I have never felt like more of a minimalist than I do today.
We just returned from a visit with my family and my dear mother is most definitely not a minimalist. She would more aptly be described as a decorating packrat, and everywhere you look her stuff is on display. I grew up in a home like this and for much of my early adult years tried to recreate this type of look in my own home. Not anymore.
The first morning we were there, I made toast, but I was greatly discouraged to make this my daily breakfast because of the 7 bags of coffee I had to move to get to the toaster. It was even more difficult to put the toaster away and re-balance the coffee on top.
When we first walked back into our own home last night, the barrenness of it was like a slap in the face. Very quickly, however, I realized how calming and soothing it was to be surrounded by empty spaces.
I'm glad to be home.