To release and hold
What we can learn from living more with less
In November 2018, I decided to leave my Bryce Street home of 38 years in northeast Portland, Oregon, and move to a retirement center across town.
The next six months brought changes and challenges, and some remarkable times of giving and receiving, of holding and releasing.
Releasing the accumulations in cupboards, closets, the attic and garage was gratifying.
Friends and family helped in many ways. As I gratefully received their kindness, I could then give them items matching their interests. This enhanced my pleasure in giving.
Probably best of all was giving my nieces some dishes and kitchen gadgets that had been in my mother's kitchen as long as I can remember. All of this brought me pleasure, a feeling of satisfaction in sharing life's good things, of generational connectedness.
The dresser I am using in my bedroom was made by my grandfather at the time of my parents' marriage. This will be inherited by a great-nephew, adding to our living in our family history.
Living more with less
Often the word “downsizing” describes a time of transition, of clearing out stuff, restructuring and reorganizing our household environment. My transition has been a time to continue hearing the call to live more with less.
In our society where advertisers can often convince us that we need more than we really need, we can be influenced to buy, to add more. And getting more can rob us of the pure joy of enjoying what we have, its comfort, its beauty, its blessings.
Rachel Naomi Remen tells this story: Long ago the little son of friends and I became good friends. A lot of the time we played with his two tiny cars, running them from window sill to window sill, parking them and racing them. At that time, these little Hot Wheels were avidly collected by most 6-year-old boys and Kenny dreamed of them and I yearned for him to have more. When one of the major gas companies began a Hot Wheels giveaway with every fill-up I was delighted. Quickly I persuaded the entire clinic staff to buy this brand of gas for a month, and organized all 20 of us with checklists so that we would not get two fire engines or Porches or Volkswagens.
In a month, we accumulated all the Hot Wheels then made and I gave them to Kenny in a big box. They filled every window sill in the living room, and then he stopped playing with them. Puzzled, I asked why he did not like his cars anymore. He looked away and in a quivery voice he said, “I don't know how to love that many cars, Rachel.” I was stunned. Ever since then I have been careful to be sure not to have more Hot Wheels than I can love.1
What we’ve had is still ours
The house on Bryce Street is a charming English-style bungalow with an open fireplace, an arched doorway entrance and inside arches for both living and dining room. I have moved away, but the comfort, warmth and sheltering that house gave me are still mine.
For truly, as Amy Carmichael wrote, “All that was ever ours is ours forever.“ Major changes do not deprive us of former goodness. We can hold it deep in our psyche, our inner soul where it lives and nourishes us.
I also hold in my heart the goodness of finding friends in each of the countries where I have lived, friends who welcomed me, helped me taste the unique flavor of their food, home and culture; played Dutch Blitz with me, listened to my Mozart tapes, helped me indulge my passion for bird-watching in their countries. What richness.
So indeed, all that was ever mine is still mine.
Life events “bring things to an end and give us new beginnings. Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End.
“And Christ invites us to bring to Christ all endings and beginnings, with all of the hope and sadness they cause us. And we find Christ all along the way and at every stopping place.”2
1 Rachel Naomi Remen, M.D., My Grandfather’s Wisdom
2 Elisabeth Elliot, Twelve Baskets of Crumbs
Ruth Nisly was born in Kansas, attended Eastern Mennonite College and lives in Portland, Oregon, where she’s a member of Portland Mennonite Church. She has lived in five countries and traveled in 35.