Life sure is interesting when you let it unfold without trying to control every aspect of it.
August was such a blur. So much happened and unfolded that if you asked me to pinpoint one thing that made the month what it was, I’d probably draw a blank. There wasn’t one big thing. There were so many little things that somehow led to other things, which led to bigger things, and looking back at all of it now, I’m mostly just sitting here in awe of how it all came together.
I guess one of the biggest things was getting really clear, yet again, about what I want and where I want to put my focus. Apparently, clarity is not a one-and-done kind of thing. You don’t figure out what matters to you once, write it on a Post-it note, slap it on the wall, and call it good for the next twenty years. Life changes. We change. What once fit beautifully sometimes starts pinching in weird places, and every once in a while you have to stop long enough to notice.
For me, that meant looking at some of the things I was still carrying.
I tend to hold onto things because I’m hopeful. I can almost always see how something could work. Maybe it just needs a little more time. Maybe something will shift. Maybe the right person will come along. Maybe I haven’t tried the right thing yet. And sometimes that hope has served me incredibly well.
Sometimes, however, it means I’m still dragging stuff around long after it stopped serving any useful purpose.
Eventually, I started asking myself a few very simple questions. How would I feel if this were no longer on my plate? If somehow it were all gone tomorrow for whatever reason, what would I do? Would I immediately try to get it back... or would I feel relieved? And probably the most important question of all: Is this really adding to my happiness? Does it still bring me joy?
Turns out, some of it did once.
It just didn’t anymore.
That realization made letting go surprisingly easy. I didn’t have to decide that something had been a mistake or that it had failed. I didn’t have to justify the time, money, energy, or hope I had already put into it. It had served a purpose until it didn’t, and that was enough.
So I started cutting sling-load.
Somewhere in that process, I also created my own little Shiny-Shit Filter, because apparently simply saying “Sabine, you cannot do ALL THE THINGS” has never been particularly effective.
The Shiny-Shit Filter consists of three questions. Three yeses or it’s a no. Simple as that. Because I know how my brain works. Something interesting wanders past and before anyone has had a chance to ask whether this is actually a good idea, my brain has already bought the domain, imagined the possibilities, and wandered three exits down the highway to see where this thing could go.
Shiny shit is shiny for a reason.
What surprised me most about all this clearing, though, was what happened afterward. I didn’t replace the things I let go with a bunch of new things. Quite the opposite. Once some of the noise disappeared, I had more room for what was already there.
Writing. Happiness Matters Foundation. Hope in Motion. The work and ideas that make me lose track of time because I’m so happily buried in them that apparently eating becomes optional.
Nothing new had to come in.
There was finally more room for what was already trying to grow.
And that seemed to become the theme of August. One thing led to another. Something shifted over here and suddenly something over there made more sense. I stopped trying quite so hard to figure out exactly where everything was going and started paying more attention to what was actually unfolding in front of me.
Then August 31 rolled around.
I had finished what I planned to do in the office, shut down my computer, and made my way toward the kitchen because my stomach had apparently been trying to inform me for quite some time that humans require nourishment.
I grabbed a banana.
And the doorbell rang.
I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I immediately assumed it was a door-to-door salesperson. Normally, that would have been the end of the story because I usually just ignore them. I was done working, I had a banana, and whatever somebody was selling on the other side of my front door could probably continue existing without my participation.
Except something nudged me to answer it.
I have learned over the years that when one of those little nudges shows up, it’s usually worth at least paying attention.
So I opened the door.
And yup. Salesman.
He was incredibly friendly, though, and not pushy at all. Somehow we ended up talking first about the netting I have across my entryway to keep the birds out, because apparently that was where this particular sales conversation needed to begin. Eventually we got around to what he was actually there selling, and that’s when things got interesting.
I had already been thinking about looking into exactly what he was offering.
So I let him talk.
Then I started asking questions. Lots of questions. Because if I’m going to make a decision about something, I want to understand what I’m getting myself into. He patiently answered them, we went through everything, I ran the numbers, and somewhere in the middle of what should have been an ordinary Monday afternoon interruption, I realized this actually made sense.
Long story short, I signed up.
We consolidated services with one company, got new phones, super-fast internet and television service, and when everything was added up, we are going to save about $170 a month.
$170 a month!!!
All because I opened the darn door.
That part still makes me laugh because there was nothing dramatic about any of it. I was standing in my kitchen with a banana when the doorbell rang. I almost ignored it. Had I ignored it, nothing bad would have happened. I would have eaten my banana, gone about the rest of my day, and never known there had been another possibility standing on the other side of my front door.
Maybe that’s why the whole thing felt like such a fitting end to August.
I had spent much of the month clearing away things that no longer felt right, trusting that I didn’t need to immediately know what would fill the space they left behind. And then, on the very last day of the month, life quite literally rang my doorbell.
I’m still laughing about that.
I thought August had already done plenty, but apparently September looked over, cracked its knuckles, and said, “That’s cute. Hold my beer.”
It’s September 3.
So far... WOW.
I have absolutely no idea what the rest of this month has in store for me.
But I think I’ll keep answering the door.
What About You?
What are you still carrying simply because you’ve been carrying it for so long?
Maybe it’s something that once made you incredibly happy. Maybe it was exactly what you needed at one point in your life. Maybe you’ve invested so much time, energy, money, or hope into it that letting it go feels somehow wrong.
But what if you asked yourself a different question?
How would I feel if this were no longer on my plate?
Pay attention to the answer. Especially if the first thing you feel is relief.
Letting go doesn’t erase what something once meant to you. It doesn’t make the time you spent on it wasted, and it certainly doesn’t mean you failed. Sometimes something has simply finished being part of your story.
And you may not need to know what comes next.
Maybe you just need to make a little room and see what happens.
You never know what might be waiting on the other side of the door.
If you enjoy these little adventures from the wild — the messy middles, unexpected detours, accessibility adventures, perspective shifts, bananas, doorbells, and all the other things life apparently forgot to put in the manual — subscribe to Notes from the Wild so you never miss one.
And if this story made you think of something you’re ready to put down, I’d love to hear about it.
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