Nearly three decades in, and I’m still not sure who I want to be when I grow up. Having a third of my life crisis seems apropos in the same year that I gave birth to my second daughter. Fretting about poor past decisions and worrying about the future could indeed clutter up the few months I have remaining until I turn 30. I could create a bucket list to complete these last 180 odd days. But I won’t.
Not because I’m lazy or unmotivated (although it certainly is an excuse with a 3 month old and a 3 year old,) but because I crave simplicity and unabashed acceptance. Accepting who I am, where I am, and why I have done what I have done is a difficult task indeed. It requires a careful inventory of my dreams, my failures, and my hopes. But once I’ve gathered this imaginary list, it is time to let it go.
One of the tools of the minimalist movement that I hold dear is the idea that a simple life removes both physical and emotional baggage. I cannot embrace the future me if my mental suitcases are full.
And so like the tiny dandelion wisps my daughter blows into the wind, I let go. Let go of wanting different, wanting more, wanting less, just constant wanting. Instead, I’ll focus on creating a more intentional and hopeful world with my family as I enter this next phase of my life.
This is my journey, will you join me?