Beyond the "Bare Necessities", Part 4

my top five survival pack must-haves for living in the chasm

You may remember that I began this series last summer shortly after I started this Substack, and had to put it on pause while we sorted out some hidden mental health issues that were unexpectedly uncovered. I wouldn’t say that these thoughts have changed much in light of recent developments in our family - if anything, it makes them so much more valuable. But I took a pause on this series to make sure that what I felt then, is how I felt once I was a little further out from the shock. I’m finally ready to send this out and hope reading these points is as helpful to you as much as pondering them has been for me.

[There is a significant preview for free subscribers, because I think a lot of this is important to share with anyone who might find it useful, but I share an extremely personal situation (and sort of a family update) in the final point, and feel safest keeping it behind the paywall for now.]

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We have arrived at the last part of these musings on the “bare necessities”. I’m guessing there will be a reprise a bit down the road after more healing has taken place, and I look forward to that. But for now, I want to end with sharing with you all the top bare necessity survival pack “must-haves” for living life in “the chasm”.

What is “the chasm”, you may ask? The chasm is the place we find ourselves when we aren’t actively grief-stricken or actively experiencing trauma, but are still “in the wilderness”, if you will. The chasm is the place where we sort out our grief, reevaluate what is important, and figure out the best strategy for getting out. The chasm is the place where we learn to breathe again and regain our strength to face whatever is next. And I’m beginning to think that maybe the chasm is where we can learn to thrive, too (having the right tools at our disposal helps a lot).

That said, here are my top five current “bare necessity” survival kit must-haves for my personal pack. These are in no particular order, as each are of equal importance during this leg of the journey.

1. Less is more

2. Embracing slow living

3. If it isn’t an easy yes, it’s a no

4. Seek out goodness, even in uncertainty

5. Self-care at all costs

Let’s dive in.

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1) Less is More

“Less is more” is true, and also not. In part 3 I promised to pick up with this thought in the final part of this series, and here we are!

When minimalists say this, they are meaning that having less material items means managing less, which means more time to do the things that bring you joy. This is true and lovely. But there’s a catch that no one talks about: it also means that since you have less stuff to manage, you have more time to explore your thoughts and process previously pushed aside trauma. While definitely not a bad thing (especially under the right circumstances), when trauma is sitting just under the surface, it makes a new lifestyle shift challenging to navigate. It means that emotions can be easily heightened, anxiety elevated, and it leaves room for confusion to abound. It makes healing crucial if success is to be had.

A grinding, job-centric lifestyle tends to leave very little room for working through anything that isn’t an “immediate need”. From experience, it is suuuuper easy to think that if you can function through your days, then you are fine. But, wow, I could not have been more wrong.

Before my father-in-law’s incarceration, neither my husband nor I realized the depth of childhood trauma we were both carrying. There was also so much we didn’t know about how the body processes trauma, or what the brain does when it’s experiencing trauma (read The Body Keeps The Score if you haven’t yet!).

All hell broke loose inside mine and my husband’s beings on the day of the sentencing. We found ourselves in a domino effect of awful things happening one after the other (some minor, some huge), and we were in perpetual survival mode. With both of us working our regular jobs on top of homeschooling and other commitments, we really didn’t have any time to process anything well. In hindsight, we shoved a lot down and kept going. We had to. And although we did have a therapist, she was there to help with damage control of the immediate trauma, not necessarily to help process childhood trauma.

Had we known then what we know now, we would have approached our major lifestyle shift differently. But in classic trauma-induced-decision-making form, we acted on what we thought would help us get rid of our sorrow, and we took a leap of faith.

bumpy. bumpy. bumpy.

We’ve nearly fallen apart several times, and it wasn’t until we started addressing our individual traumas that things began to make sense on why certain things have been a struggle. Having less really does mean more time for all the good things in life, and it also means more time for healing (something I wanted in theory, I just didn’t expect how challenging it would be).

Less is more, and it’s not for the faint of heart. A simpler lifestyle is beautiful in so many ways, and it can be brutally bumpy. But I want to be clear: changing our lifestyle was always worth it— I have never regretted selling our house and moving out of Atlanta, (though I have regretted many decisions since).

We aren’t living in our bus right now, and I’m not sure if we will again. But the lessons I learned while living in a tiny space are ones I hope I carry with me forever. Specifically the lessons on leaving enough room in my daily life for more healing, more gentleness, more compassion, more understanding, more slowness, and more love.

2) Embracing Slow Living

I was experiencing burnout big time just before we sold our house a few years ago. Unintentionally, but with an appreciative heart, I adopted slow mornings as a standard once we moved into our bus. I chose not to commit to anything regularly before noon, and even now, I only do so occasionally. I need slowness just like I need oxygen to breathe.

This doesn’t mean I’m lazy. This means I’m intentional. It means I know myself and my needs.

Bodies need so much rest when healing from burnout and lifelong trauma. Setting boundaries on how I spend my time has been a life-saver.

3) If it Isn’t an Easy Yes, it’s a No

A few years ago, we decided to take a different approach to decision making with this motto as the foundation. If something felt or seemed off, we wouldn’t pursue it further. If something was overwhelming in the moment, we would stop and re-evaluate its importance.

We also began paying more attention to how our physical bodies were responding to situations. We haven’t perfected this way of decision making by any means, but we have learned a lot through being more aware of how we feel about situations, people, places, etc. in our bodies. After having lived through years of invalidating thoughts and advice that used logic over “gut feelings”, once we started giving ourselves permission to examine how we felt at our core about something, we began to have a more lenient mindset around personal performance, image, familial obligations, church, other people’s expectations, etc.

Some decisions are just tricky and we by no means have gotten this right 100% of the time (as stated, I have many regrets on decisions we’ve made in recent years), but the more we practice, the better we get at saying yes only to the things that feel the most right.

Easy yeses don’t mean never challenging ourselves, though. I’m talking about the need to simplify the decisions that sometimes seem too complicated for some inexplicable reason— those decisions would be a “no”, at least for now. If it’s not something requiring an immediate decision, it can keep. If it’s almost right but not quite, it’s a no.

Sleep on things for as long as it takes. No more unnecessary settling for “fine enough”.

4) Seek Out Goodness, Even in Uncertainty

I’ve been hung up on this point for a while, because it’s a feeling more than it is a paragraph. It’s a gut-guided feeling that goodness is around the corner, even if you’re unsure. It’s accepting that even though the world may be imploding, you are still worthy of love and kindness… and then to allow love and kindness in.

It’s showing up to a room full of people you’ve never met in the hopes you’ll meet some safe ones. It’s “if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” It’s confiding in people. It’s taking risks, not against your better judgement, but in confidence that you know yourself and what you are capable of. It’s having urgent conviction, but also steadfast patience, because both of these are good. It’s accepting that we are mere particles of dust formed together to experience a fleeting life, but also that things matter (no pun intended!).

Seeking out goodness can look like a routine trip to the library, or doing something again for the first time in a long time (like hiking or riding a bike or jumping on a trampoline), even when you don’t really feel like it. It can also look like taking time to reflect and process. And dare I say it, seeking goodness also means working through the hard stuff in order to get to the stuff worth living for.

We can’t find genuine lasting goodness if we aren’t willing to fight for it. Sometimes it takes a lot of practice and a lot of…

5) Self-Care (at all costs).