Stepping into my flat is like ambling into Flourish & Blotts, the bookshop in Harry Potter.
You won’t find any owls perched on my coffee table, flapping their wings.
But you will find shelves stacked with books about self-help, magic and chess. A lamp balancing precariously on top of a pile of dusty old tomes. And cupboards, drawers and boxes overflowing with faded, weathered manuscripts.
I even have a slightly damp pile of books under my kitchen sink.
It doesn’t take Dumbledore’s wizardly-wisdom to decipher the secrets of my particular chamber:
I don’t need any more books!
In fact, I’m sure I could expelliarmus some of them to the local charity shop.
Yet when Amazon tells me “you might like this book Tom”, I invariably DO like the look of that book. And it takes heroic willpower not to hit the 1-click order button.
The good news is, I’m getting better at
resisting.
Sometimes I’ll order the Kindle version. Other times I’ll add a book to my basket and leave it there, abandoned and ignored, never to see the light of day.
These strategies work.
And they lead to more space.
Physical space for sure. But mental space
too.
And it got me thinking. Where else could I open up a bit more space by having less or doing less?
For instance,
sometimes I work for the sake of it. I can spend time on activities that sap my energy. And I have a tendency to over-think things.
And just like my bountiful bundle of books, I can see how less of these could open up a bit more space
too.
After all, bigger isn’t always better and more isn’t always merrier. Despite what the proverbs say.
Instead,
sometimes less is more.
Or, as Professor Sprout might've scrawled on her blackboard, < is >.
And on that note, I think I’ll leave things there.
Lumos Maxima!
- Tom
p.s. Whenever you're ready, here are the ways you can connect with
me