As much as we change, I like to think that we wore all born with a disposition, I just happened to be born a neurotic.
I’m sure there are a million stories that I could tell about young neurotic Morgan, but the one that stands out in my mind was when I was 10. 2000 was a pretty big year for me. I upgraded to less-ugly glasses. I had a hopeless crush on a boy that was shorter than me. I also found out that we were moving. I guess I should’ve been crushed, but I don’t remember being mad. I just remember the boxes.
My parents had been gentle about the news, and gave us plenty of warning. Brenna and I even helped pick out our new house. We knew it was coming. When the official move date was set, I asked my mom for boxes and started packing. Thing was, it was a month away. I packed up EVERYTHING and neatly labeled each box “Nancy Drew books” “socks” “horses” “More Nancy Drew books”. I stacked them as tall as I could and then spent the rest of the month without any of my things. I remember laying in bed every night that month, under just a sheet (I packed the blankets) and looking up at what (in my eyes) was the tallest mountain of moving boxes ever.
By the way, I’ve asked my parents about this memory, thinking I might’ve made it up. Or at least exaggerated. But no. I was just that batty. The funniest part is that they didn’t even think it was that weird, as far as my typical behavior went.
So needless to say, I’ve always been a little funny about moving. And by now, I’m really good at it. I think it’s a good mix of these neurosis, plus having moved 12 times in the last 10 years, that has made me become quite the minimalist. I don’t have much because I don’t like having much. And what I have, I love. I’ve dragged an old pay phone around with me for 6 years now, just because I love having it so much.
I think it’s also my neurosis and innate minimalism that make me love anything Kinfolk so much. Every magazine feels like the start of a new season for me. Reading the pages is a mediation, it centers me.
Their newest book The Kinfolk Home: Interiors for Slow Living really blew me away. The magazines focus on homes, but never to this extent. And while I didn’t receive any decorating advice, the book is more about how to make your home functional, special and yes, minimal.
Many of the parts that stood out to me weren’t the pictures of pretty homes, in fact some of the homes downright aggravated me, but the writing between the photos of homes was really breathtaking.
…A reminder to readers to sit and enjoy sunrises and sunsets, because they are a natural biological clue to the brain to wake up, or slow down.
…A gentle suggestion to sit and do nothing but gaze out the window sometimes, just to clear our minds.
…A celebration of casual, last minute, imperfect dinner parties, because we don’t live in a time of ice sculptures and butlers and that take out Thai and some messy countertops are ok to share with others.
…An appeal to black thumbs to keep plants that need bright light in south-facing rooms if you live in the northern hemisphere and to not overwater.
…A proposition that saving the environment doesn’t have to be difficult, it can mean something as small as taking shorter showers, only washing full loads, setting thermostats to lower temperatures and plantings trees and gardens if there’s room for them.
…An invitation to fully enjoy smaller living spaces by using rooms for multiple functions, cutting back on things like extra bathrooms, and larger closets. People who live in cities allows for shorter commutes, cuts back on the use of natural resources and allows people to interact outside of the home more frequently.
…A motion to savor dinners alone, when you dine with you. Delight in the taste, eat things others won’t touch, set a fancy table. You should be the best company that you keep.
I hope your home feels like home to you.