Clean.

The Gratitude Tree

As we talk more about deeper meaning and less consumption, I kept circling back to this custom in my mind. The Gratitude Tree.

So I pulled this post from last year's archives for you in hopes that it inspires connection and meaning in your family celebration. The materials can be put together the night before and need not be fancy. Becasue simple, I'm finding, often feels better.

 

When I was a child I don't think I really "got" Thanksgiving.

Sure, we gathered around my grandparents table and used the fancy dishes. We said grace and ate a glorious meal.

But I didn't get it.

Not really.

I knew the story of the first Thanksgiving (the version we were told at school anyway), but the meaning was lost on me.

Because grace was just a prayer we said before meals.

It was a memorized and recited, not felt or understood.

I was glad to gather and eat my grandma's cooking, but that was as deep as my gratitude ran.

 

And then one year - as an adult - I got it.

I really got it.

I'm not sure when Thanksgiving clicked for me, but now I count it among my favorite of the year.

Because it's all about gratitude.

("Well, duh," you say. But truly. It didn't sink in until adulthood.)

It's counting blessings. Being thankful for the abundance that we possess.

It's about deeply feeling and noticing all that we have.

And as you might guess, I'm all about that.

And now I look forward to Thanksgiving like I once looked forward to Christmas.

 

Several years ago we started a Gratitude Tree tradition.

It quickly became our favorite Thanksgiving tradition, and one that really brought home the meaning of Thanksgiving for our kids. And come to think of it, for the adults as well.

The Gratitude Tree is a place to note all that you are thankful for.

A way to count your blessings and be mindful of all the richness in your life.

Quite simply it's a tree branch decorated with leaves upon which you've written what you're thankful for.

But it always seems like more than that.

So much more that my mom sometimes keeps the tree from the previous year on her dresser until the following autumn.

Because these blessings are worth remembering throughout the year.

Want to start your own Gratitude Tree tradition?

I thought so.

But keep it simple, won't you? We get so carried away trying to make our traditions picture-perfect to the end of losing our way and forgetting why we're doing it to begin with.

Don't let perfection stand in your way.

Materials

• One branch (or bundle of smaller branches) small enough to fit in your jar or vase
• Mason jar or sturdy vase
• Marbles or stones (optional) to stabilize vase
• Paper (colored paper or old water color paintings are nice but not necessary)
• Paper punch or something pokey to work a hole through your paper
• Yarn or string
• Scissors
• Pencils or pens

Process

Create your "tree"

Cut your branches.

My kids go out each year with clippers and select our branch. It isn't always the most perfect specimen, but I love the role they play in selecting it. If you want a stunning branch, select one on a hike well before the hustle of Thanksgiving.

Feeling fancy? Coat that baby with silver or white sparkly spray paint. Yowza.

Trim the branch so that it isn't obnoxiously tall or wide on your table. You're making a centerpiece - not a brush pile, my friend.

Place the branch in a jar or base. Add pebbles or marbles (optional) to give it a more stable base.

If you have young children and visions of broken vase and bits of tree branch wedged into your turkey, consider a smaller centerpiece. Or as an alternative you can suspend a single branch horizontally above the table. Gorgeous.

Make your leaves

From your old watercolor paintings (or colored paper, or old telephone bills or whatever you've got) cut out leaf shapes. I free form cut simple almond shapes with a little stem, but you can use these templates if you want something more refined.

Punch a hole near the leaf end of your leaves and thread some scrap yarn or string through. Knot.

Arrange your table

Place your tree on your Thanksgiving table.

Surround the tree with scattered leaves and pencils. (Glitter pens would be lovely, but we eat Thanksgiving on Great-Grandma's handmade lace tablecloth. So pencil it is.)

We put our gratitude tree on the table before the guests arrive. Then throughout the evening we all write down anything that we're inspired to share.

Even my dad - not famous for pouring his heart out through the pen - gets into the act.

Share your blessings

After dinner we remove the leaves from the Gratitude Tree and place them in a basket. Then as we gather for dessert or a glass of wine, we pass the basket around the room, taking turns reading the anonymous blessings that were shared.

It's a magical time - sometimes resulting in tears - as we find the words to express all that we are thankful for.

So. Good.

Want more? Five Family Projects to Cultivate Gratitude might be just the ticket. (A post I wrote for Simple Homeschool last year.)

The toys are gone

Several weeks ago we rearranged our house. We changed up the location of our bedrooms to carve out a separate space for each of the kids.

And figuring out where to put all of our belongings in this new arrangement, I was a bit winded by how much stuff we own.

For all of our simplicity aspirations, it's hard to keep the chaos at bay.

Our stuff may be far from the American norm in the type and quantity of our things, but we still have too much stuff. Way too much.

Because a shelf or bin or pile of wooden toys is still a shelf or bin or pile of toys. And six mama-made Waldorf dolls still adds up to six dolls - more than one pair of arms can hold.

And it's not just my kids. The same goes for my craft supplies, pyrex stash, and fabric. We're drowning in excess over here. I suspect we're not alone.

So as we pre-cleaned the kids' bedroom before our big rearrange I commented how much stuff they had. Specifically how much stuff they had on the floor.

So many treasures. So much "potential". So. Much. Stuff.

Their new rooms were smaller than their shared room. Much smaller. Tiny even.

And so I asked: how do you feel when you look at the clutter in your bedroom?

Do you want all this stuff in your new room?

And as it turned out they didn't like the chaos any more than I did. They were overwhelmed by their belongings. They were ready for a change, too.

Because no matter how clean they made their rooms, with too many things it quickly degrades into chaos again. It's nature. Chaos rules.

My solution? Have less stuff.

They agreed.

They were ready to fill a bye-bye box or two. But I took things up a notch. Without pressure I suggested this solution:

What if we boxed up the things we're ready to donate, but also boxed up the things we're ready to live without for a while to store for a season?

If we miss something special we know where to find it.

If we don't we can donate the lot when we're ready.

They agreed with enthusiasm.

Because there was no risk. They decided what to keep, what let go of permanently and what to let go of on a trial basis. It was perfect.

I brought a few bags and boxes upstairs and we set to work - together. I encouraged them along but never pushed, pressured, or scolded.

This was their room, their stuff, their call. We had fun and spent a couple of hours being ruthless with the clutter. There was lots of joking, goofing, and mama-wearing-costumes sort of nonsense. The mood was light.

We had four zones: trash, recycling, thrift-store donations, and "hold". ("Hold" was the most popular for Lupine because it allowed her to let go of things with a safety net that it would still be there if she wanted it again.) We filled bag after bag after bag.

 

And then their room was empty.

Beds, dressers, and - well, mostly just the beds and dressers remained.

 

The toys were gone.

Yes, even most of the toys I made them.

Art on the walls they stopped loving years ago was gone.

Yes, even art I thought was sweet.

Extra clothes were gone.

Yes, even a few old favorites that I would have queitly kept if I were in charge.

It turns out it was a letting go excercise for us all.

The chaos was gone.

And they couldn't have been more delighted.

They each kept a few favorite things. One mama made doll, one small stuffed animal, and one RC car each. A small shared basket of Legos. Sage kept three additional stuffed animals and one action figure;  Lupine kept some of her dress-up clothes and a handful of plastic animals.

That's it.

The sum-total of their toys, aside from board games and homeschooling and craft supplies (though within a few days those and also our books had been pared down as well).

 

No clutter, no junk, almost no toys.

We were liberated from our belongings.

 

And yes, I'm in the midst of the same process with my own things.

 

But what happened next was the most fascinating of all.

There was less grumping and drama in our house. Less frustration. Less anxiety.

More laughter. More harmony. More ease.

We found peace in the open space we created.

 

What do they play with? What they always played with.

Nature. Their imaginations. Each other.

They craft and create, they explore and draw, they read and invent, they cook and they bake.

Because toys have never been where it's at. They've been fun, but not the center of who they are or how they spend their days.

Six weeks later I asked them what they missed.

Of all those bags we sent out to the barn, what were they wanting back? Did they miss the dolls and doll clothes? The toy guns and swords and bows? The costumes and play silks? The action figures and matchbox cars? The dollhouse and fancy carved figurines?

No, actually. They didn't.

They liked it better this way.

Lupine misses nothing. Sage is contemplating bringing one Nerf gun back into his life. But he hasn't gone out to the barn to get it yet.

 

Do we still have a long way to go? Of course.

Drop by any random day and you're sure to be met by a remarkable amount of chaos.

But we're making progress.

And we're not just making progress in the physical reality of our home. We're making progress in our mindset.

Last week my mom was visiting and brought along a "learning toys" catalogue. Lupine poured over the glossy pages and called me in from the other room. "Mama, there is something in here that I really, really want..."

She paused.

"Actually, I'm not sure that I want it. It might just be more stuff laying around."

She showed it to me just the same and then finished with, "It is cool, but I don't actually want it after all."

 

We are transformed.

 

 

Inspired? Here are some tips to making your holiday celebration more meaningful without drowning in more things you don't need.

And you might also enjoy this post from a few years back.

 

Giveaway : : LuSa Organics Holiday Gifts

As many of you know I own a small body care business called LüSa Organics. As the photos above will attest, we have a pretty good time at it, too.

Named after our kids Lupine and Sage (forgive me for no Sage photos, he's a duck-and-run-for-cover kind of kid when it comes to being photographed), LüSa Organics is what Pete and I both have done for work ever since we took that exciting/risky/crazy leap into self-employment more than eight years ago.

Our little company supports our family and helps support four other families in our community. Countless times during the past eight years Pete and I have looked at each other beaming with fingers crossed and whispered, "The experiment is working!"

Because it is an experiment. To leave the safety of health insurance and pensions and a guaranteed income behind. To take a leap of faith into that dark abyss and believe there will be a net beneath you when you need it.

And so far there has been.

The net that catches our family day after day is there because of customers who love what we make and are loyal to LüSa.

From their baby's first bath and every diaper change, to caring for themselves each day, to nurturing their loved ones.

What an honor to be trusted like that. It's something we'll never take for granted.

I'm not sure how many of you found your way to my blog because of my business or my business because of this blog - or how many of you only read here and have yet to discover LüSa.

Those of you that have found your way to my business I want to thank you. It means so much to have you rooting for our family from wherever you call home.

And literally supporting us. Voting for this one little company and the people behind it with every purchase. We're humbled and oh so grateful.

Today I launched a new line that I've devoted much of the past three months to imagining, testing, and perfecting, a holiday line called Yule.

Creations like fizzing bath truffles made with organic arrowroot and essential oils. An allover body balm in a sturdy - yet biodegradable - paperboard tube. And wooden essential oil diffusers to freshen up your closet or car.

It's been an unbelievable amount of work, and and inordinate amount of fun. My shower is bursting with prototypes of organic body scrubs and oils and soaps! (Hard life. I know.)

And I'm here this morning with two missions: one, to encourage you to support small, family-owned businesses this holiday season (mine or those local to you).

And two, to offer a small token of thanks to you for coming here and reading my words, for leaving your comments, for encouraging me along this journey.

Today I am giving away a Yule Nourish gift collection - a rich organic body oil, decadent sugar scrub, moisturizing soap, and "Peace on Earth" room diffuser to one lucky reader.

Like all of the Yule line, the collection comes in your choice of scent: Clementine & Clove or Frankincense & Myrrh.

To enter simply leave a comment below. If you share this post or a link to our holiday products via Twitter, Pinterest, Facebook, other social media - or something more old-school like a phone call or email - you can leave a second comment letting me know how you shared for a second entry.

I'll select a winner later this week.

Comments are now closed. The winner is Tamika A. who said:

I would love to win this! Lusa is on my holiday wish list this year again, hopefully family listens!! Thank you for the opportunity. (I totally have been brushing my teeth with your soap for over a month now...you were right lol, it works great!)

And for everyone here today, simply type "Clean Blog Gift" in the comments field of your next LuSa order (before December 1) and we'll add something special, just for you. With our thanks.

Truly. I thank you.

For reading my words, for seeing my heart, and for supporting my family - one bar of soap, one Booty Balm, and one holiday gift at a time. It means everything.

Love,
Rachel

 

The simplest birthday

Lupine turned eight yesterday.

And her day was so sweet, so simple, so mellow.

So Lupine.

She decided to skip the party this year in exchange for a day in town last week with one dear friend. We went for sushi, to the children's museum and the thrift store. Simple. Easy. Fun.

 

That left yesterday wide open. We made art together ("This is like a whole extra birthday present, mama!"), played games, read books, and ate some lots of her favorite foods.

 

The gifts she received were unwrapped slowly throughout the day and appreciated deeply.

A bag of tulip bulbs from her papa and the muscle behind tilling her a new flower garden.

A fancy ceiling light from my dad, hung in her room before the day's end.

A replacement pair of Lupine's favorite earrings from Sage, one of which was lost this summer.

A rad t-shirt and sweet stationary kit from my mom.

And a pair of mittens and cozy vest from me that I knitted up during the past few weeks from yarn in my stash.

 

No toys, no clutter, just things she will use and treasure.

It was lovely.

 

And then we made a cake together, ate Paleo samosas and dal for dinner (whoa. so good.), found her worn wool birthday crown, and lit the candles on our wooden spiral as we read her story, year by year.

Stories of her birth, her growth, her unfolding.

Stories of this strong spirit, where she has been, and the promise of all that is before her.

And truly, I can't wait to see where she goes from here.

 

Happy Birthday, Lupine. You're made of magic.

Love,

Mama

 

If you'd like suggestions of how to keep birthdays simple and meaningful, do let me know. I'd be happy to write a post to share some ideas!

 

Ten tips to simplify your holiday

This is a repost from last year, one of the most popular, resonant posts I have ever shared. It struck a cord for so many of you who are striving for less stuff and more meaning in your lives.

We're on a serious simplicity kick over here.

Our house is consciously small, and that means we have to filter out things we already have and stay on top of how much new stuff comes in.

Recently Lupine and I were tucking into bed and as she cozied up to her two favorite dolls, both made by me.

She looked up at me and said, "Mama, don't ever make me another doll. Because if you do I'll love it so much that I'll forget how much I love the dolls I already have."

And, whoa.

Because, yes. It's like that, isn't it?

Too much stuff means we lose track of what we already treasure. We get buried. Overwhelmed.

We become consumers in a big and mindless way.

The truth is, two dolls is probably one too many.

 

So this holiday we're keeping it simple.

 

It's a path we've been on for years.

And yes, I'm blessed with my own parents who "get it" and keep things simple.

And we have a small family. Very little stuff comes into our life every season.

But even without a like-minded family, you can take strides toward simplicity. And see measurable changes!

Here are ten tips to keep your holiday as simple as you can this season, regardless of where you are now.

1. Be honest with family

The holidays can be hard.

So. Much. Stuff!

And for many of us, we find ourselves buried in things to give and receive.

If the holidays leave you feeling a little sick with all the buying, be gentle and honest with those you love.

Year after year if you need to.

I have a few friends who have taken this step as far as being honest that much of what is given is not kept. It's a tough message, but an important one, too.

Request that they give less, or give consumables or non-tangible gifts for the holiday (think museum membership, restaurant gift certificate, or some special ingredients for your kitchen).

Sometimes it takes our family a while to catch on, so be patient as they move towards the path of less with you.

2. Create meaningful traditions

If your holiday revolves around what is under the tree, simplifying can be uncomfortable.

Create traditions that your family looks forward to more than the presents.

We love dipping or rolling candles every Solstice eve, decorating our gingerbread houses, and staying up far past our bedtime.

And this year we're serving dinner at a soup kitchen on Christmas day. We can't wait!

Yes, gifts are lovely, but they aren't the center of our celebration.

3. Ask for and give experiences

Gifts like a pottery class, a one-on-one day with someone special, or a trip to the museum are among the best around.

These are - hands down - the most treasured and remembered gifts my kids receive.

Remind your family that gifts of yourself are remembered for far longer than a new toy.

And keep asking.

Year after year if you have to.

With loving persistence most of them will catch on.

4. Live your truth

Be a good example!

Start this year by toning down the stuff that comes into your own celebration.

The first year we had a super simple holiday I was nervous. Will the kids be disappointed?

And the answer was a resounding no!

No one noticed how simple our giving had become because we took it a little at a time and we replaced things with experiences. 

(You can read about our super simple celebration from last winter here.)

5. Love coupons

Love coupons are wonderful filler if you are worried about there being not enough under the tree.

And they are a treasured gift in their own right.

My parents began this tradition when our budget was tight when I was a child, and I still love it today.

A Love Coupon is simply a promise - to shovel the snow or take a picnic together; share a trip to the movies or a night camping in the back yard.

Simple gifts of yourself or experiences to share.

One year I gave Pete a dozen date coupons. Sweet, simple, and stuff-less.

Often they are things you would have done anyway, but creating a coupon for it makes it even more special, and something to look forward to.

6. Shop small

If you are buying some gifts (or have a family member who is) give or request handmade.

Ditch the big box store madness and shop small. Shop local. Shop family-owned. 

You can even register for what you want at the Alternative Gift Registry and share the list with your family.

As someone who owns a small business myself, I'll attest to the impact of each and every purchase. You make a difference when you shop small. 

With a bit of searching all kinds of treasures (like this gorgeous doll) will appear.

(Art pictured by local-to-me artist Tammy Olson.)

7. Create it yourself

A gift made by you is the best gift of all!

And you don't have to be crafty to enjoy a DIY holiday.

I have collected some great (arguably crafty) holiday project ideas here and here, but consider a gift of infused olive oil or vinegar, canned goods, homemade mustard, bath fizzies, chocolates, or other simple kitchen wizardry.

And framed kid art is always a hit.

Trust me when I say that people flip when given a small, handmade treat from your heart.

8. Give to charity

If your family loves to buy, request items for a charity you love.

Gifts of pet supplies for the local animal shelter, a Heifer Project donation for a family in need, shampoos, soaps, and lotions for the women's shelter, food for the food pantry.

Make a habit of giving of the abundance your family enjoys.

If your message is not heard this season and more gifts come in than you want to keep, those can also be donated. As one friend put it, "Keep the love and pass the gift along."

9. Be patient

Remember that your partner, your dad, or your grandma might not "get it" the first year.

Or the second.

Or the third.

But trust that they are doing their best with the tools that they have.

Remember that for many buying equates love. And it can be a hard story to re-write.

Keep the spirit of love and compassion in your heart as those you care about (yes, maybe even you!) stumble along this new road.

Change is hard. Give it time.

And for perspective, while my parents give simply, my grandparents did not. When I was a kid I got more gifts than I could count every year.

And I turned out okay.

10. Enjoy this holiday

And when all is said and done, enjoy the holiday - whatever it brings.

Reach for gratitude for your family, your community, your life, and this season.

Go with the flow, as best as you can.

And then next year, begin again.

 

Love,

Rachel

 

Into tall trees

We went to the woods again, called back by the quiet beauty of the forest after the leaves fall.

We hiked and explored and looked for deer sign, moss, crystals, and caves.

At some point Pete climbed far up into a tall pine for a better view of the woods.

Within minutes of his descent I looked up to see Sage scaling the very same branches.

 

We hiked deeper into the woods and before long it was time to head home. As our path brought us again to the same tall pine, Lupine walked beneath it and began her own ascent.

I watched in awe, marveling at their strength and confidence and their awareness of their own power and limits.

And as I did I reflected on the story that this simple tree-climbing told me.

 

Our children are watching us - every day.

When we stumble, when we soar.

When we are inauthentic, kind, judgmental, or loving.

How much are their lives shaped by the everyday choices that we make?

Because how we live each day is a much truer lesson than the words we speak.

 

And as we hiked I wondered...

Am I appreciative?

Patient?

Attentive?

Kind?

Do I grieve and love and live this with my heart wide open?

I hope so.

 

And do I struggle? Do I have my vices and my shadows?

Of course. We all do.

What do my children see when they watch me?

 

I want my kids to see a person who loves without condition. Who delights in helping others without expectation of something in return.

I want them to see me love and care for myself. With self-respect not self-doubt, and with patience for my own shortcomings.

I want them to see me treat the world with love and tenderness, regardless of what the world might hand back to me.

Knowing that my children are watching makes me not only strive to be a better mother, but a better me.

 

Because soon they will me follow me high into the branches of whatever trees I climb.

And I will choose my trees and my footholds more wisely because these two are here.

Watching.