Showing all posts tagged minimalism

In Books, Culture, Identity, Minimalism, Movies/TV, Nurture, Personal Growth, Politics, Writing

3 Words for 2026

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

Choosing words to focus on for my upcoming year is a favourite December practice for me. I find a time when I’m alone. I close my eyes, breathe deeply, and get quiet enough to listen to my intuition speak. I allow the words I want to rise to the surface of my consciousness, like something submerged in a pool that bobs up to the top.

Every year, I think maybe nothing will be there, but then, like magic, words arrive. This year, those words were: release, imagine, build. They might not be in that order when they initially appear, but when I look at the words, it’s usually easy to decide what comes first. In this case, I want to spend the first portion of 2026 releasing what doesn’t serve me, then imagine my way into new possibilities, before finishing the year by building on those dreams.

I anticipate that release will be the hardest challenge for me. I like to hold onto things. Grievances, irritations, certainties. From years of therapy and five decades of life experience, I know this isn’t a healthy pattern. Life ebbs and flows. Change is a guarantee. Month-by-month and year-by-year, we must re-evaluate what no longer works for us and choose to let some things go.

So I will practice the art of release. For a long time now, I’ve been trying to simplify everything. Minimalism has taught me that it’s better to want less than to have more. I’ve worked on being content with what I have instead of envying what other people have. This has been one of the best decisions of my life. But now, in 2026, I plan to identify and then release even more, so my life and my focus remains uncluttered. I know for sure that I can do anything but not everything, so I will make an effort to release what I no longer need to prioritise what matters most to me.

The second word, imagine, will be easier. I love to dream my way into new hopes and endeavours. I continue to long to form a production company, Ruby Finch Pictures, to turn my literary work into films and TV shows. I planned to do some of this imagining in 2025, but with my commitment to deeper, simpler, quieter this next phase of my career didn’t happen. But there’s time. I’m learning that there’s more time than I think, and slow growth is always preferable to no growth at all.

I’m also applying the word imagine to the murder mystery novel I’m aiming to finish this year, and the political journal I’ve been writing to help me process the endless nightmare of unfolding fascism and hate in our world. I think it falls to each one of us to imagine a healed society and planet. One where equality isn’t for rich or white people, but for every single person who has breath in their lungs. As human beings, we must be able to imagine something more inspiring than the current hierarchical and corporate systems we’ve been made to live under.

Then there’s the last word, build. It’s not enough simply to dream our way into things. We have to put foundations under it. We have to make peace with how slow and messy it can be to build anything that we hope will last. It never goes exactly as planned. I’m hoping to leave room in the building process to be inspired; to change my plans when something better comes along. I want to meet new people this year who might make excellent partners for me with my businesses but also just new friends to hang out with and learn from.

My overall word for 2026 is flexible. This will be a huge challenge for me, because I tend to be rigid as a coping mechanism for life. But I’m going to try to hold looser to everything and everyone. I will continue to practice receiving care and nurture from others, and remember my counsellor’s advice to DO LESS because I tend to over-function and then get resentful.

It’s a whole new year, which offers each of us a fresh chance to try again. To be gentler, with ourselves and others. To have more fun. To laugh every day. To feel afraid and do things anyway. To invest in community care the way we invest in self-care. Here’s to 2026. May it be bright, beautiful, and generous. May each one of us work to make it so.

In Culture, Identity, Minimalism, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships

Space

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Space

Lately I’ve had one word front and centre in my mind and experience: SPACE.

Space to be human. Space to breathe. Space to exist, to think, to discover, to play.

In our modern existence, where so much of life is done behind a screen (or one of my biggest pet peeves, which proves we are living in the forecasted future robot age: people walking in public spaces while staring vacantly at a tiny glowing machine in their hand), anything that brings us back to our own bodies and offers space from machines is becoming an urgent priority.

At the beginning of May, Jason and I went to Seattle to see Rob Bell on his Holy Shift tour. We met up with 4 friends who flew in from Calgary for the evening and a marvellous time was had by all. Both Rob Bell and his opening act (the hilarious Irish author Peter Rollins, who introduced himself by saying “I sell existential despair for money”) mentioned the word space during the tour. I love that feeling of kismet, when you are pondering a concept and others are recognizing its importance at the same time.

We have to work harder than ever to build space into our lives. For me, minimalism is a helpful container for the idea of space, because minimalism is about stripping away what doesn’t matter so we can isolate what we actually do prioritize. Space facilitates this process, for we need to intentionally dial down cultural noise in order to arrive at what we are really on this earth to be or do.

Pete Rollins spoke about how we have to define ourselves by who we aren’t before we can figure out who we are. This has stuck with me. Space comes into this because we are in desperate need of room to explore and discover what matters most to us in a world that is constantly invested in selling us what we don’t require.

I’m working on creating space in several areas of my life:

My Schedule

I’ve never been happier than now, when I’ve cut so much out of my calendar. Saying no to things I don’t want to do feels bloody fantastic and gives me leisure time to enjoy the activities I do want to do.

My Relationships

Carefully curating the people I allow into my inner circle has radically shifted my peace of mind. I want safe people around me. Encouraging ones. Friends who make me laugh. Those I can count on to tell the truth and be there when the chips are down.

My Inner Life

This one is critical. It involves refusing to stop scrolling through my phone whenever I have a spare moment. I’m determined to allow space here for my soul to expand, breathe, heal and grow. 

Our world is a dangerous, unsettled place and we need every available person to wake up and stop numbing with distractions. We need to tune back in, to ourselves first, and then to other actual human beings. To listen to one another. This is the way back home, to better priorities and more meaningful values.

For the last few months I’ve been trying a “name tag” experiment where I refer to anyone in a name tag by their name. I attempt to start a conversation, even if it’s awkward (especially if it’s awkward). The amount of people ordering coffees or buying groceries while staring mindlessly at their phones is alarming. Real flesh-and-blood people are serving us and we can’t even make eye contact? I’m done doing that. My phone stays in my purse.

Space is a valuable commodity. Let’s build it in. The process of waking up to our own lives is profound. Everything has been here, this whole time…trees, sun, flowers, birds singing, cats sleeping curled up like croissants, mothers walking down the street holding hands with toddlers, the barista carefully preparing your specialty coffee while she is being ignored, the people we love most going about their lives while we’ve been too busy to dial in and notice.

Make the space. You won’t get chances forever. The good stuff is right here, right now. It’s time to wake up and pay attention.

In Culture, Minimalism, Parenting, Personal Growth

Minimalist Meet-Up

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Minimalist Meet-Up

Last week, a woman new to minimalism reached out on Facebook to ask if any minimalists lived in her area. She was beginning to purge her possessions and wanted some advice and support from others who are walking a similar path.

I responded right away and we messaged back and forth a bit. Soon a few other minimalists commented as well, and we had ourselves a minimalism coffee date planned for the weekend.

It’s so refreshing to pass along what we know to someone else who is interested in what we have to say. We can also be helped by remembering what it was like at the beginning, when everything is new and overwhelming, and offering a few kind words of support can go a long way.

I felt energized by our meet-up. It’s a wonderful thing at this time of the year, with Black Friday and Cyber Monday advertisements pounding us from all sides, followed shortly by the onslaught that is the Christmas marketing machine, to realize yet again that spending money and accumulating possessions are choices under our direct control.

In no particular order, these were some of the things we discussed at our meet-up:

Finances

We encouraged our new friend to take a good look at where she and her husband spend their money. For me, this was a wake-up call. When you know how much you are spending every month, it can help you make better choices going forward. Our goal is to have no debt other than a mortgage. We are not there yet, but we’re closer than we’ve ever been and that feels fabulous.

Schedule

A big part of the minimalism lifestyle is learning to manage your schedule. No longer conforming to our culture’s obsession with being crazy busy feels awesome. We encouraged our new friend to say no to more things that don’t bring her joy or life and to work at creating space in her calendar. This is one of my favourite parts of my minimalist lifestyle.

Possessions

The woman who reached out to us set aside 3 days to do nothing but purge items from her house. I applaud this effort, but I certainly didn’t have that kind of stamina when I first went through my rooms, closets, drawers and garage. I set a timer for 15 minutes per day and only tackled small, manageable areas. Sure, it took me months, but this system worked well for me.

Maintenance

Those of us who have been minimalists for awhile cautioned her about the maintenance it requires to keep your counters clear of clutter and your drawers from piling up with junk again. Purging once is not enough. You have to be vigilant with everything that comes into your house. I try to deal with papers and shopping right away, making sure it all has a proper place in my home, otherwise the piling up starts to snowball quickly.

Mindset

Becoming a minimalist requires you to change your thinking so that your buying patterns change. Otherwise, you will just be on an endless rat wheel of consuming, purging and re-organizing. We’ve radically changed the way we buy, using lots of little tips and tricks.

Want to hear more? Come join us at a Minimalist Meet-Up or drop me a line and ask away!

In Culture, Minimalism, Nurture

Excess is Killing Us

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

I went to the U2 Joshua Tree 2017 concert in Vancouver on Friday night. Not because I wanted to, but Jason had never been able to get tickets in his younger years and always had a burning desire to see them perform live. Supportive wife that I am, I agreed to go with him for a birthday present.

From what I’ve read, this tour is a scaled-down show for U2 compared to some of their previous tours, but I found it overwhelmingly high-tech, expensive and over the top when it came to lights, screens and effects (admittedly, I attended Christian concerts in my youth with the likes of Michael W. Smith, Steve Green and Amy Grant so I’m not a connoisseur of rock music and I’m a true Granny at heart when it comes to noise and spectacle).

As a culture, we seem to crave endless entertainment. But when is it enough? If we are constantly searching for bigger, louder, more impressive and expensive, when does this thirst ever get quenched? And at what point do we decide it’s too much and now we want something simpler, deeper, more accessible to everyone instead of just those at the top of the economic structure?

My journey into minimalism has radically shifted my perspective on what I’m willing to spend time and money on. I question everything now, which I think is good and healthy (albeit awkward and often tense at parties or functions when I start to rail on about my theories).

When Jason and I discussed this on the way home from the concert, he said, “This live performance is also a unique experience that we’ll have forever. That’s part of what we’re paying for.” I agree with this, in theory, but I still question the cost, both financially and morally, of investing in something so big and loud and insanely expensive for what amounts to ninety minutes of entertainment.

Excess is killing us. Flash and dash does not satisfy long term. I want to invest in depth and substance, something that moves the needle of love, mercy and justice toward the oppressed instead of focusing on my own nostalgia and appetite for entertainment.

Is it wrong to go see U2 in concert? Of course not. But I think it’s okay to admit that I have conflicted feelings about being part of something that costs millions when the world is in such desperate need of water, food, safety, equal rights, environmental conservation and peace (to name just a few of our global issues). These things matter more than my desire to be wowed at any cost.

I don’t know what the answer is here. I wish I did. All I know is that my heart hurts for the intolerance and simmering rage I observe in our society right now. We need to think bigger in terms of solutions and hope for everyone, not just a select few. I want to go beyond consumption, entertainment and individual excess. I long to see what we can do together for the poor, the broken, the marginalized, the sick. Less of what I need, more of what we need.

But how? This is the question I’m desperate to answer.

In Minimalism, Nurture, Personal Growth

The Dark Side of Change

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on Leave a comment
The Dark Side of Change

The dark side of change happens just after the initial excitement dies down. Now you are in the middle of something foreign and strange, without the usual familiar landmarks.

I hate this part of the process. It’s necessary and cannot be avoided, but it’s also unsettling and awkward. I end up declaring that I’ve made a huge mistake, but then I realize that once again I’ve confused unfamiliarity with disaster.

Change is messy. It’s frustrating and awful and glorious, all at the same damn time. The only way I know to get through to the transformation is to trudge through the mud of the frightening middle. No shortcuts exist when we are trying to jumpstart our lives.

the-dark-side-of-changeWe moved this past weekend into our townhouse. As a family, we’ve embraced the ideals of minimalism, but I’ve discovered that it’s one thing to believe in a philosophy and another thing to put it into practice.

Downsizing from a five-bedroom home into a much-smaller three-bedroom townhouse is bloody hard. What looked sleek and clean after minimizing in my big house now appears cluttered and overstuffed in my new space, even after getting rid of lots of our possessions.

I hit several metaphorical walls as we moved in (not to mention literal ones when attempting to bring boxsprings up narrow staircases). I began longing for my big and comfortable house where I knew every inch of the space I had. I craved the familiar, the simple, the stress-free. I cried, a lot. I felt afraid that this move was never going to work and wondered if we could unpick everything that brought us to this point.

Sleep and time are two wonder cures for the exhausted mind and body. My instinct is often to rush, to unpack everything in a single day, to paint every room on all three floors instead of taking it wall by wall. I have trouble celebrating the progress that I make when there are still so many problem areas to solve.

Big change is not easy. If it were straightforward, everyone would be doing it. A provincial move is a stressful experience. The best we can do is be patient and gentle with ourselves while in the midst of so much uncertainty.

Everything we do involves both loss and gain. We say goodbye so that we can now say hello. We cry over what is gone but then we smile when we consider what is ahead. Just because it’s unfamiliar doesn’t mean it’s bad. It’s just not what we know, at least not yet.

I must give this move time. I cannot set the bar so high in terms of what I can get done in a day, a week or even an hour. Process is slow and messy and unpredictable. It’s okay to feel lost and unsure. This is part of being alive. Frailty and grief come with the package deal that is humanity.

When I’m overwhelmed, I will slow down. I will remind myself to breathe. To unclench and surrender to what I cannot possibly see coming. I’ll pet my cats and watch them sleep, for this is a spiritual practice.

The only way to get through the dark side of change is to soldier on. To laugh when the opportunities present themselves. To celebrate using weapons like sparkling wine and Halloween chocolate. To be when I feel more comfortable with the word “do”. To anticipate that some days are simply going to be hard as we make our way through big life transitions.