The Gift of Downsizing
The surprising pleasures of smaller living - more of what matters
This letter is part of Design Dispatches, design-forward essays exploring how spaces (both indoors and out) are shaped, why design choices matter, and how the built environment influences the way we live. You can easily adjust your email preferences anytime to skip this section and still receive all the other stories, reflections, and design inspiration from The Whiskey Porch.
Hello my dear readers.
Welcome to the porch.
This letter is the fourth and final in a short series exploring smaller living - from the original invitation, to the idea of right-sizing, to the intentional choice itself.
And today, I’ll share the surprising gifts that begin to appear on the other side of that decision.
Before we jump in, a quick reminder:
I opened a special Spring Porch Invitation that ends tonight at midnight, along with a limited release of original glass and wood artwork from the art studio.
On the surface, downsizing might feel like loss
Most people approach the idea of downsizing through the language of subtraction:
less house
less storage
fewer rooms
less status
less “proof”
I get it. It can feel like giving up so much. Especially if your identity has been tied to that very American idea of ‘success’ or ‘permanence’.
I recently shared my experience with that process in my post When Success Stops Feeling Like Success. It was tough to walk away from so much - at first.
And the only alternative to the big life I was leading, at the time, was the tiny-house craze. It was cute. And very romantic. But that type of extreme was not any more sustainable than where I already was, in my view.
Then you start to realize what you’ve gained
After settling into a smaller space and making it your own, you begin to see that what you have gained is not less. It’s more. More space of a different kind.
more time
more energy
more financial breathing room
more ease in maintenance
more clarity
more freedom to travel
more capacity for beauty
more presence
less stuff to manage
less work
less space holding unresolved accumulation
more possibility
more connection to the outside
Home becomes a participant, not a project
Don’t get me wrong. Any random old smaller home may not be the answer. It needs to be well designed and function thoughtfully in a way that fits with your life and your needs.
If you can find that, or make the adjustments to achieve that, then the house stops being something you serve. And it begins to serve your life.
We may not have a garage here at Juniper Hill Cottage, a 1924 craftsman bungalow. But we also don’t have a garage that collects boxes, and junk, and miscellaneous stuff we don’t need. We make it work quite easily by other creative solutions, one of which of course is holding onto less stuff.
We may not have guest rooms waiting for occasional guests with large beds, and empty closets. But we are able to convert various spaces on the property to host visiting children and guests - and we also have many nearby historic inns and boutique hotels to put up our guests in if needed. And I don’t have to clean or heat and cool those extra rooms for 90% of the year.
We may not have a formal dining room or even a sit-in kitchen. But what we do have is a gorgeous dining room that functions as an everyday gathering space and is only steps from the kitchen. And we have open and covered porches around the house that function as extended entertaining spaces that connect us to our land and gardens.
This house and property feels lived with, not managed.
Maintenance no longer dominates my weekends.
Every space in this home has access to windows and views and sunlight and fresh air.
This home holds the possibility of aging in place comfortably and that provides a huge sense of contentment and peace. A different kind of permanence. And an easeful future.
Choosing enough is a design decision and an identity shift
Enough is not accidental.
It’s a lifestyle and identity decision that requires intention and honesty. It may require courage. And strength to choose before life chooses for you.
And it requires trusting that beauty, comfort and a life well lived does not depend on large or more spaces.
So, my challenge to you is that instead of asking:
“Should I downsize”?
Maybe the question should really be:
“What would become possible if home asked less of me, and gave more back?”
Or, “What would change if enough become the goal instead of more?”
ICYMI - the first three segments:
With contentment & possibility,
P.S. So friends, tell me what you think? Is living a smaller, simpler, more beautiful life something that you ponder occasionally? Is it just a nice idea but something you resist, or can’t process? Are there specific things that hold you back or a timeline you’re on? Or - have you already made the shift and have good or bad experiences? As ever, I’d love to hear your comments!
Miriam, does your advice depend—at least in part—on a person’s age or life stage? For someone like me, with kids of my own, plus siblings and in-laws who have families, I tend to need more space to accommodate everyone. My kids also host friends for sleepovers, and we have a lot of gatherings, so the house gets used in that way pretty regularly.
At the same time, I’ve been thinking more about space and what it signals about status—especially after recently visiting an acquaintance’s home that’s nearly a 35,000 sq ft (yes, I said 35,000) mansion. That contrast has me reflecting a bit.
Miriam, I've never had a big place to take care of as it's been mostly condo and apartments with the occasional townhome or small house.
As I've shared I'm looking to move by year-end and while I'll be looking to hopefully be detached again, I agree with the idea of just enough space and like you said, I absolutely don't want a project!