
As a paying subscriber - thank you very much! - I like to give you glimpses behind the scenes, and so here are some honest Wild Creative Noticings about the downsizing journey.
Downsizing Is Not Fun
Decluttering is fun to a point; there’s instant gratification in moving objects out of your home. Downsizing is a different game. It requires making tricky choices about how much to keep, how much to store, how to dispose of possessions - it’s a chore. Downsizing gets tedious very quickly. For the last month we’ve lived a boring groundhog day in which we get up, load the car, take stuff to the thrift store, load the car, take stuff to the condo, load the car, take stuff to a specialist recycling center, then drop on the sofa with a glass of wine and a pre-cooked grocery dinner because we’re too tired to chop veggies. ‘Normal' life has been put on hold. I haven't opened my sketchbook in a month. I have, however, become extremely well acquainted with the thrift store car park.
We Had More Stuff Than We Thought
This is our fifth move since we arrived in the States almost fifteen years ago. At every move we’ve decluttered but because we’ve moved into American-sized houses, our possessions have fitted in very well and we just haven’t noticed how many objects we’ve accumulated. We’re now back in something the size of the first home we ever bought, which was a small Victorian cottage, where there are no spare nooks to pop vintage chairs, no basement to hide my art collection, no under-eaves storage to shove the box that holds the kids’ school reports that for some reason I’ve lovingly kept.
And this is the part where we’ve realised how captured we were by the capitalist dream. Buy a bigger house and live your dream life! They said. But there is also a law of physics that says your possessions will expand to fit the space you have available. Got a two car garage? Great, now you need to buy a second car. Got a weird reception room you don't know what to do with? Pop a sofa in there! Keep buying until you've run out of space, sense, and the ability to find your own passport. No more. We're done with that.
