Well, readers, it’s been a minute.

I’ve never gone this long without writing to you. For the past 13 years, I’ve been the poster child of consistent communication, writing regularly through rain and snow, good times and bad. I intended to post updates this past year as I ran for the Ohio state legislature, but it became apparent pretty quickly that I needed to focus my energy on the campaign. 

It’s been an interesting year. I know some of you have followed along and some haven’t. That’s okay. This is not a political blog and it never will be, but I’d like to share 4 ways simplicity helped me while running my campaign.  

#1: Simplicity Helps You Focus

This is the reason I started decluttering years ago. When my closets and countertops were clear, I could think. This extends beyond physical clutter. Over the past decade, I’ve simplified my career, my commitments, and the expectations I put on myself and others. It’s been an inner journey and I’ve shared much of it on this blog. 

Simplicity led me to run for office. By clearing the clutter in my home, schedule, and life, my priorities started to emerge. I felt called to serve others in a new way. I never thought this would involve politics, but eventually I could not ignore what I was being called to do. 

#2: Decluttering is Emotionally Healing

I lost my race. This was difficult, and it was compounded by the losses up and down the ballot for people who share my values. For several days after the election I felt unable to do anything beyond small domestic tasks. 

One of those tasks involved the campaign detritus—buttons, T-shirts, banners, and literature—that had taken up residence on the landing at the top of my stairs. I hadn’t bothered with it during the campaign because I knew it was temporary. But afterward, every time I walked past it, I felt pain. 

It felt overwhelming to tackle this space. But I told myself I’d just do “a little bit” and started. An hour later, I’d tossed and recycled much of it and organized the rest into boxes in my attic. The space was clear. More importantly, my heart felt lighter. 

It’s funny… I’ve decluttered hundreds of spaces over the years, but I forget how emotionally healing it can be. This was a good reminder of why I do what I do.  

#3: There is Power in Making Space

I remember when I decluttered my living room years ago, and I removed a plastic 3-drawer bin. When I saw the empty space, I thought, “Now what can I put there?” This was followed quickly by, “Nothing. I am going to put nothing there.” 

There is great power in making space.

Sometimes we make space so that we can enjoy more breathing room. And sometimes we make space because something else in our lives needs room to emerge. This was the case with my campaign. 

About two years ago, I started shutting down my live online classes. (Don’t worry, I still have the on-demand ones!) It felt odd because I’d spent YEARS building these programs, but suddenly, I couldn’t muster the energy to run them. 

Dismantling things you’ve built can generate the same jumping-off-a-cliff feeling we experience when decluttering old T-shirts and kitchen gadgets. It’s that “I spent time and money acquiring this and now I’m just going to let it go? Really??”

Really. 

As I let go of my live classes, I created space in my professional life and the pieces of my campaign started to emerge. That is the magic of simplicity. 

#4: In Uncertainty, Practice Trust

Simplifying your life is an act of trust. Trusting that—if you let something go—whether it’s an extra set of bath towels or a volunteer commitment or an entire career, you’re going to be okay.

This is where I find myself—in uncertainty. My days are quieter and mostly free from commitments. I spend hours hiking local metroparks with my dog. 

I don’t know what’s next, and I’m not rushing toward anything. I know it’s important to be in this stillness, even though it’s uncomfortable, because this is how the next steps will emerge. This is my trust practice.  

Just like every closet I ever decluttered, I need to trust that I’m okay in this new, open, uncertain space. There’s a reason I’m here, even though I don’t know what it is. I do know that open spaces are full of possibilities, and if I’m patient enough, I’ll see them when they’re ready. 

Sending all my love to all of you for a beautiful holiday season.