Oh, the places we went.

In the moments before the Mr. and I rang in the new year over a binge session of Cobra Kai, we engaged in the obligatory NYE reflections over the past year, and even with all the plot twists and thickening of the last 12 months, we were still grateful to be able to get outdoors and explore quite a bit as a family.

Since I’m laid up in bed with the sniffles today, I thought I would share some of our family’s favorite travel moments from 2021:

SEATTLE, WA (APRIL)

In April, my in-laws flew in to Portland, and we headed to Seattle to explore the city. We stayed at the quirky Graduate Hotel (FYI, the building did not have A/C, which our hot-natured crew really could have used on this particularly warm spring week) and spent a couple of jam-packed days visiting the Space Needle, the zoo, the History of Flight Museum, and Pike Place Market. If you’re ever in Seattle, you really should grab a latte from Storyville Coffee at the market or a gluten-free fried chicken biscuit from Honest Biscuits, two of our favorite spots.

GOLD BEACH, REDWOOD NATIONAL FOREST, AND SCENIC HIGHWAY 101 (JUNE)

If you want to read more about our trip down the Oregon coast into Northern California, you can check out my other blog posts here and here and here. We started with a camping trip to celebrate our middle child’s and the Mr.’s birthdays, including a trip to the Prehistoric Gardens on Highway 101. But when our campsite got rained out night one, our camping trip turned into a beachside retreat. This adventure was probably my favorite of 2021, where we just had to rally and make the best of a disappointing situation, and it ended up being one of the best vacations we’ve had. And I’m convinced the Oregon coast is one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

OSWALD WEST (JULY)

Sometime in July, we were itching to escape Portland for a bit, so a quick day trip to Oswald West was in order. I remember this day vividly, the strain and exhaustion of daily life slowly melting away as we climbed over nurse logs and tiptoed across the pebbled creek near the shore. We dined at perhaps our favorite restaurant in Oregon, Public Coast Brewing Co., a Cannon Beach treasure we happened upon when Kelley and I came to the PNW for the first time. With their abundance of gluten-free items on the menu, including the best onion rings I’ve ever tasted, it’s our whole family’s first choice when we’re anywhere near the coast. (Every now and then, we’ll make a special trip to Cannon Beach just because we get a hankering for those onion rings.)

OLYMPIC PENINSULA / ANACORTES / BAKER LAKE, WA (SEPTEMBER)

We may be 0 for 3 when it comes to tent camping in the Pacific Northwest, but our “camping” trip to the Olympic Peninsula was still a very rich experience. You can read more about the highlights of our week-long excursion, and our recommendations if you’re ever in the area, here.

BEND, OR / SMITH ROCK STATE PARK (NOVEMBER)

We kind of decided on a whim to go to Bend for a long Veteran’s Day weekend, but we had travel points through our credit card that paid for the hotel and funds from our charter school allotment to take a field trip to the local High Desert Museum, so we planned a last-minute mini-vacay. Bend is, in a word, sunny. I guess that’s the first thing we notice now as Portlanders. We enjoyed strolling through Drake Park in the downtown area, sipping cups of coffee from the Looney Bean coffeehouse as our kids played on the Columbia Park playground. We stayed at a hotel in the Old Mill District and enjoyed gluten-free pasta from Pastini after window shopping. We saw otters and birds of prey at the High Desert Museum and took our best guesses at landmarks from Pilot Butte after enjoying a breakfast of French toast and banana cream doughnuts from the Dough Nut on Greenwood Avenue. (Seriously, you have to try one sometime. They also have a nice selection of gluten-free doughnuts that our kids devoured.) On our way back to Portland, we stopped for a hike at Smith Rock State Park and were, once again, blown away by the natural beauty that is central Oregon, but not before I introduced our kids to the iconic last Blockbuster video in America, where I fangirled all over the blue and yellow interior. (I loved working at our local Blockbuster when I was in high school.)

Almost three years into calling the Pacific Northwest home, and we still can’t get over the varied beauty that’s here. May we never lose the sense of wonder we feel when we step outside our front door, and may 2022 bring on even more adventures to come.

Embracing less to experience more.

We don’t always make life changes, but when we do, it’s “go big or go home.”

Which is exactly what we did. In July, we moved from our already cozy 1,000-square-foot ranch home with the big fenced backyard to a 972-square-foot apartment flat with a balcony. We’ve had some interesting reactions to this, so I thought I’d take a moment to explain our decision.

I started feeling the urge to get our home ready to sell when COVID-19 sent everyone into quarantine. We were some of the newer employees at our organization, so I wanted to be prepared in the event we were laid off and needed to sell our home. But the more we worked on our home, I kept having the thought, Well, what if we sold our home anyway?

The market was the best it had been or probably would be, so we felt confident we would receive the most for our home that we’d probably be able to get without putting a lot of serious work into it. Built in 1960, our home had some major impending repairs, if we stayed for much longer: the electrical, plumbing, original hardwood floors, and roof would all need replacing, and we didn’t have, nor would we want to spend, that kind of money on this particular house. Financially, it was a smart decision to sell, and with that sell, we were able to pay off credit card debt, auto loans, my student loan and medical bills, and create a generous emergency fund. The breathing room and peace of mind this has given us is simply priceless.

I also learned during quarantine that we lived two doors down from a drug house. During the day, we had a steady stream of “customers” parking stolen cars in front of our home and walking down to that house, and it was unsettling being home by myself with three kids. While we lived in a generally safe and quiet neighborhood, it really only takes one bad apple to spoil the bunch. We were constantly on high alert, and the residents of that home were becoming increasingly volatile. So we felt it was time to move on.

One of our family values is spending time adventuring together, but we spent so much of our time and money maintaining a home that it cut into our quality time as a family. Days off were filled with yard work and chores. Extra money that could be saved for travel was often spent on repairs or upgrades to the house. Downsizing to an apartment has afforded us the extra budget and time for the things we really enjoy. Evenings and weekends can be spent outdoors or exploring our beautiful state rather than on home maintenance.

For years, the house was the goal, as it is for many Americans. We’ve always heard that renting is just throwing away money, and that we should invest in real estate at the first opportunity. But renting offers a chance to invest in a life based on our values—debt-free, family-focused, people-serving, adventure-seeking—that owning a home just couldn’t offer (at least not with home prices in Portland). Besides, there’s a pool here.

The day we moved into our new space, I watched our daughter pirouette across the empty living room floor of our home as we said goodbye, and I thought about how much I would miss the house. The midcentury modern ranch layout with craftsman touches sprinkled in. Sitting under the twinkle lights on the back porch with my handsome man and a glass of wine after putting the kids to bed. Laying on a blanket in the backyard with my girl watching the planes fly overhead (oh yeah, we lived in a flight path). Fire pits with s’mores and backyard campouts. Sitting outside after schoolwork was over, racing to finish our popsicles before they dripped down our palms. Observing the baby bunny that lived under our shed lose its downy fluff and grow into its long legs through spring and summer. Playing volleyball and running through the sprinkler and chatting over the fence with our elderly neighbor—the one with the green thumb and the 8-foot corn stalks in his backyard. Processing deep theological truths over coffee in the living room with ladies in my small groups.

It was a place of refuge for our family over the past two years, and we made it our own. It was a place of exponential personal growth for each of us. But even with the emotions that inevitably bubble up after moving on, there is peace in taking a huge step to live more simply and attain financial freedom.

It’s odd that, now that we’ve been in the apartment for a month, we don’t really even think about our old house. Even without our big backyard, extra fridge in the garage, and home gym, we are enjoying our new space. Even with one less bedroom, we gained one more bathroom, some great amenities, and no maintenance. (Did I mention the pool?)

Less yard work, more weekend adventures. Less stuff, more creativity. Less chores, more hikes. Less repairs, more long-term savings. Less space, more togetherness.

Always and forever embracing less in order to experience so much more.

Master your mornings.

Three babies (four pregnancies) in four years had me savoring my post-kids’-bedtime time with Netflix and chill and then rolling out of bed when the kids woke me up bright and early the next morning. That was my morning routine for the first five years of motherhood. Until I got a little fed up with running on empty all the time—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

So when my youngest began sleeping through the night, I forced myself to start getting up early to have a prayer time and morning workout before the kids woke up. This was both the hardest and most rewarding habit I could have developed for myself.

It’s changed over the years since, but I’ve learned the all-too-important lesson that if you want to have a good day, it starts by mastering your mornings. Starting the day in a way that fills me up not only improves my mood for the rest of the day, but it also leads to other good decisions and makes me more effective overall.

This isn’t a one-size-fits-all habit, but I thought I would share what my mornings look like in this current season to help get the ideas flowing of what might work for you if you’re looking to be more intentional with your mornings. I work from home and homeschool our three children, so although we don’t have to be out the door at any specific time, I still wake up between 4 and 5 a.m. to have plenty of time to myself before the kids wake up around 7:30. It’s been such a special time of day for me that I aim to do it every morning; however, I may sleep in every now and then, especially if I didn’t sleep well the night before (sleep is hard sometimes). I can tell my day feels different if I miss my morning routine, so it’s become a priority for me to “get my head on straight” every morning. Here’s how I do it:

1. Wake up around 4 a.m.

2. Drink full bottle of water.

3. Make a French press of coffee to share with the Mr.

4. Spend time in worship, prayer, and Scripture reading—honestly, the bulk of my time is spent here. I often light a candle, sing, pray, spend time in silence, and slow-read my Bible.

5. Write morning pages—this is a mashup of journaling, stream of consciousness, and creative writing prompts; basically, I get whatever is swirling around in my head out on paper so I can be more focused and clear-minded throughout the day.

6. Go for a neighborhood run/walk and/or lift weights indoors; sometimes I do yoga instead.

7. Often I’ll spend a few minutes completing a Spanish lesson.

8. Get dressed and make up bed.

By the time my kids are awake, I feel refreshed, focused, and clear-headed, and it’s such a gift to start the day off in peace.

If you’d like to start a more productive morning routine but aren’t sure how, may I suggest setting the alarm for 30 minutes earlier than usual and start the day off with a big glass of water and some stretching? That is what I come back to, if ever I get off track. After that becomes a habit, try waking up an additional 15 minutes earlier and adding in something else. You don’t have to do a complete overhaul all at once, but even taking one positive step toward mastering your morning and starting the day off in the right frame of mind will go a long way toward improving your mental, physical, and emotional (and spiritual) health!

The importance of white space.

When I was working as an art director for an advertising agency, we talked a lot about white space (or negative space, as some refer to it). So much so that the copywriters used to make fun of us because of how obsessed we all were with protecting our white space; often times we’d ask them to cut down the copy so that the ads didn’t feel crammed and there was plenty of space for the ad to breathe. Oftentimes, the simpler ads, the ones with less “stuff” in them, were the most eye-catching and effective.

It’s normal for an amateur designer to want to fill up an ad with lots of design elements as a way to prove how creative they can be. Photo collages, or worse—a photo ghosted into the background—drop shadows, flourishes in the corners…One graphic designer that I supervised always wanted to add ALL the Photoshop features: feathered photos, multi-colored gradients, multiple graphics. His ads looked like an acid trip on paper. I’d spend a lot of time crossing out all the extra elements to be eliminated so the most important ones could “be the hero,” as the head of our department would say. The most important info got surrounded by white space so it would stand out. All the extras were just a distraction from the point of the ad, and they had to go.

It took me years to understand that this lesson was applicable in life as well. We innocently (and ignorantly) assume that the more we have—the more we fill our schedules, our fridges, our closets, our garages with—the more successful and put together we seem.

We cram our schedules with more things than could possibly get done because saying, “I’m just sooo busy,” makes us sound important.

We collect clothing items and accessories to crowd our closets because we feel that more is more—more options, sleeker designs, designer labels will…well, I'm not sure what.

We don’t want our homes to feel empty, so we add photos and art to every piece of real estate on our walls, fill up blank spots with side tables and shelves that need to be “styled,” requiring more things to create more vignettes. And all these things will somehow communicate that we have impeccable style. We say that adding layers adds interest. (Because what, we aren’t interesting enough??)

And so we find that we have no white space. There’s no more room. Our lives can’t breathe. And we may feel like we can’t, either.

Negative space is as important in life as it is in design, because it equals more margin, more breathing room. Negative space lends time to rest, time to think and process all the emotions and thoughts that get stuffed down further into our psyche, with to-dos and get-togethers heaped on top.

There’s a reason God commands that we take a Sabbath, one day out of our week to do nothing, a day filled with negative space. Why? Because that blank slate is restorative. It returns breath to our lungs and humanity to our existence. Negative space is anything but negative.

Each of us has more white space than we think. Every time we swerve into the faster lane of traffic or check our phone at the red light or answer emails in the waiting room or Netflix and chill before bed, we’re snuffing out negative space, that precious time to just be. And with every moment that gets filled with distraction, the things that are most important lose their elbow room. We fill up on chips and leave no room for the filet.

I’ve heard so many people say that COVID gave them the time to pause and re-evaluate their lives. A lot of people realized some things they needed to leave in 2020; others started new careers or traded large homes for more family time in smaller ones. Still other families made changes to live more simply, exchanging endless activities for more down time together.

What would it feel like, the next time you have an hour of free time, if you just savored it rather than giving it away to the next demand waiting in line? Look around and take in your surroundings slowly, or take some time to ponder three things you’re thankful for in that moment? What if, instead of saying yes to another activity your child asks you to sign them up for, if you opted for slow family dinners a couple of nights a week instead? What if you embraced an extra hour of sleep instead of another episode of Downton Abbey with a side of Talenti?

Oftentimes, we can become so busy that we lose sight of our values. Maintaining some margin allows us to name what’s most important to us in life. The reality is, if everything is important, then nothing is important. If everything is precious, then by default, nothing is precious. That which is sacred to us should be set apart, bordered by white space.

One thing that has helped me is to keep an actual, physical planner with me. (Kudos to you who can plan effectively with your digital iCals; those make my head spin!) And I schedule out my day in order of priority: first, prayer time and self-care (I have to put on my oxygen mask before I can save others); then, family time; then work tasks, meal planning, chores, etc. I make sure that I have plenty of transition time in between so I’m not rushing from one meeting to the next meal prep. I schedule in margin as another item on my to-do list, so that it doesn’t get crowded out. Sometimes I plan ahead what I will do in my free time so that I choose something restorative, but other times I just let those times unfold naturally.

The concept of white space creates more breathing room in our lives and forces us to name what is most important and let that be the hero. Everything else must take a supporting role or get cut from the script altogether.

What about you? How about keeping a minutes log of your week to track where your time goes. Then, assess and decide one small change you could make right away. Maybe you track your phone usage and find you spend 6+ hours a day with screen time. That’s 42 hours a week! Was that time restorative or wasteful? What could you choose to do instead?

What is the hero of your life? Take a few minutes to sit with that question as a writing prompt. Jot down three things that bring you the most joy and fulfillment. If money were no object, how would you spend your time? Who are the people in your life that build you up? What activity restores your soul? Use the answers to those questions as a jumping off point to decide what other things could be eliminated to create some more white space around what’s most important.

Cheers!

Court

Welcome to my place.

It kind of thrills me to be uncomfortable. I actually begin to feel uneasy when things appear to be coming easily. Maybe the discomfort is what keeps me hungry for more of the things of God in my life, and when I feel like I’m coasting, I am less aware of my need for more of Jesus, and I stop pursuing Him daily.

I think that’s what it’s like with a lot of relationships, right? When we begin a relationship, we put in a lot of energy and effort into pursuing the other person so that we cultivate a strong foundation. But then after the vows are exchanged, and we feel secure in that relationship, we start to ease up a bit. Over time, that easing up can look a lot like complacency, and complacency is a breeding ground for stagnation, which can lead to certain death—death of momentum, of dreams, of intimacy…

You get what I’m saying. Anyhoo, this seeking to move beyond my comfort zone is what catapulted our family into a life of simplicity, essentialism, and intentionality. It’s forced us to come into realignment with our values and return to majoring in the majors and minoring in the minors. We embraced the discomfort we felt when our schedules and home were stuffed full and decided to take action and simplify our lifestyle. As a result, it’s brought a level of peace and a depth of maturity that we just couldn’t have attained any other way. 

I’ve met a lot of you out there who’ve become uncomfortable with your comfort. You’ve done nicely keeping up with the Joneses, but the accomplishments and abundance haven’t satified you like you thought it would. Those of you who are dizzy from running the hamster wheel in a steady pace but just can’t figure out a dismount strategy. Those of you who have it all, along with a splitting headache and an emptiness in your gut. This website is for you. Every word I write here is with you in mind.

Our simple lifestyle is probably what I get asked THE MOST questions about. Most people are intrigued, some are resistant, but a lot of people long for at least a piece of the peace that we’ve experienced, and so I aim to share our journey—the catalysts, the struggles, the blessing of margin, and everything in between—in hopes of inspiring you and introducing you to the possibility of a new way of life, one in which you can have peace in heart and home, time for rest and renewal, memories with the ones you love, and just the overall sense of purpose that comes from a life lived with and on purpose.

I don’t get it all right, all the time. I’m still learning and have in no way arrived at a life of minimalism or über discipline. But every day is a day in which I intentionally take a step in the right direction, and I’d love for you to walk alongside me!