The Energy of Things

I've been thinking about stripping down to bare essentials recently, and what that means for me.

I've been noticing the energy of the things I surround myself with and the energy of my habits, and these don't always match up with how I want to feel. And I want to feel like a dandelion seed caught in a cool breeze.

I want to get more intimate with ease and simplicity. I want to learn to be ok with being less. Yeah, it's like that.

We are preparing to invest in redecorating parts of our home this winter and I want wall after wall painted delicate white. My husband finds this boring, but I think it's sexy. White rooms, layered with white and grey linens, organic cottons, with teases of color in unexpected places, like a piece of art or a bedside table.

I've even started to pin images to a new Pinterest board. 

Each room I spend time in, I pause and locate pieces to take to Goodwill. I want to remove anything that doesn't thrill me... yet I can't seem to part with the stacks of cut-up magazines and the litter of feathers that have started to gather on my tousled altar.

I want this home to tell our story, to reflect his southern roots and my Canadian heritage.

I've also been thinking about routines and habits and how I choose to spend time. Even this is calling for less distractions. I made a list (of course I did) of my ideal day, peeled back to nothing but essence...

:: time with loved ones
:: movement
:: good food
:: nature
:: time spent creating

This tiny list feels like fulfillment. Could it be enough?

I don't desire to be a minimalist but I'm turned on by the idea of "just enough". I imagine a world that would come into full view without the blur of too many colors and opinions. I imagine that my energy would be repleted, my psychic energy, and my intuition would be fed.

And so I wonder about the energy of things. The hand-built coffee table, made of old wood from a tobacco barn, feels like history and roots and routine. The the bowls and bowls of seashells feels like invitations and salty memories. The pj's that are pushed to the back of my drawer feel like unwanted remnants, wrinkled and stale.

And I notice the energy of social media, noisy and sometimes thrilling. And the energy of my drive to work, a 6am commute of meditation, contemplation, and moon chasing.

I'm starting here, feeling the energy, moving deeper into simplicity, into white space.