Soulful Simplicity

Soulful Simplicity Plot Summary

Introduction

The morning sunlight streamed through my office window as I stared at the mounting pile of bills, the overflowing inbox, and the endless to-do lists scattered across my desk. The familiar tightness in my chest returned – that constant companion of stress and overwhelm that had become my new normal. Like so many of us, I had been caught in the cycle of more: more work, more commitments, more possessions, more debt. The irony wasn't lost on me that in my pursuit of a fuller life, I had created one so cluttered that I could barely breathe within it. Perhaps you've found yourself in a similar place – wondering how your life became so complicated, so fast-paced, so... full, yet somehow empty at the same time. The journey from chaos to meaningful living isn't about dramatic, overnight transformation. Rather, it's about making intentional, sometimes painful choices to release what no longer serves us. It's about discovering that when we have the courage to let go – of possessions, of obligations, of others' expectations – we create space for what truly matters: connection, presence, purpose, and love. This gentle path of simplicity isn't about deprivation; it's about abundance of a different kind – the abundance that comes when we align our outer lives with our inner values and find ourselves, perhaps for the first time, truly at home.

Chapter 1: The Wake-up Call: When Health Forces a Life Change

I could feel the gadolinium contrast pushing through my vein as I lay in the MRI machine. A wave of warmth rushed up my arm and through my entire body. My face flushed, nausea hit, and then panic. The machine was shaking, sounding like ten thousand jackhammers, while my head was caged and my arms pinned. I hadn't let myself get really scared until now. For months, I'd been fighting vertigo, fatigue, and other symptoms, blaming stress and an ear infection. I was training for a cycling event to raise money for MS research – ironically, a disease I knew little about except that my boss had it. It had been a stressful spring. I was working long hours, chairing my daughter's school auction, and had just returned from visiting my sister in Germany. My grandfather had died, too. In retrospect, I can see how all these stressors might have triggered what was happening to my body, but at the time, I was just pushing through, barely handling it all. On the outside, it looked like balance. On the inside, it felt like hell. After numerous tests – MRIs, ear testing, eye testing, spinal cord MRIs, heart ultrasounds, and finally a spinal tap – I got the phone call while at work. My doctor initially told me I didn't have MS, saying she was surprised no one had called me with the week-old results. When I explained I'd only had the test a few days ago, she paused and called back three minutes later: "Oops. I was looking at the wrong chart. Yep, you have MS." Just like that, my fate was delivered over the phone, as casually as "Do you want fries with that?" Telling my daughter was the hardest part. I took her for ice cream, thinking a happy place might offset the sad news. When I told her, tears pooled in her beautiful brown eyes. She ran out to the car, and as we sat in the backseat, I told her the two things I thought she needed to hear: "I'm not going to die" and "You aren't going to get it." Later, she confessed she'd seen MS books in my car weeks earlier. Had I known she was already worried, I would have started the conversation sooner. In that moment, I transitioned from scared and worried to knowing I would fight for my health and win. I would do that for us. This diagnosis became my wake-up call – the one I couldn't ignore. The whispers and gentle nudges hadn't worked, but multiple sclerosis? Now I was listening. I hadn't been listening for a long time – not to my body, my heart, or my soul. I had been reacting, going through motions, trying to keep up with life's demands. The universe must have known it would take something dramatic to capture my attention, to force me to reconsider how I was living. Sometimes our bodies will tell us what our minds refuse to acknowledge: that the way we're living is unsustainable.

Chapter 2: Letting Go: The Emotional Journey of Decluttering

I used to declutter twice a year – once to ring in the new year and again in the spring. I did it to "get organized" and "start fresh," but really I was just making room for new stuff. When I finally decided to declutter for good, my methods didn't change much, but my intention did. This time, with each thing I let go of, I released a piece of stress and made room to figure out what I really cared about. I started with a simple pass around my house with a box. I filled it with things I barely noticed from day to day, or didn't use or appreciate – vases, empty picture frames, clothes that didn't fit, duplicate measuring cups and glassware. Then I waited to see if I would miss anything and to see if my space felt different. It did. I couldn't really tell what wasn't there anymore, but I definitely noticed what was starting to appear: space and light. There was so much more light. That encouraged me to take another pass, and another and another. As I continued decluttering, I discovered that we own things for many reasons, but usually because we want to be someone we are not, feel something we don't, or prove we are something we don't think we are. I owned hiking equipment I never used, books I never read, and clothes with tags still attached. I kept things "just in case" – clothes that might fit again someday, random parts that might belong to something, keys to unknown locks. I realized these excuses masked deeper fears: fear of not having enough, fear of letting go, fear of making a mistake. The most challenging items to release were sentimental ones. When I finally sifted through my memory boxes of ticket stubs and love letters, my mind wasn't present anymore. I wanted to put it all back and deal with it another day. Then I remembered that I wanted my quality of life to be more about "How is this helping?" instead of "How is this not hurting?" Once I identified why I wanted to let it all go – to be present for my life now instead of preserving fragments of the past – the paper and plastic stuff that made up my memories didn't have a hold on me anymore. What I discovered through this emotional journey is that letting go isn't just about creating physical space – it's about creating mental, emotional, and spiritual space too. The real freedom comes not just from having emptier closets, but from releasing the guilt, expectations, and stories we've attached to our possessions. Each item we release is an opportunity to lighten our emotional load, to practice letting go with grace, and to remember that our memories and identities aren't dependent on the things we own.

Chapter 3: From Financial Burden to Freedom: Redefining Success

I applied for my first credit card on a college campus before I ever set foot in a classroom. Within a year, I had two credit cards with the same company and was using one to pay the other. My twenties were about shuffling dollars around, making minimum payments, and asking collectors to back off. As stressful as that was, I tried to have a laissez-faire attitude about it all. I figured if my credit score was already in the toilet, what's a little more debt? By the time I was looking for "a real job," money was my number-one consideration. Considering what I really wanted to do and how I wanted to spend my time never crossed my mind. Life became simply about making ends meet. I was constantly making decisions about what bills to pay, what to buy, and what to sacrifice. I had never been an adult without owing someone money. After my MS diagnosis, my husband Mark and I decided to eliminate as much stress as possible from our lives. We realized our financial situation was a major source of anxiety, so we committed to becoming debt-free. I called and canceled all my credit cards in one afternoon – MasterCard, The Gap, Victoria's Secret, JCPenney, Macy's – cutting up all the "ends" I had worked so hard to meet year after year. We followed financial advisor Dave Ramsey's approach, starting with saving $1,000 for emergencies. This sounded counterintuitive – why save when we had debt to pay? – but we decided to trust the process. We tackled our smallest debts first, building momentum with each one we paid off. We stopped buying things we didn't need and started selling possessions worth more than $50. Every penny earned went toward debt. The process took years and changed many of our behaviors, including recreational shopping and buying things we thought we were supposed to have. The better I felt physically, the less I cared about upgrading appliances or buying new carpet. We started talking more about what kind of life we wanted to have, how we wanted to support our daughter, and what life would look like when we were debt-free. Through this journey, I discovered that my definition of success had been completely backward. For so long, I had measured success in deadlines and dollars, comparing and competing my way to bigger numbers and more stuff. I forgot to include the rest of my life in my success equation. Now, my metrics include how I spend my time and how I treat people, including myself. Success has nothing to do with deadlines, dollars, stuff, square footage, or job titles anymore. This redefinition has perhaps been the most liberating aspect of our financial journey – realizing that true freedom comes not from having more, but from needing less.

Chapter 4: The Busy Boycott: Making Time for What Matters

I was that girl – always "so busy" or "crazy busy" or, you know, "good, but busy." I used my busyness as a sign that I was important, needed, and really good at doing it all. In reality, I wasn't very good at doing it all. I made mistakes, compromised my health, and neglected the people and things that mattered most to me. Being busy became more important than actually getting things done. One afternoon, after a crazy day at work, I was driving my daughter home from school. I was barreling down the freeway with my phone to my ear while she was telling me about her day. I was nodding, glancing over at her, and responding occasionally with one- or two-word sentences. When we got home, I pulled into the garage and watched her get out of the car with her backpack. It struck me that I could barely remember any of our conversation, let alone the drive home. I was so consumed with being busy that I risked our lives driving distracted and missed a precious opportunity to connect with my child. The next day, I banned my phone from the car. I vowed to show up fully for the people I love, starting with her. That's when I unknowingly began my busy boycott. Surprisingly, my clients didn't notice. My boss didn't notice. My sales went up, and most important, my daughter came first, not just in my thoughts but through my actions too. To help others break free from the busy addiction, I developed a 21-day challenge with three simple steps: First, stop talking about how busy you are. For seven days, ban the word "busy" from your vocabulary. When you tell someone how busy you are, you remind yourself too, and often "I'm so busy" comes across as "I'm too busy for you." Second, do less. Every day for the next seven days, eliminate one thing from your calendar or to-do list. Don't postpone it – let it go. Third, linger longer. Savor good food, conversation, and beautiful views. Fall in love. Smile. Breathe. The real revelation in boycotting busy is discovering that busyness is a choice, not an inevitable state of modern life. When we slow down, we can actually accomplish what matters most with greater attention and intention. We stop measuring our worth by how much we do and start measuring it by how fully we live. The opposite of a busy life isn't laziness – it's a full, intentional life aligned with our deepest values and desires. By choosing presence over productivity, we reclaim not just our time, but our humanity.

Chapter 5: Finding Your Heart Practice: Reconnecting with Yourself

I didn't know when I started simplifying my life that it would lead me back to myself. The process began with external changes – decluttering my home, paying off debt, wearing fewer clothes – but gradually moved inward. As I created more physical space, I discovered I needed a practice to help me reconnect with my heart, which had been muffled for so long under the noise of busyness and acquisition. My heart practice started simply: after writing quietly or meditating, I would place one hand on my heart and cover it with the other, as if I were holding my heart. It was a gesture that said, "I've got you. I trust you. I am here to listen to you." Then I'd sit with my eyes softly looking down or closed, and wait. Sometimes there was nothing, just me sitting quietly holding my heart. But the more I practiced, and the safer my heart felt, the more she spoke to me. When I began asking questions – "How are things going in my life? How do I feel physically? How do I feel emotionally? What do I love about my life?" – I discovered that my heart and soul had something to offer. Giving that connection room to guide me was making me stronger, making me lighter, and making me...me. This wasn't a mystical practice but my right and responsibility to remember who I was and to show up in the world as that person. The yoga mat became another place to listen to my heart. After many years of practice, I don't do handstands or challenging poses, but I move my body, put my hands on my heart, and listen for the lessons. Yoga taught me that my thoughts limit my actions, that I can't do everything today, that steadiness lies between ease and strain, and that action kills fear. Most importantly, it taught me that outward actions are directly connected to internal reactions. In the final pose of a yoga class, when we're invited to completely let go, I learned that letting go is the hardest pose of all. Through these practices, I discovered that simplicity doesn't change who you are; it brings you back to who you are. When we hear about the benefits of simplicity, we immediately think of organized sock drawers and tidy bookshelves, but it's much more profound. Getting rid of everything that doesn't matter allows you to remember who you are. Your heart knows things – if you will listen, she will help you find your way home to yourself.

Chapter 6: Simplicity as the Path Back to Love

Simplicity has been my way back to people I love, work I love, and a life that makes me smile at least ninety-nine times a day. It may start with decluttering your kitchen. Once you clear the clutter, simplicity shines a light on your kitchen table and the meals you used to share there before you covered it with bills, schoolwork, and the other things that had no place of their own. The clutter-free table becomes your way back to healthy meals, family laughter, and candlelit romantic dinners. When you simplify your closet, at first the focus is on sorting and donating clothes, but after a while, your lighter wardrobe attracts more compliments, less decision fatigue, and the happy realization that you're wearing your favorite clothes every day. You stop wearing the jeans that pinch your waist, the coat you wore during a bad relationship, and the shoes you held onto because they were so expensive, even though they give you blisters. You get rid of the guilt, the sadness, and all the other emotions tied up in your clothes. As you simplify your calendar and start saying no when your heart says no, you will have more time to take care of yourself, think, and linger. Most mornings now, I don't check email, I don't work on work, and I don't clean my house. Usually, the only thing I work on in the morning is my heart, and I'm okay with that. Letting go of what I think I should do and working on my heart has been my way back to love. It has always been about love. My mom showered me with love on our trips to Boston when I was young, and I went into debt trying to love my three-year-old daughter with Christmas presents she could never appreciate. All of the "more" wasn't just for her – it was for me too, because I didn't just think more + more = more, I thought more + more = love. By letting go, I was able to see that love could stand alone. It didn't have to come attached to presents, shopping trips, or big work bonuses. I didn't have to earn or prove love. When I discovered that I was enough without anything else, I saw that I was love. I am love. You are too. We've been the love we seek all along. It's just been hiding beneath all of the layers of clutter, busyness, and show we use to protect ourselves from the pain. This is perhaps the most profound gift of simplicity – not just creating more space in our homes, but creating more space in our hearts for what truly matters.

Chapter 7: The Upsides of Downsizing: Living Small to Live Big

In May 2013, my husband and I moved from our 2,000-square-foot home to a 750-square-foot apartment. After letting go of so much stuff, we had too much space. People may have thought we were going backward, or making poor financial decisions, but the benefits of these changes made us less concerned with what others thought. Before we downsized, there were three of us living in a house with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, an office, a big kitchen and dining room, a family room, and a living room. We also had five closets, a big deck, garage, and storage shed in the backyard. Every space was a container for our stuff. We didn't do much entertaining, but because you're supposed to have a table in the kitchen, and the dining room, and on the deck, we had three dining tables. Around those tables were twenty chairs. We had twenty chairs for three people. Since moving to a smaller space, we've noticed tremendous upsides like less time cleaning, more time enjoying the outdoors, lower utility bills, no repair or maintenance responsibilities, and less stress. We found that clutter attracts clutter, so we're more intentional about finding a place for things as they come in. Less indoor space provides more time to appreciate outdoor space, and clutter is more obvious, demanding immediate attention. We've discovered that the things that make a place feel like home aren't things at all. It feels like home when I cook a familiar meal, listen to my favorite music, spend time with my husband and daughter, and when I write. Living with less has given us the time and space to appreciate all the things that make a house a home. We finally realized that our home is not a container for our stuff. Instead, it is a place for love and connection. The author Francine Jay says, "Your home is a living space, not a storage space." This shift in perspective has been transformative. When we think of our homes as containers for living rather than storing, we naturally want to clear the unnecessary to make room for experience, connection, and joy. Downsizing wasn't about depriving ourselves – it was about enriching our lives by removing what was in the way of what truly mattered. Living small to live big means recognizing that the quality of our lives isn't measured by square footage or possessions, but by the depth of our relationships, the richness of our experiences, and the freedom to pursue what brings us joy. In letting go of the excess, we haven't lost anything of value – we've gained everything that matters.

Summary

The journey through chaos to meaning isn't about dramatic transformation, but about making intentional choices to release what no longer serves us. When we have the courage to let go – of possessions, obligations, and others' expectations – we create space for what truly matters: connection, presence, purpose, and love. A soulful simplicity isn't about living with the least amount of stuff or in some perfect state of minimalism. It's about making space in our lives to discover and nurture what brings us authentic joy. The profound truth woven throughout this journey is that simplicity is the way back to love. By clearing away the clutter that clouds our vision, silences our hearts, and disconnects us from ourselves, we find our way back to the love that has always been waiting. We discover that we already have what we've been frantically searching for – that we are enough, that we have enough, and that we've been the love we seek all along. When we release the need to prove our worth through acquisition and achievement, we free ourselves to live with intention, presence, and grace. In the quiet spaces we create, we hear our heart's whispers and remember who we truly are. This is the ultimate gift of simplicity: not a life with less, but a life with so much more.

About Author

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Courtney Carver

Courtney Carver writes things. She wrote a book called Soulful Simplicity and the simplicity blog, bemorewithless.com. She shares things that make her laugh and cry on Instagram (@bemorewithless). She doesn't know her Myers Briggs Type but she knows she's an introvert because she needs to be free from humans several times a day (cats and dogs are always welcome). Aside from her seasonal wardrobe, she doesn't count her things.Carver doesn't have an impressive degree, awards, or a big, fancy home full of stuff. Instead, she selectively surrounds herself with her favorite things and people she loves. She does work she truly cares about, goes on adventures (in the world or in her own backyard) and likes chai lattes with almond milk while reading or writing.Her new book, Project 333, The Minimalist Fashion Challenge That Proves Less Really is So Much More will help you create a capsule wardrobe and a beautiful life.

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