When I was pregnant with my first child, I had big ideas. I wanted to give my children the world. Like most new parents, I had the best of intentions.
Every generation wants to give their children more than they had themselves. My intention was no different—I wanted to give my children more. More love. More protection. More opportunities. More toys.
More, more, more.
This desire for 'more' was rooted in love.
After I had children and they began to grow, there was a shift. This desire for more became rooted in fear.
If I didn't play with them enough, would they be happy? If I didn't stand at least two foot from them at all times on the playground, would they fall? If I didn't land a spot in a top preschool, would their education be impacted?
In the words of Erin Loechner, “No one ever told me how much fear is hidden in love."
All this fear, camouflaged as love, quickly started to take a toll on me. Trying to be everything and do everything for my children left me depleted.
My desire to give my children more left me feeling less.
Less energy. Less joy. Less calm.
Then I found Minimalism.
Minimalism is more than just getting rid of all your stuff (although I am on that bandwagon too.) It's...