I came across an article today, "The Value of Minimalism," that reminded me of the many benefits we've experienced by downsizing and simplifying our lives. We are fortunate to have had the choices to change our lifestyle in a way that many people do not.

In 2015, we sold our 2,500-square-foot house on almost four acres of land and our two cars and left our jobs to move into a 100-square-foot camper, storing what little was left in a 5 x 10 storage unit. After traveling across the country through the summer and fall, we returned to New England that winter and rented a furnished 600-square-foot cabin. When we bought another house the following spring, we went much smaller in size and acreage than our previous house – about 900 square feet and a 1/2 acre, half of which is wooded and undeveloped. We also bought one 18-year-old car that we now share. We have much, much less stuff than we did before and we don't miss the things that we gave away or sold. At this time in our lives, as empty-nesters seeking a work/life balance that's right for us, we have less stress and more free time. There's less to clean, less to mow, less to maintain, less to repair.

​Our biggest problem so far? When one glass breaks in a two-glass household (as happened this week), our glass inventory is suddenly cut in half! I guess it's time for a visit to the local thrift store to restock. But I'm still calling the glass half-full.

He walked around what my Tom calls the "experimental pile" of compost, where random plant compost accumulates when he wants to see what happens to it. 

Maybe we'll see a rafter (yes, that's the right word – I looked it up!) of turkeys next spring, if love blossoms over the winter.

#sustainablegreenlife #nature #wildlife

When nature comes to your window, it's hard not to take an interest. This mama spider settled in earlier this summer, so we've avoided washing this window. (Well, to be honest, we haven't washed any of the windows this summer, but we'll chalk it up to wildlife conservation efforts.)

​A​lthough garden abundance sometimes turns into the cold summer soup, gazpacho, Tom turned our garden gifts into a despacho tonight instead.

Tom could feel the life energy of the recently picked vegetables emanating strongly. How lucky we are to be able to grow some of our own food!

Sometimes I can become overwhelmed by how much help and healing is needed in the world today. The idea that we're like raindrops in a pond helps me keep being hopeful, moving forward. If we are raindrops, then as we land on the pond, we add our ripples, touching others and being touched in turn. And we also become part of the pond, joining with all the other raindrops.

Every action, big or small, that is done with an open, generous heart and an understanding of your connection to everything will bring the ripples you hope for. You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to do it all. Just try to be the best raindrop you can be. Our pond will be the better for it.

​I wrote this poem on my way to work a few years ago, when I was learning to notice and appreciate the parts of my life that I was grateful for. I would take the longer route, along a country road, to extend the trip just a few minutes more. I'd open the windows and the experience of smelling the fields, the flowers, and the farms would be heightened.

She kisses us with her breeze, shades our skin with her leaves. We quench our thirst from her flow, we feed and nourish from her as we grow. We breathe her breath, please hear her call. She gives us life, she gives us all.

​Speak, as if your words were for the first time spoken.
Listen, as if it were your first time hearing.
See, as if this were your first vision.
Smell, as if today were a fresh bouquet of flowers.
Smile, deeply, from the inside out, as if today were the best day for being.
Feel fully into each moment as it unfolds.