In the past three years, my family has shifted, broken, ebbed, and flowed more than bottles of liquor on a cruise ship battling rough seas.
We made sweeping changes, we reversed roles. I retired early to stay home with two young children, we moved to a different city to be closer to family, I returned to work for more fulfillment, we significantly downsized spending and living habits in ways many would consider extreme, and my husband confidently bid farewell to a Wall Street career to learn what Michael Keaton’s character felt in the infamous Mr. Mom vacuum scene.
We learned the art of evolving as a modern family, but not in a way easily discernible from the annual Christmas card.
This first part of a 3-part series will explore what we learned along the way.
Lesson #1: The American dream is dysfunctional.
America is obsessed with consumption, a statement as obvious as the nose in front of your face to anyone who has ever watched an hour of prime-time television or spent a day touring big box retailers. What isn’t as obvious or as discussed is the American obsession with success, and the idea that more equals success.
The pervasive attitude of wanting more wears upon each of us in ways we may not even understand. The notion that a bigger house or faster car is good for you or will get you farther in life (better friends, the better job, etc.) is dysfunctional. I say this as someone almost fully committed to this dream some short years ago, before I came around to a different way of thinking.
I now marvel: why are we so stuck in this mindset? Why do we forever place goals in front of us that leave us frustrated and short-changed? At the end of the day, hardwood floors imported from the rainforest and third-row heated seats add so little value to life, and add virtually no value to relationships or mental well-being. But they do cost you time, money, brain power, and perhaps even sanity if you’re the type to obsess over them.
Over the past two years, our entire family of four has actively sought to shed ourselves of material goods and projects that take up time, money, and brain space, even if we think we do need them. Several years ago, we purchased a 3,000 square foot home in anticipation of our children’s teenage years, perhaps 15 years too early. We’ve since downsized from nearly 3,000 square feet to 1,100 square feet and instead of owning, we now rent an amount of home that is appropriate for our present needs. We’ve found this to be ideal for our hearts and our wallets.
By reducing and removing that which caused us stress (6 coffee mugs instead of 30, one mileage-earning credit card instead of six different credit cards, one printer instead of three, using our phone as a scanner instead of owning a separate device, e.g.), we’ve learned that we’re fine. In fact, we’re happier. We feel lighter, more nimble, more open to following life’s open doors when they open. As my husband is fond of saying: “If you don’t fill your closet full of clothes, you’ll have space for something new in the future.”
I hope you’ll join me in the journey–there’s more to come with lessons two and three. Stay tuned!
Taylor Shanklin is the VP of Product Marketing and Strategy at Pursuant. With over a decade spent in the nonprofit technology sector, her passion and purpose is to help charitable organizations connect the dots between marketing, technology, and fundraising. Taylor is also the mind behind Hacks for Good, a passion project where she brings the ideology of growth hacking to the nonprofit sector. A lifelong Austinite, Taylor shares life’s journey with her husband and two children, along with a grumpy old Chihuahua named Toby. In her spare time, she enjoys dancing Zumba, writing about tales of motherhood, and occasionally leaving her kids at camp grandma so that she and her husband can truly enjoy a vacation.
