This is chapter one of my book, The Naked House: Five Principles for a Minimalist Home. Get your copy at Amazon or at your online retailer of choice today.
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The other day, I read the craziest thing. Not crazy in the hyperbolic sense, either—actually a bit crazy. And you know what? Part of me believes it anyway.
It was in the book Zero Limits by spirituality writer Joe Vitale, and the words came from the guru who is the subject of said book. His name is Hew Len, and according to him, he has regular two-way interactions—yes, entire conversations—with all sorts of inanimate objects. My favorite line of his, said of a shabby hotel conference room: “This room says its name is Sheila.”
I know, I know: that’s what I thought, too. Still, this isn’t an entirely novel belief. Only a few weeks before reading Zero Limits I read the book Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity of the Soul by Jane Roberts, which discusses something similar. Seth is the spirit entity channeled by the author back in the 1960s, and the supposed true author of this and several of Roberts’ other books. I figure that anyone who lives in another plane of existence deserves a fair hearing, and because of this I’m tempted to believe him when he says things like, “There is consciousness even in a nail …”
Okay, so you might not be as susceptible to mysticism as I am. And trust me when I say I’m not trying to convert you or anything. I share these quotes simply because doing so makes me feel a bit less kooky when I make the first major philosophical statement of this book, namely: your house is like a person; it has a soul.
Your house is a kindly grandmother or an accomplished musician. It’s a garbage collector or a playful child or an artist. It has an identity and it has a personality, and when you spend time with it, that personality is communicated. It is felt.
Your house is like a person. It has a soul. And that soul can, like a good book, be a friend.
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Beauty is actually pretty important
Every time you walk through the front door of your home—or anyone’s home, for that matter—your mood changes immediately. As soon as you take in the entrance and the first room, your levels of enjoyment, comfort and peace shift in subtle ways. Because that’s what happens to us all when we enter a new space: we take on a little bit of its message. This is why people spend even more money on venue and decorations for a party than they spend on music and food. Being around people you love is great, and you can probably enjoy them anywhere. But being somewhere nice with those same people is much, much nicer. It’s worth the extra money, the extra effort.
People often ask why other people like to go camping. The answer is obvious: the beauty. It’s not the hiking, or the swimming, or the campfire with the s’mores (though I love all these things)—you can get those at a cabin. It’s the feeling of waking up in the morning smelling truly fresh air and stumbling to the bathroom surrounded by trees. It’s making coffee and pancakes outside, in one of the many places on the earth that are absolutely perfectly designed, exactly as they are.
No French doors. No balcony. No granite counter tops and tile back splashes. No fountain-like bathroom taps; you’ll use a water pump that splashes your feet. No gables. No Great Grain Number Three from Sherwin Williams. No microfiber. No just-finished maple hardwood floors. Just nature.
And it’s stunning. Every part of it. Everywhere you look. The birds in the trees, the spider on the log. The dirt is everywhere, and the dirt is wonderful. You wouldn’t think of covering it up or getting rid of it, except inside the tent.
This is why you walked three miles with the heaviest backpack you’ve ever carried or packed your car to the brim, drove a long distance and spent two hours arranging your campsite. This is why you used an outhouse this morning and why you ate dehydrated food for dinner last night. This. Just this. Just the beauty.
Was it worth it? It is for me.
Beauty is important. Beauty makes you feel good. It brings peace. It makes you happier. Of course, our homes will never be beautiful in the way that nature is beautiful. But think about how you feel when you walk into your house every day. Is it a good feeling? If it is, is it as good as it could be? If not, why? What do you want to change?
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Let’s talk about your goal
Soon, I’ll list the five principles of the Naked House. But first, let’s talk for a second about what we’re really doing when we’re doing all this organizing. What is your goal? What are you moving toward? What do you want your home to make you feel?
When I asked myself that question, the answer was obvious. I didn’t want a fancier house, or a bigger house, or even a sunnier, more cheerful one. I just wanted my house to feel peaceful. Home is where we relax. It’s where we go to calm down. I like feeling cheerful, and I understand that some people love yellow kitchens and light blue bathrooms. This isn’t what I wanted, though. I wanted brown. I wanted a muted color palette with very few adornments and an emphasis on the view from our large windows. I wanted my house to look like part of the earth.
Is that what you want, too? Do you want more serenity, simplicity and restfulness in your life? If so, the tips in this book might help. Because here, we’re not just talking about home decor, or cleaning, or organization. What we’re talking about is changing our environment in a way that allows for a fresh new perspective on life.
We’re talking about how to be happier.
Of course, a serene look might not be your goal. You might want a more high-energy look. That’s fine. But consider adding to your vision the element of peace. I contend that even a brighter home with more detail than mine has can benefit from some degree of minimalism.
Whatever look you desire, take a moment before starting your cleaning process to clearly visualize it. Then, if you get discouraged as you work through your rooms, you’ll have a goal image to recall.
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Life is hard. Reorganizing isn’t.
The good news is that you can, of course, make these changes. Even without spending any money, there’s a lot you can do. Behavior change is hard. Character change is really hard. Emotional change is even harder than that. But reorganizing your house? Not hard. Just takes time. Put on a good podcast and it can even be fun. If your brain is telling you otherwise, remind it that it’s just one step. You’re not doing it all in a day. You’re cleaning one shelf, one corner, one area first, and you have a designated box (or two or three) for all the stuff that gets displaced. That box isn’t your job right now. That box is for another day. Today, it’s just this shelf, this corner. And when you’re done, your life will be that much simpler for a good amount of time to come.
There are things in life that are genuinely hard, genuinely suck. Organizing isn’t one of them. It’s easy.
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A brief word on other kinds of clutter
Some people have a difficult time getting rid of their favorite things. Other people enjoy doing so, but lack the time. If you’re the former type, I suggest that you do what you can and pray for grace for the rest. Many experts suggest that the good feelings you get from letting go of the first few things you let go of (the feelings of freedom and self-care) often help inspire you to continue.
For the latter group, a different solution might be needed. Remember, clutter isn’t only in your house; it can be in your life, too. Is there anything you can nix? Anything you can cut back on? Is it possible that at times, you’re afraid of not being busy enough—of being bored? If so, you’re in good company: I detest boredom. But I’ve learned to busy myself in more flexible ways. Instead of taking on a volunteer project or convincing myself I need to work a bit more, earn a bit more money, I come up with time-consuming hobbies that feed me. There’s always something to do, but there’s rarely a deadline. This is how I declutter my busy life.
Another kind of clutter: mind clutter. This one will kill you. If you’re experiencing guilt, regret, anxiety, depression or frequent negativity, please seek help as soon as you can. You don’t deserve that. No one does. It’s garbage.
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What, then, is the Naked House?
Okay, then. Let’s get to it. The Naked House is, in five words, ordered from most important to least:
1. Bare;
2. Organized;
3. Matching;
4. Clean; and
5. Quality.
And really, that’s it—the Naked House philosophy in a nutshell. Our homes may have souls, or they may not, but either way the mood they convey affects us. And a house that has all or most of these five traits is the one that I believe helps us find the inner calm that we seek.
In this book we will tour the Naked House room by room, noticing how these concepts are applied. First, though, an overview of each of these five principles in turn.
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The Naked House is bare; or, The solution is almost always fewer things
When it comes to making your home a more peaceful place, the solution is almost always fewer things. That’s not the only place in this book I’m going to make that statement, and there’s a good reason for that: the first and most important principle of the Naked House is that it’s bare. (That’s why it’s called “naked,” after all.) And so, the question becomes: what exactly do I mean by this term?
Well, what is the image you have in your mind when I use the word “bare”? Is it a room that is completely empty, as if no one lives there at all? Or is there a couch and a few chairs, maybe even a vase with some flowers? For the purposes of this book, the terms “bare” and “naked” aren’t so much about wearing no clothes as they are about wearing nothing that distracts from your beauty.
It is the complete absence of clutter.
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With over 150 Amazon reviews, The Naked House is my best-selling book. Get your copy at Amazon or at your online retailer of choice.
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