Empty-nesting.  Down-sizing.  Escape to the country.  How to manage a life transition by travelling light with Feng Shui.

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Empty nesting

There are tears streaming down my cheeks as I dismantle the bed my daughter has slept in for the past 20 years for the Man with the Van who will be here any minute.

My child is now fully grown and left the nest – and Mum is left to mop up.  The parental responsibility has lifted from my shoulders but, at the same time, I’m feeling the loss of being a Mum.  I’m letting go of our home too and noticing an emptiness inside me even before I’ve moved out.

One thing that’s helping me enormously is the Feng Shui and decluttering task I embarked upon to manage this transition.  Any residual doubts or fears about this move are quickly subsumed by releasing what I no longer need and the promise of whatever form the next stage of my life will take.

Stepping on it

It was less than a week ago I met the quiet voice within as I diligently journaled my Morning Pages.  “It’s time to give up the house, Mary,” my intuition told me.  Rather than protesting: “I can’t do that.  I’ll never find another home to match this in terms of location and price”. I received this intuitive information quite calmly and that surprised me.  A sure sign this was exactly the right thing for me to do.  My inner critic still wanted to chip in and have its say by wanting to keep me safe within the tramlines of the known and not take an unprecedented detour.  So I gently keep my inner critic in check and remind myself everything will work out fine. It always does when my intuition has stepped in to take the lead.

I was being pressed to get a move on … so I did.  I instructed the Agent immediately to put the house on the market.   And I began going through cupboards in preparation for the move I now believed would be imminent.  Also I know that having a clear intention to act will cause things to happen quicker and with less effort on my part.  Indeed it was so.  The agent found a new taker immediately and informs me I have less than three weeks in which to make my exodus.

Decluttering with a passion

I move like a bat out of hell through the apartment.  Not a single piece of paper is to escape my attention, even with the tight deadline.  I intend to steal this moment to take stock of my entirety and only take with me what I need to recreate myself anew.

“Do I really need this or can it go?” I ask myself as I systematically release and recycle everything I can, rather than drag it with me because I can’t be arsed to sort it out now.  Laziness and lethargy will hold me back and prejudice me from seeing clearly where my good fortunes lie next.  Concerted action is what’s required now.

As a Feng Shui professional I witness too often how peoples’ lives are clogged up with belongings they don’t need anymore – storing them in the attic where they hang heavily over them while they’re asleep, or creating constipation in the bowels of their basement or garage.  Worst of all, ignoring their responsibility entirely, leaving the time-consuming task of dealing with this stuff to their benefactors who won’t thank them for it.  Anyone who’s been in this position will know what I mean.

 I’m a big advocate of the Scandi lifestyle trend – Swedish Death Cleaning.  Don’t be put off by the name.  It’s a practical and wise discipline for anyone who’s inclined to hoard.  Decluttering with a twist, encourages you to complete with your life as you live it and not allow a mountain of nothingness to accumulate when by imposing a twice-year discipline could take care of it.

A stint at housesitting

The next question to address is where am I going to live?  It may sound counter-intuitive to have let go of my apartment before having the answer but I’m not fazed by this.  I want to take my time to decide where live next and not rush into it.  To consider my options in a way I couldn’t while keeping house and running a business on my own.  It’s often the case we need to let go of the shore and set sail before the promised land comes into view.  It could be days or it could be months before I knew. Rather than reach a hasty decision I’m prepared to wait and enjoy the journey.

For sure I’d loved living in South Buckinghamshire along the Thames, with plenty of clients and good friends around me.  At the same time I yearned for a more rural lifestyle with fewer cars and less bustle.  I’d recently discovered the hidden delights of Oxford but living in the city itself didn’t appeal.  Maybe a nearby village would suit me better?  But where to start looking?  I didn’t have a single lead to go on.

Not for long though …. because the very same day I put the apartment on the market, a good friend called me.  “I’ve let go of my flat” I tell her.

“Where are you going to live?” she says.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“Well then why don’t you look after my house and the cat while I’m in Australia for three months?”  Why not I thought.

Later the very same day, another friend called me.  She owns a house-sitting company and wonders if I’d be interested in two consecutive housesits – in South Oxfordshire.  I’m at a loss for words.  On the same day I’d closed one door, three more had opened.  Now I had accommodation for the next 6 months in the county I was most curious about.  That’s what I call synchronicity.

The exodus from my flat proceeded like clockwork. The day I debunked to my friend’s, my daughter exchanged on her flat. When the Man with the Van appeared for her bed, he deposited my stuff into storage and took hers to London. Two birds with one stone. I couldn’t have planned it better – and I hadn’t.

Downsizing still further

Settled into my cat-sitting role after leaving my flat I have cause to visit the storage unit.  The doors slide open and reveal my belongings piled high.

I’m immediately hit with the thought:  “Why?  I get that the storage unit is to be a stepping stone and provide me with security for the future but it’s costing me money, for an indefinite period.  Besides I don’t know whether my next home will suit the modern furniture I have.”  And with that higher perspective that the passage of time brings, I went online and sold off the lot.

Eight boxes of personal effects remained and umpteen boxes of vision board teaching materials.  I split them between the garages of two friends.  My clothes and my office travelled with me, fitting snuggly into my car.  Then I let the storage unit go …

Another wise decision that was.  Six months later, after the three housesits, Covid struck.  My next housesit, fell through and the house-sitting market collapsed.  Now what?

Escape to the country

Out of the blue a sick friend invited me stay and shield her through the pandemic.  One year later, I am still living there in a delightful village in Oxfordshire, this time on the edge of the Cotswolds.  I’m not fretting over my belongings stored in another county that I can’t do anything about except fork out a monthly rental.  They are all gone.

And none of it – the house-sitting, living in Oxfordshire, selling off all my belongings, or Covid – did I envisaged while dismantling my daughter’s bed.  Yet the tears shed in the process, along with decluttering, had helped me to close a chapter of my old life and start a new one.  I’d been willing to listen to my intuition and act on the promptings through good Feng Shui practice.

Believing as I do in a friendly universe that always has our back, I have faith that our intuitive ability will lead us to where we need to go next, if we don’t talk ourselves out of it.


Mary Nondé