I own things. Things I love. Things I’ve collected while traveling. Art. Books. Furniture with history. Things that are useful and a few things that probably aren’t particularly useful at all.

I don’t believe a meaningful home has to contain the fewest possible things. And despite working professionally with people who want less clutter in their lives, I’m not particularly interested in turning anyone into a minimalist.

I’m interested in something else.

Less isn’t automatically better

Minimalism has given us some useful ideas: pay attention to what you own, question unnecessary consumption, create breathing room, and be intentional about what gets your money, space and attention.

I agree with all of that. Where I begin to part company is when less becomes the measure of success.

The goal isn’t the fewest dishes, the smallest wardrobe or the emptiest countertop. The goal is a home that works for the people living in it.

For one person, that may look quite spare. For another, it might include shelves of books, a collection brought home from years of travel, a kitchen equipped for feeding twenty people or an entire room devoted to a hobby.

The number isn’t the point.

Editing is different from eliminating

This distinction became important enough that it eventually found its way into our name.

An editor doesn’t remove words simply to make a manuscript shorter. An editor pays attention.

What belongs? What is getting in the way? What deserves more prominence? What is repeating something already said? And what would be lost if we removed it?

I think we can ask the same questions of our homes.

Sometimes the answer is to let something go. Sometimes it’s to organize it better. Sometimes it’s to move it somewhere else. And sometimes the answer is: No. I love this. It stays.

That’s still editing.

Your home gets to be personal

There is no universal number of coffee mugs you’re allowed to own. If you drink coffee alone every morning and never entertain, perhaps two mugs are plenty. If Sunday morning routinely finds twelve people around your table, two mugs would be ridiculous.

A system only works in relationship to the life it’s supposed to support. That’s why I become wary of organizing rules that begin with numbers.

Keep twenty pieces. Get rid of anything you haven’t used in a year. Own one of each thing. Those rules can help someone make a decision, but they can’t make the decision for them.

Your life provides the context.

Keep enough

Perhaps this is where I’ve landed instead.

Not less. Enough.

Enough clothing for the way you actually dress. Enough kitchenware for the way you actually cook and gather. Enough furniture to make the room useful and comfortable. Enough art and collected things to make the house feel intimate. Enough open space to let all of it breathe.

“Enough” doesn’t look the same in every home. It shouldn’t.

The Edited Home

Maybe that’s the misconception I most want to clear up.

Editing a home isn’t about stripping away personality in pursuit of some ideal version of simplicity. It’s almost the opposite.

We remove what obscures. We organize what remains. We reconsider what isn’t working. We make room for what deserves to be noticed.

And somewhere in that process, the home becomes easier to see.

Not a minimalist home.

Yours.