{"product_id":"soulful-simplicity-isbn-9780143130680","title":"Soulful Simplicity","description":"\u003cb\u003eCourtney Carver shows us the power of simplicity to improve our health,  build more meaningful relationships, and relieve stress in our  professional and personal lives.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe are often on a quest for more—we give in to pressure every day to  work more, own more, and do more. For Carver, this constant striving had  to come to a stop when she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS).  Stress was like gasoline on the fire of symptoms, and it became clear  that she needed to root out the physical and psychological clutter that  were the source of her debt and discontent. \u003cbr\u003e     In this book, she  shows us how to pursue practical minimalism so we can create more with  less—more space, more time, and even more love. Carver invites us to  look at the big picture, discover what's most important to us, and  reclaim lightness and ease by getting rid of all the excess things.\"There's an age-old fallacy that more stuff equals more happiness. Research and Carver's beautiful new book lead us to the truth: happiness, joy, and love can very much derive from a whole lot less.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eShawn Achor, happiness researcher, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Happiness Advantage\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Soulful Simplicity encourages conscious minimalism from the inside out. It's a heartfelt yet practical guide for making life simple again. Courtney's story is relatable in so many ways — she lets you walk in her shoes so you can see the mental and physical steps she took to escape a stressful life that literally almost killed her. This book has made me laugh, smile, and take action towards living a life uncluttered by most of the needless things people fill their lives with, leaving me with space for what truly matters. A life that isn’t constant busyness, rushing, and stress, but instead contemplation, creation, and connection with people and projects I love.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Angel Chernoff, Author and Coach, Marc and Angel Hack Life\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Courtney Carver reminds us that simplicity isn't just about being organized, it's about getting back to love. With simple genius, Marie Kondo taught us how to declutter our homes, now it's time to let Courtney Carver take us to a deeper place. To refine our lives, and reconnect with what matters most.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Jonathan Fields, author of \u003ci\u003eHow to Live a Good Life\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eUncertainty: Turning Fear and Doubt into Fuel for Brilliance\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"Courtney Carver’s new book \u003ci\u003eSoulful Simplicity\u003c\/i\u003e is a practical roadmap for embracing the beauty of less and making room in our lives for what matters most.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eAli Edwards, Craft the story.™\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"In a world where so much of the messaging around radical simplicity is just about living with less stuff, \u003ci\u003eSoulful Simplicity\u003c\/i\u003e prescribes a lifestyle filled with a lot more of one thing: love. What our heart needs is a huge part of the equation, and Courtney teaches us how to make sure we're listening to it.\" \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eCait Flanders, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Year of Less\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"A gentle, compassionate guide to making more space in your home, more time in your day, and more love in your heart. Courtney’s personal story provides powerful inspiration to live a simpler, more intentional life.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Francine Jay, missminimalist.com\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Courtney Carver understands that simplifying involves more than decluttering—it’s about habits, appreciation, discipline, and love.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eJoshua Fields Millburn, theminimalists.com\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"Courtney Carver’s book is vulnerable and helpful. Courtney shows us that living simply goes beyond decluttering your closets and junk drawers. She gently illustrates that simplicity is the way back to connection, peace, good health, and love.\"\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003eTammy Strobel, RowdyKittens.com \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"Soulful Simplicity is the kind of book you keep on your kitchen table so you can dip in when you have five minutes to yourself. I love how Courtney inspires the reader with her own story and then holds your hand through the process of making real change — the kind of changes you \u003ci\u003ewant\u003c\/i\u003e to make. There are so many gems in this book!\"\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e —Susannah Conway, author of \u003ci\u003eThis I Know: Notes on Unraveling the Heart\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"With humility, honesty and authenticity, Courtney Carver invites each of us to find greater simplicity in life–and provides a practical roadmap for us to find it in our own unique way.\"\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e—Joshua Becker, Founder of Becoming Minimalist and Author of \u003ci\u003eThe More of Less.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If organizing your stuff worked, you'd be organized by now. Get this book for its strategic \"how\"s, and even more powerful \"why\"s. \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e — Derek Sivers, sivers.org\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eCourtney Carver \u003c\/b\u003elaunched her blog \"Be More with Less\" in 2010 and is one  of the top bloggers in the world on the subject of minimalism. She has  been featured in countless articles, podcasts, and interviews on  simplicity, and is the creator of the minimalist fashion challenge,  Project 333, which was featured in \u003ci\u003eO Magazine \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eReal Simple\u003c\/i\u003e.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e An Ironic Diagnosis\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I could feel the gadolinium contrast pushing through my vein. A      wave of warmth rushed up my arm, and then through my entire body.      I knew my face was flushed. Then, as they slid me back into the      MRI machine, nausea hit, and then the panic. \"There is no room to      sit up. I am going to throw up and choke on my own vomit.\" My head      was in a plastic cage snapped tightly shut, my arms were down by      my side, and the machine started to shake and sounded like ten      thousand jackhammers. I hadn't let myself get really scared until      now. For months, I'd been fighting vertigo, fatigue, and other      symptoms, chalking it all up to stress and an ear infection. I was      training for the Harmon's MS 150, a cycling event in Salt Lake      City, in the spring of 2006. I was going to our local recreation      center for indoor training sessions because it was still too cold      to ride outdoors.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I didn't know much about multiple sclerosis, but my boss had it. I      worked for a publishing company and the owner was in a wheelchair.      When I first started working for him, I didn't know what was wrong      with him and I was too intimidated to ask. Even though he was in a      wheelchair, he was a powerhouse. He was committed to his company      and enjoyed the stressful nature of the business, and made it more      stressful whenever he could. Eventually, I found John's softer      side. I had great respect for him and his wife even though we      couldn't be more different. That stress they thrived on twisted me      up. Once I got to know them better and had been with the company      for almost two years, I decided to raise money for MS research by      participating in the 150-kilometer ride. I wasn't sure if I'd ride      the whole thing but I was looking forward to trying. I wanted to      raise money for MS research, but I was really riding for John, for      his softer side.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It was a stressful spring, and there were several events that      likely triggered the exacerbation that led to my diagnosis. I was      working long hours and had volunteered to chair the annual auction      at my daughter's school. I took a little detour from my cycling      training and went to visit my sister, who lived in Germany. I was      so excited to see her, my brother-in-law, and my niece and nephew.      We didn't see each other very often because we were an ocean      apart, but we talked almost every day or exchanged messages. We      weren't always the best of friends when we were kids, but we get      closer and closer year after year. Bailey, Mark, and I went      together and we had a blast. Between afternoon prosecco toasts      celebrating our reunion and late nights, though, I completely      stressed out my already stressed-out body. Add work deadlines and      jet lag, and it's no wonder that I didn't feel well when I got      back. My grandfather died that spring too. Research shows stress      can cause MS relapses or episodes. I was just getting by in the      craziness of my life, just making ends meet, just barely handling      it. On the outside, it looked like balance. On the inside, it felt      like hell. Losing my grandfather tipped the scales.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When my grandfather died, he was living in an AlzheimerÕs      facility. It was always hard to visit him because he always      remembered me, but couldnÕt really remember why he was there, why      he didnÕt have his driverÕs license, and why his life was gone,      but he was still here. On the day he died, I spent most of the day      with him. His eyes were closed and he was lying down, but he      wasnÕt peaceful. He was agitated, frustrated, restless. Pissed,      really. Not completely lucid, but feisty and verbal. Some things      never change. He kept raising his arms up and saying ÒLift me up,      pull me up,Ó over and over again. IÕd lift him up and fluff his      pillow and heÕd start all over again. I could not make him      comfortable. IÕve lost people before. Friends, my grandmother,      other more distant relatives, but IÕve never been with them when      they left. It wasnÕt the peaceful passing I had heard about. It      was volatile and awful.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e For months I had nightmares about my grandfather yelling at me,      \"Lift me up, pull me up!\" Those words and moments haunted me.      About six months after he died, I asked a minister at my church to      meet me for coffee so I could tell her how mad I was that God let      my grandfather die like that and I couldn't help him. I couldn't      ease his pain. I repeated the words. I said, \"He kept yelling at      me and raising his arms: 'Lift me up. Pull me up.'\" After a moment      of quiet contemplation, she looked at me and said very      matter-of-factly, \"Maybe he wasn't talking to you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I thought about each of those stressful moments as I lay in the      MRI tube, choking down the bile rising in my throat, and pushing      back tears and panic, I started to pray, or plead, or some messy      combination of the two, trapped in the tiny tube. \"Please don't      let me die in this machine. Please don't let me have a brain tumor      or some crazy disease. Get me out of here. Get me out of here.\" By      \"here,\" I meant the machine, the hospital, the day, and the      nightmare. Get me out of here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I was living in the perfect storm of stress in my life: lack of      sleep, overworking, jet lag, regular life stress, and the loss of      someone I had loved my whole life. The vertigo was joined by      overwhelming fatigue, tingly hands, and a numbness in part of my      face. I was sad, tired, and completely depleted and sick. I      thought the vertigo was an ear infection and my doctor thought so      too, at least that's what he told me. Two weeks later, I still      couldn't walk a straight line, let alone ride a bike, and I went      back to the doctor. We started with MRIs of the head. Lesions      suggested something, but nothing definitive. More tests: ear      testing, eye testing, spinal cord MRIs, heart ultrasounds. Was I      having mini strokes? Did I have ALS? The last test, a spinal tap,      sealed the deal.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e That's when I got the phone call from my doctor at the neurology      office. At first, she told me I didn't have MS, and we should take      a \"wait and see approach\" to determine the next step. She said she      was surprised no one had called me since they got the results the      week before. I told her I had only had the test a few days ago.      She said she had to call me back. Three minutes later, she called      back and said, \"Oops. I was looking at the wrong chart. Yep, you      have MS.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This wasn't the defining moment, although it felt like it for a      while. It was the scariest moment and the messiest. My fate was      delivered over the phone, while I was at work, as casually as \"Do      you want fries with that?\" I didn't know what to do with the      information. I had no next step, no plan, only fear.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I had missed the MS ride, was diagnosed with MS while raising      money for it, and still couldn't get on my bike. I hung up the      phone, cried all the way home, and took a Valium left over from      treating the ear infection I never had.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Chapter Two\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Let's Go for Ice Cream\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e One of the hardest things I had to do was tell my daughter I was      sick. I had checked some library books out a few weeks earlier and      read nearly everything I could about MS. Because I didn't know if      I had it or not, I wasn't as interested in the treatments as the      symptoms. What was going to happen to my body if I did have MS?      Nothing good, according to these books. I could go blind or get      double vision from optic neuritis, I might lose or struggle with      bowel and bladder function, experience cognitive decline or end up      in a wheelchair. These books were decades old, and conventional      treatments had only been available for less than twenty years.      They made MS sound like a death sentence-or worse-in my mind. I      knew the first thing I had to do was tell everyone what was      happening. It never crossed my mind to keep this a secret even      though I knew it would be scary to talk about it. What would      people think? Did they even know what MS was? The adults in my      immediate family knew what was going on, but other family,      friends, and coworkers had no idea.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The last person in the family I told was my daughter. It was the      conversation I was dreading most. Bailey and I are close. She is      my everything. I was divorced when she was three, after seven      years of marriage, although I knew I'd be leaving from the day she      was born. Raising a child for so many years alone provides a      unique bond. Bailey and I are so alike. People tell us all the      time that we even use the same facial expressions. I could never      say in words how I feel about this child, and that's why telling      her that I was sick was so hard. I peeked into her bedroom and      said, \"Let's go for ice cream.\" I took her to an ice-cream shop      down the street from our house. For some reason, I thought a happy      place would discount or offset the sad news. I also needed the      leverage of an environment that would keep her from running to her      room. I wanted space for emotion, for questions, for comfort. Most      of all, I just wanted to soften the blow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e We sat down at the table with our cups of ice cream and I      attempted to make small talk. And then I said, \"Remember how I had      vertigo and was going to the doctor?\" Of course she did. And then      I said something ridiculous like \"Don't be scared\" or \"This isn't      as bad as it sounds,\" and before I said another word, tears pooled      in her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes. And I said, \"I have MS.\"      She started crying and said, \"I knew it.\" She left her ice cream      and ran out the door. I followed her, unlocked the car, and we      both got in the backseat. I felt like I was stealing her childhood      and wanted to cry. Not for me or the MS, but because I couldn't      possibly know what was going on in that little heart and brain. I      knew she was strong enough to go through this with me, but my      instinct to protect her was strong too. I understood why so many      parents hide the pain they are experiencing from their children. I      quickly told her the two things I thought she needed to hear, and      that I fiercely believed in that moment: \"I'm not going to die\"      and \"You aren't going to get it.\" We cried and cuddled in the      backseat for a while and when she calmed down enough, I brought      her home and we relocated to her bedroom. We jumped in her bed,      cuddled up, and talked quietly. She told me that she had seen the      library books about MS in the car a few weeks ago. I told her I      didn't know then, that it was only a possibility. Had I known she      was already worried, I would have started the conversation sooner.      See, kids are smart. They see and hear things. If you've ever      tried to hide something from your children, you know what I mean.      If we don't step in and share with them and include them, they      imagine things much worse than reality. I told her that while      things felt really scary right now, that was going to change. I      told her that MS wasn't going to be the center of our lives and      that after a few months, it would become the new normal. As we      both calmed down and kept talking, my uncertainty began to melt.      In that moment, I went from scared and worried to knowing that I      would fight for my health and win. I would do that for us.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e We fell asleep, and when we woke up we were a little less scared      than the night before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Chapter Three\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Love and Other Drugs\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Let's start with the love part. Love was more powerful than any      conventional therapy I tried. It still is. In the beginning, love      was . . . the calls with my sister when I didn't know what was      wrong with me. She was across the ocean but it felt like she was      holding my hand. Love was the way my husband found a thousand ways      to help me before I even knew how to ask for help. Love was how my      parents rallied around me and said they would do anything to help.      Love was the time my daughter got in trouble for writing about the      benefits of stem cell therapy for MS at her Catholic school, and      love was when my sister-in-law organized a cycling team, Team TLC      (the team who loves Courtney), to raise funds for MS research. All      of those loving things, along with many others, healed me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e For the Love of Puppy Breath\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Three weeks after my MS diagnosis, we happened to be watching a      local pet adoption cable channel, and our hearts broke over every      sad pet story. We weren't considering a puppy, even though Bailey      had wanted one, so I'm not exactly sure how we got hooked on that      channel. Then a dog named Lloyd was featured. Lloyd was a little      black puppy with brain damage. I thought about my recent MRI      scans. I had brain damage too. \"We're meant for each other,\" I      thought. Before I knew it, my heart (or my brain damage) took over      and I said, \"We're adopting Lloyd.\" I was usually the voice of      reason in the family-or at least willing to discuss big decisions      before jumping-but I had made up my mind. My husband was      speechless, and my daughter hugged me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I was over the moon. I thought I wanted to heal Lloyd, but what I      really wanted was for Lloyd to heal me and to heal our family. We      needed some good news, something to lift our spirits after weeks      of scary health stuff. Lloyd seemed like the perfect lift. After      talking with Lloyd's foster mom, though, we learned that his needs      were far outside our capabilities. Lloyd needed a stay-at-home      parent, and I wasn't that. I was a busy, working mom with a      chronic disease. I didn't have the time that Lloyd deserved. It      was heartbreaking to realize Lloyd wouldn't become part of our      family, but once I had said \"yes\" to one puppy, we couldn't close      the door. We decided to look at other puppies. Clearly, my desire      for simplicity hadn't kicked in yet. I just wanted some relief      from the pain and heaviness. I wanted to be light.","brand":"Tarcher","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304417775845,"sku":"NP9780143130680","price":20.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780143130680.jpg?v=1767737003","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/soulful-simplicity-isbn-9780143130680","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}