The Joy of Less Read online

  Changing your life one story at a time®

  www.chickensoup.com

  Contents

  Introduction, Brooke Burke-Charvet

  ~The Freedom of Less~

  1. Unit 91, Phyllis McKinley

  2. The Pick-Me-Up that Doesn’t Work, Katie Bangert

  3. Going Places with Less, Susan Leitzsch

  4. The Liberation of Liquidation, John P. Buentello

  5. You Must Be Mistaken, Veronica Bowman

  6. Farewell to My Diaries, Louisa Rogers

  7. In Love with My Life, Jill Burns

  8. The Dream Home, Suzannah Kiper

  9. The Decades Long Dream, Julia M. Toto

  10. Going Naked, Sally Friedman

  ~The Joy of No~

  11. Eating Lentils, Katie Drew

  12. Mommy, Your Head Is Wrong! Diane Stark

  13. From Super to Serene, D.S.A

  14. Silencing the “Should” Monster, Sydney Logan

  15. The Challenge, Denise Barnes

  16. Practice Makes Perfect, Mary C. M. Phillips

  17. Too Much of a Good Thing, Liz Rolland

  18. There’s a Limit, Monica A. Andermann

  19. An Idyll of Idleness, Sally Friedman

  20. Saying No with Passion, Jill Haymaker

  ~All You Need Is Less~

  21. Living the Dream, Marybeth Mitcham

  22. The Undecided Pile, Sheila Sowder

  23. Good Riddance, T. Jensen Lacey

  24. Giving New the Boot, Robyn Gerland

  25. Increasing My Income by Getting Rid of My Junk, Dee Dee McNeil

  26. Hung Up, Ruth Lehrer

  27. Coffee Corner, Jennie Ivey

  28. One Bag Rule, Kelti Goudie

  29. The Small Simplicity Challenge that Changed My Life, Dallas Woodburn

  30. Christmas Without Electricity, Christopher E. Cantrell

  ~Joyfully Unplugged~

  31. Friends Less, Melissa Wootan

  32. Goodbye TV, Cindy O’Leary

  33. The Freedom of Shabbat, Bracha Goetz

  34. Why I Gave My Smartphone a Lobotomy, Nicole L.V. Mullis

  35. Trading Bandwidth for Bonding, Mary Anglin-Coulter

  36. Keeping the Lens Cap On, Selena Singh

  37. Itching for a Change, Priscilla Dann-Courtney

  38. Why I (Mostly) Quit Facebook, Kate Lemery

  39. Cutting the Cord, Danica Favorite

  40. The Power of Play, Barbara LoMonaco

  ~The Joy of Sharing~

  41. Pass on the Party, Miriam Van Scott

  42. Birth of the Rototiller Club, Mary Grant Dempsey

  43. The Rain Jacket, Leah Shearer Noonan

  44. The Joy of Freecycling, W. Bradford Swift

  45. Nun the Worse for Wear, Nancy Emmick Panko

  46. Getting It Gone, Geri Moran

  47. Little Free Libraries, Tanya Janke

  48. Real-Time Inheritance, Miriam Hill

  49. The Ugly Socks, Natalie June Reilly

  50. An Empty Garage, Mary Grant Dempsey

  ~Less Is So Much More~

  51. The Summer of Their Discontent, Debby Johnson

  52. Priorities, April Serock

  53. The Joy of Simpler Gift-Giving, Maril Crabtree

  54. Downsizing to Our “Yacht” Gene R. Smillie

  55. When Less Truly Is More, K.D. King

  56. Warming Up to Less, Bruce Black

  57. The Family Farm, Maggie Hofstaedter

  58. A Second Chance at Love, Gwen Daye

  59. Helping More Animals by Having Less, Susan Kimmel Wright

  60. De-cluttering a Brain, Julie Sanderson

  ~Joy on the Road~

  61. Life in a Rolling Cardboard Box, Jema Anderson

  62. Mental Selfie, Shehfina Mamdani

  63. Finding Mount Fuji, Stacy Thibodeaux

  64. Trading Houses, Marjorie Woodall

  65. Trusting Serendipity, Terri Kafyeke

  66. Birthday Blast, David Hull

  67. Letting Go and Moving On, Kimberly Ross

  68. Fire Drills, Connie K. Pombo

  69. A Heart Full of Memories, Kaitlin Murray

  70. Release the Stuff, Unleash the Magic, Aimee DuFresne

  ~Count Your Blessings~

  71. Someone Else’s Blessing, Jeanie Jacobson

  72. The Best Choice, Brianna Bell

  73. River Flows in You, Vidya

  74. The Last Meal of the Month, Jill Burns

  75. Slightly Bent Flugelhorn, Best Offer, Mark Rickerby

  76. Happiness Is Raising a Roof, Heidi McLaughlin

  77. It’s Still Too Much, Kris Reece

  78. The Most Valuable Lessons, Celia Jarvis

  79. Setting the Place, Barbara Davey

  80. This Little Piggy Came Home, Carol Emmons Hartsoe

  ~The Joy of Starting Over~

  81. From Tragedy to Triumph, Kamia Taylor

  82. Small Blessings, Elizabeth A. Atwater

  83. Half Is More, Brenda Cathcart-Kloke

  84. The Real Treasures, Patricia Lorenz

  85. I Have Enough, Ava Pennington

  86. Recharged Without the Cards, Marsha Porter

  87. Finding My Sparkle, Susan Yanguas

  88. What a Young Life Can Teach You, Heather Gillis

  89. My Kitchen in a Trunk, Joan Wasson

  90. Embracing Black, Jennie Ivey

  91. My Father’s Watch, Paula Sherwin

  ~Lessons in Less~

  92. The One Thing We Didn’t Have to Unpack, Amelia Hollingsworth

  93. The Rule of Twenty, Pat Wahler

  94. The Yard Sale Party, Joan Wasson

  95. Clearing Out the Clutter, Cynthia McGonagle McGarity

  96. How a Clean Closet Changed My Life, Joy Choquette

  97. The Lesson of the Mandala, Monica A. Andermann

  98. Waste Not, Want Not, Marya Morin

  99. What a Birthday Should Look Like, Rebecca Smith Masterson

  100. Fifty-Two Weeks, Amy Newmark

  101. Controlled Chaos, Brooke Burke-Charvet

  Meet Our Contributors

  Meet Amy Newmark

  Meet Brooke Burke-Charvet

  Thank You

  About Chicken Soup for the Soul

  Share with Us

  Introduction

  We live in a society where most people are looking for the BBD (the Bigger, Better Deal) and not making an effort to nurture and enjoy what they already have. Making a commitment to prioritize what’s most meaningful in one’s life is imperative for living a life of fulfillment.

  I’m surrounded by a world of privilege, excess, and fantasy. While I run a business and raise my four children, I also work in television and I come across many unsatisfied people who tend to miss the message of “The Joy of Less.” That’s why I was so excited to be a part of this inspirational collection of Chicken Soup for the Soul stories that help us focus on what really matters in our lives.

  I believe in the power of saying “no” — “no” to too many material possessions, and “no” to schedules so crowded with “obligations” that we crowd out time we should spend with our families and our friends. We need to use the power of “no” so that we can say “yes” to the things that matter to us.

  As a young woman, I shared my life with many people aiming to please others at the expense of being true to themselves and their own needs. I’ll never forget the first time my boyfriend blew off a social dinner because we were jetlagged and simply too tired to pull it off. I was so relieved that we could skip what was potentially a four-hour dinner, but I was also mortified by his insensitivity to our hosts. I remember thinking how free he must feel to not be psychologically obligated to show up for someone else’s event.

  Rather than canceling, I
have learned to say “no” up front. Now let me tell you, Hollywood is notorious for being flaky. I cannot stand people who say “yes” and then don’t follow through. Being unreliable is unacceptable. There is an etiquette to saying no, which can be misinterpreted as being rude, but I believe in a good, honest “no.”

  I write my own story. I am responsible for the commitment to raise a connected family without guilt, and I alone control my journey. I often make compromises for my husband and family, but outside of that I do not do what does not serve me.

  As a multitasking businesswoman and mother of four, I have chosen to conquer my work/life balancing act by saying “no” as often as I need to. Which means I don’t have much of a social life! But my family life is so rewarding, and valuable, that I choose to put it first and let all other wish lists take a back seat.

  I used to get anxious when looking at my calendar, calculating every full day and the endless events that filled it. I would furiously flip pages looking for an empty date that meant I would have some time to breathe. I placed my personal time last on the priority list. Then I turned forty and I grew up!

  Saying “no” to many social events and other demands on my time, even optional ones that are for work, allows me to carve out my invaluable “me time.” I need that for my sanity, and in order to do a good job doing what matters to me. I am often asked how I balance motherhood and my hectic life. I don’t know if any woman honestly thinks she has achieved that perfect balance, but I am okay taking my life day by day and doing the best I can… and that means focusing on quality time. For example, I don’t feel any guilt about passing on most invitations on school nights. On busy work days, I try my best to be home at night for my family. That means missing those fun “ladies’ nights” with the other moms, and it means passing on nights out, even with friends I adore. They have to take second place to my family… and my own wellbeing.

  The speed at which we move is so fast that we too often forget to hit the pause button. I spent much of my younger years going to places I had little interest in, socializing with people I didn’t enjoy, and wasting time for other people’s benefit. All of that compromised my personal gratification.

  You’ll read dozens of stories in this Chicken Soup for the Soul collection that will empower you to say “no” yourself. You’ll see how other men and women did it, and you’ll read about the consequences — which were always great! Most of our writers were pleasantly surprised by how well their “no’s” were received, and by how well their lives went once they learned how to de-clutter their calendars.

  You’ll also learn about another kind of de-cluttering in these stories, and that is the how and why of reducing all the “stuff” that you have. It’s a rare person who doesn’t feel that he or she has too many material possessions, and we present you with dozens of stories that provide you with easy-to-implement tips for how to do it.

  My own rule, the result of necessity, is “dig it or ditch it.” If you aren’t using it, if you haven’t worn it in a year, get it out of your life. Give it to a friend, donate it to your church or a thrift shop that supports a good cause. Someone else will value the item that no longer fits in your life.

  Keeping the clutter means someone else doesn’t get the blessing of your unwanted item, and it also means you can’t clearly see those items of value that really should remain part of your life. I love having a little space between hangers and being able to organize fashion choices. Having too much just isn’t healthy. It’s overwhelming, it hangs over us, and it slows us down.

  So that’s it. The Joy of Less. Less stuff and fewer commitments on our calendars. The joy of less isn’t really about having less, it’s about clearing the way to have more of what you love. It isn’t about doing less, it’s about doing more of what inspires you. It’s about making room for meaningful things in your life and letting go of what does not serve you. By saying no you free up time and space for what serves you best.

  Enjoy this collection. Be inspired. I know you’ll come away filled with ideas and enthusiasm for the new life you’ll carve out as you reduce the clutter in your life, literally and figuratively, and experience The Joy of Less!

  ~Brooke Burke-Charvet

  The Freedom of Less

  Unit 91

  If you want to make an easy job seem mighty hard, just keep putting off doing it.

  ~Olin Miller

  Day after day, I drove to the Public Storage warehouses in Jacksonville, Florida in the oppressive heat and humidity. I punched a code in the keypad, drove in quickly when the steel gate opened and checked my rearview mirror to watch it lock behind me. I was alone in an unsavory part of town. I wound my way through the maze of narrow corridors between rows of numbered orange doors until I found Units 91 and 92. I slid the heavy doors up on their rollers and fought the feeling of panic. I was totally overwhelmed by the task at hand.

  To even get into either unit I had to move articles nearest the front out to the parking lot. I started with a few smaller items: an electric heater, a vacuum cleaner, and some small end tables. To move larger pieces like bureaus or desks I slid cardboard under them to help slide them across the concrete floor, a few inches at a time, so I could shimmy by and size up the rear of the units.

  I started with the stacks and stacks of packed cartons. Ideally the movers would have packed the tall bulky pieces at the back of the units and stashed the boxes close to the front. This had not happened. Their mission was to get it off the truck and into the storage units as quickly as possible. So now I looked at two 360-square-foot units packed floor to ceiling, with scarcely room for another bar of soap in either one.

  Boxes. Boxes. Boxes. After opening one or two it became apparent that they had been filled indiscriminately in the last hours before our deadline to be out of the house we left in Maine. Tucked in with mixing bowls, cheese graters and soup ladles were packages of cereal, rice, raisins, sugar and nuts. To leave these items in storage in Florida’s heat is to invite hordes of ants to an all-you-can-eat buffet. So my first item of business was to open every box that potentially had food items inside.

  Because we had to drive from Maine to Florida, I had packed a carefully chosen selection of snacks: rye crackers, cheese, almonds, grapes, cherries etc. When we were ready to leave, I noticed, despite repeated instructions to all four men packing the truck, my basket was missing. They were just tightening the strap on the back doors, so with a shrug, I let it go. I found my basket six weeks later in Unit 92. A lizard had beaten the ants to the picnic.

  I’ve given to friends and acquaintances just about anything they happened to admire when visiting our home.

  After unearthing the perishables, I went for the irreplaceable, the photos of my children, the originals of my poems, the essential papers indicating I had been born, married and having not yet died, paid my taxes every year. I culled the personal items from boxes stashed with everyday utilitarian items, toasters, towels and teakettles.

  “Reduce. Reduce. Reduce.” I repeated that like a mantra as I separated the contents into “discards,” “essentials to keep” and “not sure yet.” By the end of each day, hot, sweaty and exhausted, I would shove the items from the parking lot back inside the units until my next session. I would load my car with items I wanted or needed for our rented home and sigh over the still overwhelming loads in Units 91 and 92.

  The work I did each day was hot, heavy and lonely. One afternoon I noticed a three-quarter-ton truck pull up to a unit close to mine. An older couple got out and went to work immediately loading things into their truck. My first response was gratitude for their company, even though we had not even spoken. A while later, when they had finished loading their truck, the man approached and said hello. “You got lots of stuff,” he said. “Mind if I take a look?” He added, “In case you don’t pay your rent,” with a quick grin.

  “Do you buy stuff?” I asked.

  “We buy whole units. Cheap. When people don’t pay their rent and the storage com
pany gets rid of it all.”

  “I’ll pay the rent,” I said, “but I am looking to get rid of some of this.” So I let him look around a bit, took his name and phone number and gave him my contact information. His wife called to request an inventory list of the items I wanted to sell. I said I had more sorting to do but would comply when ready.

  Over the next few weeks I continued sorting, moving the items I would keep into one of the two units. I typed the inventory, affixing an estimated value to each item based on cost, replacement value and/or Internet research. I submitted the list. They gave me a price and we set a date and time to meet at the storage units. They brought two trucks and a couple of big guys to help.

  On a damp, misty morning I watched as belongings I’d had for years were loaded into a cavernous truck whose destination I did not know. The antique wardrobe with the beveled glass mirror, the pine secretary unit that used to hold my favorite books, the lingerie chests, bureaus, beds, a favorite corner china cabinet and on and on. Sofas, chairs, safes, lawn ornaments and assorted knick-knacks. The truck filled. Unit 91 emptied. I swept it out and went to the office to settle the paperwork. A few months later, movers would haul the contents of Unit 92 to the home we purchased in another city in Florida. The house would be more than filled.

  In the three years since parting with all that stuff I have continued to make donations to Goodwill, I have dropped bags and bags of items at church thrift centers, and I’ve given to friends and acquaintances just about anything they happened to admire when visiting our home. I’ve tried to adhere to the policy of “one in, one out” when it comes to acquiring new items. We’ve downsized our home by several hundred square feet.

  At the moment, there is nothing I need, and nothing lacking from my life. I no longer even think about all the items I got rid of nor do I miss any of them. I have no regrets, except that we moved all that stuff from Maine to Florida in the first place!

  ~Phyllis McKinley

  The Pick-Me-Up that Doesn’t Work

  We tend to forget that happiness doesn’t come as a result of getting something we don’t have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have.