I am a soul who wants more.
More hole-in-the-wall restaurants, more dessert, more one-of-a-kind gems to decorate our cottage with.
More life. More faces. More light illuminating the path’s next step.
More experiences, more smells, more unique flavors, more music, more laughter, more learning. More depth.
But I’m also a minimizer. A less is more soul. Around this time of year, when the tree gets undressed and taken outside, and our nativity scene goes back in its box and settles in a plastic bin for a year, I get antsy. Maybe we should take everything out to the curb. Sell it ALL, my mind whirls. Let’s start over. Clean slate for a new year. Yes, I can be passionately impulsive.
Over brunch at Julienne’s, I shared about this idea to sell every piece of furniture and start fresh. Maybe it’s the need to flea-market or decorate or mix new colors and patterns and textures to create a vibrant fresh interior. Maybe it’s the mere size of our tiny cottage and frustration at having to clear space only to make room for more stuff that warms me to the minimalist approach. To enjoy a few items well.
And then a friend spoke with sincerity. I’m a maximizer. She went on to share about a day she was particularly down and needed beauty, life breathed into her soul, and found herself wandering into Anthropologie. Do you ever go in there for the simple treat of being inspired? That’s self care, right there. She found an interior design book, flipped through the whimsy pages and a particular page invited her to pause. A stunning roomscape served as the backdrop to a designers words describing how, in a world of clean lines and stark rooms, of minimization and neutral colors, she wants more.
Doesn’t the thought make you smile?
I read that page, my friend animatedly waved her hands, smiling a beacon of assuredness, a million stories sparkling behind her sea eyes as she spoke, and I saw the same in myself. I want more. I want more good food. More wine. More conversation. More Jesus. More glitter and sparkle and beauty. More love. I’m a maximizer and I want more.
I wonder if our society takes on the minimalist approach, the less is more, streamlined perspective because it’s safer. It’s safer to work with less, and granted we may live thankful, but I wonder if there’s something deeper. Perhaps if we desire more, comes the harsh underbelly of disappointment when more isn’t met.
Isn’t it safer to work with two colors than splash a dozen colors together and risk a messy combination?
Isn’t it safer to connect with one person than vulnerably put yourself out there with five?
Isn’t it safer to offer the bare minimum rather than love extravagantly, giving more of your heart into a passion or purpose or child or job?
I don’t want safe.
More meet less.
I want more beauty.
More listening, More faith. More Jesus-clinging.
More triple cream Brie, more creme brule, more dance parties. more kindness in the mundane. More real life conversations.
Less meet more.
I want less clutter.
Less negative self talk.
Less shame. Less fear. Less trying to plan life on our own strength.
Less raising our voices. Less defending. Less judgement. Less beating ourselves up for something else we could’ve done.
Less comparing. Less controlling. Less rushing.
My prayer for this year is that we will embrace more meet less in the sense of taking new ground and risking. Risking and bravely wanting more and being okay with wanting more, even if more means we’ll be disappointed when less meets us.
After all, risking outweighs the fear of more meets less in the first place.