Sometimes we get so caught up in trying to accomplish something big, we fail to recognize the little moments, that truly give life its magic.
Today, beloved friends moved out of our neighborhood. There is sadness in our home because of it.
We have lived in our little, suburban neighborhood northwest of Phoenix for the last four years. And our friends have been a part of it from the very beginning. In many ways, we have not known life in Arizona without them.
The similarities between our family and theirs are almost too many to count. They have two kids: a son and a daughter—just like us. Their son is the same age as ours and their daughter is only one year older than our daughter. The boys enjoyed sports and video games and riding their bikes to the neighborhood grocery store. The girls enjoyed arts and crafts, swimming, and hours of conversation.
We attended the same school, the same church, and the same community events. We enjoyed the same activities. We were together for birthday parties, trick-or-treating, Super Bowls, and fireworks on the 4th of July.
More than once, a knock on our door in the evening meant warm cookies from our friends just four houses away. They were generous and hospitable, thoughtful and loving.
We knew the move was coming for months and to be honest, I thought very little of it. I mean, people move, that’s just how it works these days.
But things changed yesterday evening. After saying one final good-bye to his best friend of four years, my 12-year old son’s eyes were tear-filled. And mine quickly became so as well.
Later into the night, I ran by their home like I had a hundred times before on my usual route. But this time, it was empty. And my mind began to reminisce about the time we first met.
It was actually quite unassuming. His 8-year old son was on the play set at a small, local park. My son ran over to play with his “friend from school.” And I sat down on a bench next to his father. We talked about sports, work, and moving into the neighborhood. And the rest, I suppose, is history.
I am thankful today, that in that moment, I chose to let David into my life. It was a small, simple occurrence to engage in a conversation with a stranger. But in the end, it had a profound impact on my life.
I wonder, if at its very heart, minimalism is about questioning what pieces we allow into our life. Our lives are finite and we are met with choices every day about what to allow in. And by definition, allowing in one piece necessitates missing another.
Minimalism seeks desperately to evaluate each and every piece. Does it bring joy, value, purpose, and fulfillment? Or does it distract us from it? The evaluation tends to extend much further than physical possessions.
When we invest all of our energy into pursuing financial gain, we miss opportunity for selfless love.
When we clutter our schedules with purely selfish pursuits, we end up neglecting the family that lives right next door.
When we spend a majority of our finances on material excess, we find little space for generosity.
And when we waste countless hours in the mindless consumption of television or smartphone apps, we may miss the new, life-giving relationship sitting on the bench across the park from us.
Our lives become the sum total of the pieces we allow in. May we be intentional and thoughtful about each. (tweet that)
And all the best to you David and Doreen and family in San Antonio.
BrownVagabonder says
The title of this post reminded me of the book about ‘Tidying up’ that is taking America by storm.
http://www.amazon.com/The-Life-Changing-Magic-Tidying-Decluttering/dp/1607747308
One of the main things I took away from the book is to only keep or let in pieces of clothing into your life (or anything else) that you absolutely love! I mean, each piece in your life, each item of clothing, or shoes, or furniture, or person, or activity, should make your heart sing with joy. It should make you so joyous to have that piece in your life, that you cry with it (a bit of an exaggeration). But, most of us spend our lives with hundreds of pieces that aren’t special to us in anyway. Most of the time, these pieces actually rob us of our joy – they make us feel fat, or ugly, or lazy, or whatever.
But we are too afraid to let them go as they remind us of ourselves when we were different or someone we think of as better.
Now, every time, I bring a new item into my lovely condo, I think to myself, will I adore this piece and use it to death? If yes, I am happy to let it add to the other lovely items in my life.
Judy says
Nice to see you back, Joshua. Missed ya! :) —Thank you for this post…it really hit home on so many levels. I’m sorry your friends moved away, but they can still be a big part of your lives if you make the effort to keep in touch. Life is rough sometimes…fragile and always changing. It’s so very important to truly love our family and friends. None of us are promised tomorrow…so why fill our lives up with junk and greed. When I’m gone, I’d hope people would remember me as someone who was loving and generous. Have a great weekend Joshua. God bless :)
Elaine Farrah says
I to
Elaine Farrah says
I too hope to be remembered as loving and generous , and I choose my actions to reflect these values … Great post …
Naomi Alexander says
Our neighbours (a couple, no kids, like us) have also just moved house and although they only lived near us for a few years it was lovely to have friends just around the corner.
When they were having building work done on their house they were able to pop in and use our loo… and more than once house-keys were dropped through each other’s letterboxes when someone had lost or forgotten their key.
It’s so sad when friends move away, but fortunately they are only a short train ride and we don’t live too far from the rail station so I’m trying to view it as an opportunity to visit a neighbouring town that I otherwise wouldn’t have any reason to go to. Still get a bit sad when I walk past their old house though :o(
Melissa Camara Wilkins says
This is such a beautiful reminder of why minimalism matters. Our choices have long-lasting effects on our families and our communities. We’re making space for what we want to see grow.
Best wishes to your friends, and to your family as you adjust to your new normal.
Danie Botha says
Having a meaningful and impactful friendship is precious, especially as one family with another family.
We emigrated sixteen years ago from Africa with two young daughters and a 20-foot container with our furniture – said goodbye to family and old and dear friends. New friendships were woven here in Canada.
The kids grew up, started their own families – recently moved out. It’s a similar feeling of loss one experiences.
The crucial issue remains – we so easily get caught up in the accruing of things, that we neglect the people nearest and dearest to us.
Danie Botha
Alyssa says
Thanks for the great reminder! Beautifully said.
http://www.sweetlytattered.com
Kariane says
Good friends are truly one of the things that make life beautiful. I’ve also mourned the changes that come when a dear friend moves away. I always come back to feeling thankful for the time that we spent together. I also find myself glad that I have space in my life and in the life of my family, to pursue such wonderful friendships.
Wally says
Good article. I believe that when friends move way you will certainly miss them but then you have the opportunity to make new friends and experience life in a new way.
Jo-Anne says
“Our lives become the sum total of the pieces we allow in”. A beautiful and thought-provoking post. Thank you.
Brian Gardner says
I relate to this on so many levels.
This weekend while visiting our family in Indianapolis, they shared that they were going to be moving to San Francisco next month. We’ve had the pleasure of being near(ish) to them for 15 years, and this is going to be a big change for us all.
We love them dearly, and completely understand the reason they are moving. Since then I’ve been able to look back fondly at the memories we’ve had — but more importantly look forward to the new ones. (even though they’ll look different)
It all boils down to perspective, and making all of the moments you have with those you care about count.