The upside of downsizing

Lao Tzu said, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." In our case, the journey of 500 miles began with one layoff. And this week, eight long months later, the journey is complete. The house is finally sold. Gone is the rambling home with its mountain view. Gone are the dreams of putting a gazebo here, a swimming pool there. Gone are the hopes of someday having our kids get married in our large yard. Goodbye, Colorado. Hello, Kansas.

Downsizing, while humbling, has proved the Proverbs true: "Better is a little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble with it." Trouble indeed. Big homes take big cleaning, and big yards take big weeding parties (thanks, Adam). All of which take a big bite out of fun, just ask my kids.

Add to that the lifestyle of the prosperous: ballet, choir, guitar lessons, piano lessons, basketball practice, and Girl Scouts. It's no wonder our bookshelves were filled with books like Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives; Stress Less; In Praise of Slowness; and The Exhaustion Cure. Locked into a corporate sales job and accompanying lifestyle, life was dizzying, but what does one do? Like my friend Lisa said, "It's like we're on this conveyer belt. We can't slow down and if we get off, it's really going to hurt."

It did at first. But when we told friends we were downsizing, people reacted with a surprising wistfulness. Could it be that unemployment is, on some level, something enviable? A chance to begin again, start a business, try a hand at something new, give an old dream new life?

For us it means less to clean, less to weed, less to fix, less to worry about, less rushing, less clutter, less junk, fewer financial decisions, fewer boggling choices, and absolutely no chance of fighting over where to vacation this summer.

It also means more eyeball time with the children, walks with the spouse, increased clarity, time to think, time to breathe, homemade pizza, deal-finding, coupon-cutting, game nights, listening to our forgotten CD collection, watching our favorite underdog movies (Cinderella Man, Fun with Dick and Jane, Jerry McGuire), getting organized, sleeping longer, increased empathy, and a whole new appreciation of Matthew 6.

All that said, no one wants to be poor forever. But, perhaps, with the right attitude, a season of poverty will do us some good. The boys are using last summer's mowing money to start a knife-making business, while our daughter is selling things on craigslist in order to buy summer clothes. Whether it's writing songs or making croissants from scratch or noodling around with novel ideas, each of us is trying to use this 'extended vacation' for good.

As for me, even though I no longer have a view of Long's Peak from my bedroom window, there is something to be said about a yard that can be mowed in 10 minutes and a kitchen that doesn't take me half the morning to clean. You're right, Dorothy, there is no place like home. Even if it is in Kansas.