Downsizing for Clarity

So, I had an epiphany – and when I happen across an exercise so powerful as to evoke an epiphany, I just have to share!

The crazy thing is, the exercise described below wasn’t designed as – nor did I take it on as – a coaching (or reflection) tool.  I discovered it in the process of researching tactics and techniques for effective downsizing.  

Spending the first three decades of our lives together, my hubby and I are experts at acquiring and accumulating the stuff (boots & bags, bikes & boats, fins & gaiters . . .) to do the stuff  (hike, bike, kayak, snorkel, ski – you name it and we likely gave it a shot, which explains the razor scooters in our garage . . .).  And as we consider the years ahead, we find ourselves considering the business of downsizing with a seriousness that includes researching the advice and experience of previous and fellow travelers and how they have made the hard decisions of what to keep and what to let go.
    
One of the downsizing suggestions I read (the one that inspired this blog) suggested looking about one’s home and determining what, if all was lost (like in a fire or flood), one would choose to replace.  It’s a great drill – and I challenge you to give it a try (even if you have no plans to move soon or ever).  The process, for me, clarified what I need to live the life I desire -- and it was far less than I imagined.
  
My list ended up being both utilitarian and sentimental.  And without thinking about putting together a plan, I discovered I carefully had included the tools critical to the work I feel I have to do in my lifetime.  Because the important (to me) stuff was restricted to things I once had, there was no dramatic shift in my thinking.  Rather I experienced a lighting bolt of clarity that distilled from all the stuff that which I need to support my continuing journey.  For every colleague, friend and client who ever has struggled to answer my question, “What do you really, really want?”  This exercise may move you closer to your answer.  Envision and then list what stuff you’d replace in the aftermath of a catastrophic loss (when you and your family safely are away so only stuff is lost).

As my pragmatic husband groused, this really is not terribly beneficial for downsizing planning because at the end of the day, we’ll include comforts and accouterments I chose not to restore when starting from a figurative zero (because of course we’re not really starting from zero, are we?), but the thinking was powerful and fruitful in ways unexpected.

A great coach once told me if the universe keeps confronting you with a path or opportunity no matter your attempts to resist, maybe you should pay attention.  This exercise of restoring stuff not only honored my previous choices, it culminated in a post-apocalyptic universe screaming: “This is your path” in pitch and volume irresistible.

As with any idea, concept or reading I’ve ever offered as a coach: I’m passing the awareness canapés tray here with the reminder, “Take what you need/want, and leave the rest.”  But if you take, be ready to listen -- whether a whimper or a bang, I suspect you’ll hear something.