And just like that, it is done. He’s out in the garage searching for the contractor sized garbage bags. We’ve opened a flood gate, and it’s broken free from its hinges and rushing downstream never to be seen from again.

We’re downsizing. In a big way.

Maybe it is this quote that I saw the other day that inspired me.

“I’m 82 and live on and with the barest of necessities, for the less I have, the better I feel. I regularly go through my small house wondering what else I can get rid of. Minimalism is soothing, aesthetically appealing. I sometimes fantasize about living in a cell like a monk – a cot, a table, and a window.

Knowing what I know now, if I had my life to live over, at the age of 18, instead of sitting around devising plans for a cluttered life, I would put a knapsack on my back and with my dog I would leave the house and just start walking.”

Or maybe it was this article that I read about living in a tiny space and making room for bigger and better moments in your life.

Or maybe, just maybe, it is time. Maybe I’ve just outgrown my things as I no longer want to be “kept” by them. Take my beloved books for example, years of collecting titles to fill some fantasy library, moving them from place to place… now just reminders of words I haven’t read, time that I just don’t have.

And for the books that I’ve read, that I love, that I’ll go back to again… how fair is it for me to keep them waiting on the “someday” where I might read or need them again? Or would they best be served on someone else’s nightstand, inspiring, encouraging, educating?

The other day, my 9 year old declared that she wants a bigger house, one with rooms upon rooms that we can fill with many things, and some that we can just keep empty. “As big as a hotel,” she declared, “so there is space for everything I want.”

I am horrified. Time for a change.