My closet shrank.
Moved to a bigger house, ended up with smaller closets. I could get some fancy clothes-containment system, spread out into my hub’s unused closet space, store under the bed. But, no. I’m editing.
The smaller my wardrobe gets, the more I like it.
It’s lean and lovely and somehow feels more abundant.
How does less feel like more? How does less feel more rich?
Less gets focused. Going small means I like every item in there. It means no duds. No ill-fitters. No waste. It means never a bad choice.
It also means practicing building the life I want. Gettin’ spiritual in my lil’ ole closet. I want simple. I want beautiful. I want what I need without a lot of excess to make the hinges hurt. And I can create that for myself with something as simple as shirts and shoes.
Finding metaphors in your microfibre? Air your laundry in the comments.
Gathering light,















