November 10, 2023 // 25 days until France
I live by William Morris’s advice to “have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.” But no matter how hard I try to be a minimalist, things pile up in junk drawers, over-stuffed closets, and cluttered corners. These areas feel like static in my American home — I can practically hear them buzzing to be released. And when I do, when I go into purge mode, I get a rush like no other. I love culling things down to only the necessities, only the things I love the most.
Moving does make this easier, and Todd and I have moved a lot over the years together — a dozen times by my last count. Each time has presented a welcome opportunity to reflect on what we want to keep and what we can let go of. To question the items that have sat unused for the last year or two, and question why we keep them around. It’s why I don’t mind moving every couple of years, and in fact I usually look forward to a fresh start somewhere new.
But with this move, I may have gotten more than I bargained for. Because this time, we aren’t moving across town, or even to another state. We are moving from the United States to France, and we’re leaving most of our worldly possessions behind.
Moving stuff overseas is very expensive. Some people will spend tens of thousands of dollars to have a big shipping container with all of their things shipped across the ocean, to live abroad but with their couch and their rugs and their car from home. This was never something that we really wanted, even if we could afford it. Another quote I like: “The things you own end up owning you.” (Thank you, Fight Club).
All that is to say that minimalism is something I've always embraced. But being asked to pack everything we need for our move abroad into three carry-ons and six checked bags? This has been an overwhelming prospect at times, forcing me to carefully assess every item in our house, from the clothes hanging in my closet to the books on our shelves to the magnets on our refrigerator.
Marie Kondo would want to know if it sparks joy. I just want to know if it really matters. Is it worth a place in our little suitcase brigade? Is it going to bring a feeling of hominess and comfort to our new apartment in France? Is it going to make life better, or easier, or happier? Or will I regret bringing it along when I inevitably drop it off at some French charity shop?
Our Bordeaux apartment will be a fraction of the size of our home in Richmond, with a little balcony overlooking the street instead of a sprawling garden. When I imagine our lives there, it’s really just the little things that I think will make it feel like home — that will make it ours. Framed family photos and little treasures from our travels over the years, favorite candles, and Oliver’s prized collections of Wimpy Kid books and Rubik’s cubes and Pokemon cards. A favorite kitchen knife and spatula, some Christmas ornaments, a cozy throw blanket, first aid supplies and snacks that evidently may be harder to come by in France.
I’ll admit, our circumstances do make all of this a bit easier. We’re keeping our home in the U.S. for now and renting it out furnished, so many of our things are staying put until we decide whether this will be a temporary or permanent move for our family. Many more personal items, those in-between things that we don’t love enough to bring but can’t quite let go of, have been boxed up and crammed into a corner of the attic.
There are some big decisions that we’re putting on hold. But if we do decide to stay in France, and we begin to build a life there, I suspect it’ll be easier to let go of those things that didn’t feel as necessary to bring along initially. I suspect that our perspective on stuff might change quite a bit in the year ahead, and I welcome that change.
From what I’ve heard, the French tend to be quite minimalistic. Maybe that’s part of why I’m so drawn to this country, and why I feel at odds in a place where the focus is always on seeking more, bigger, newer, better. I look forward to living in a country where people appreciate quality over quantity, where bigger isn’t always better, and where people honor the old instead of chasing after the brand-new.
Our ultimate goal this year is to embrace the French way of life, and leaving our American tendencies toward maximalism behind is no doubt a significant step in this journey — one that I’m so eager to take.