There was really no precipice. All of a sudden, the contents of our house just went from being desirable to being an absolute nuisance. Up until a couple of years ago, our familial mentality was basically, “Yes, we’ll take these bizilbigs, blumtoopas, and wums. We might need them someday.” We stored these random objects in an assortment of boxes, which until very recently were filled to capacity. It may have been the arrival of our second child a year and a half ago that spawned this need to purge our possessions. Adding one little person to our living space may have been the breaking point in not being able to functionally fit in our space.

I liken humans to an organic substance that grows to fit into absolutely any volume. No matter what size your space is, you will grow into it. If you take a family of four living comfortably in a 1,000 sq. foot house and transplant the same people into a 2,500 sq. foot house, there is little doubt that those same four people will magically inhabit the entirety of the larger house to the same capacity as they had their smaller dwelling. We do have friends and family that are able to maintain an amazing amount of order in their homes regardless of square footage. Their beautiful living rooms are always immaculate and airy. I have an aunt whose house has not changed in literally decades. Every tea cup can be found in the exact spot in which it was housed circa 1976. Bless your pristine organization techniques and being able to maintain such structure. We, on the other hand, are the people that return from vacation and walk around a still-packed suitcase for a month before realizing that we’re missing a shoe. Even if we are getting a bit better about this, maintaining our 1,000 sq. feet of living space is really the maximum of our capabilities.

Our family consists of four humans plus one large dog. By world standards, 1,000 sq. feet is a generous amount of space for a single family home. My husband and I (and our dog) have lived here for about 8 years. It was plenty of space for us before our daughter was born six years ago. When she joined the family, people started asking when we would be moving, because surely this wasn’t enough space for a growing family. We thought it was plenty – until we saw the array of things that babies apparently “need,” that gave us slight pause. Four years later, we were expecting our son, and once again, our wonderfully concerned family and friends asked when they should bring their trucks and dollies to help remedy this tiny dwelling situation. We again thought it was enough space, by this point, thankfully we knew what it was that babies actually needed, which is not much in the way of material objects (thankfully, gargantuan baby contraptions were not part of the recipe for our second baby). The issue was not with the amount of space.

If it’s plenty of space, why the need to minimize? With every addition to our family, our living space decreased due to the amount of stuff that each person required, even if this was only diapers for our littlest one. Just the physical presence of an extra body in the house made everything feel a bit tighter. We realized, that the solution was not to move into a larger space. That would only increase our hoarding means – just imagine how many unpacked suitcases we could fit into 2,000 sq. feet. We began to understand that our accumulation of stuff seriously exceeded our need for it and our patience of its upkeep.

Imagine that you’re in a corridor in front of two identically laid-out rooms. You walk into the room to your left and it is a disaster. Things are scattered aimlessly all over the floor. Every cavernous area is crammed with some kind of toy. Boxes of mail are thrown around like confetti. The shoes may as well be dangling from the ceiling fan. Inside, kids are screaming. It’s difficult for them to focus on their very simple needs when they are utterly overwhelmed by their surroundings. Does this seem inviting? Is this a place you would like to frequent? Personally, I would just quietly make my way back into the hallway. No one would even notice me opening the door amongst the chaos. You walk back into the hallway and thank your lucky stars that you survived unscathed. You cautiously open the door to your right and notice considerably less stuff inside. Things are not thrown around haphazardly because there is a place for everything due to the void of excess. The toys that are out are consolidated into one small box. Though the kids are running around and screaming like banshees, somehow it’s not as shattering. This is how we, as a family, felt – we went from the left room to the right room. Do I really need to propose the question of which space is more desirable?

What began as a simple need to unclutter turned into living proof that we are happier with less for several reasons. We are less stressed with less clutter. Who likes the cleanup at the end of the day with an excessive amount of stuff strewn about all over the house? You just can’t outrun that when children are part of the equation unless you minimize. We have much more time to spend together instead of concerning ourselves with who is going to sort each box of toys at the end of the day (even if the children are helping). Less stuff has equated to more imagination for our little ones. All of a sudden, wooden bowls become rocks in a river of lava and wooden shoes rather than just kitchen playthings. The elimination of unnecessary excess has also made it much easier to find things when we need them. The clutter didn’t just pertain to material substances; we began to notice how overstimulated and cluttered our minds were when we had to wade through so many things on a daily basis. An unintended effect of our physical minimization was the uncluttering of our selves. We began to focus more on what is really important because we no longer need to divide our time as much between our emotional needs and our physical excess. More than anything else, the decision to live with less has simply made us happier.

Are we all just sitting around singing Kumbaya all day long? Of course not. The children are still running amuck. I am still constantly saying things like “Don’t pick up your brother upside down! Why are you standing on the table?! Stop pulling his tail!” But the mood has been altered. The children’s yelling is in a happier tone. The parents’ yelling is much, much less frequent (as much as we would like it to be nonexistent). Minimization has certainly been a step in a positive direction for us. This is, of course, an ongoing process. The moment you relax and let things accumulate needlessly once again, everything cascades back into excess. We are definitely not at our destination of living with just essentials, but we are trying and making significant strides. To us, that’s the important part.

As we continue on this quest to minimize, I plan to chronicle our minimization. Perhaps, if you’re on the same path to minimize, the minimization phases linked below will help you just as they helped us.

Phase I: How does that pirate shirt make you feel?
Phase II: The toy-free family room
Phase III: 1999 Boxes – Forage Your Storage