It’s cold at the top.

When what you want for your life is at the bottom? You ski the snow in front of you.

The time had come for me to ski the snow in front of me.

But to do that I first had to launch myself off the edge of the cliff.

Literally.

And I had seriously miscalculated my ability to do that.

Gorgeous right? Except that bit over on the left at the bottom where it drops off? That’s where the skiing was meant to be happening.

It doesn’t matter how I got to this cliff. What matters is that I had been perched there, alone at the top of a snowy mountain in the Chilean Alps for long enough that I was starting to get nervous about the sun going down.

And I absolutely did NOT want to be hovering on the edge of a mountain in the dark of night. Alone.

I wanted to be at the bottom of the mountain, sitting in the jacuzzi and staring at the stars with a glass of wine. Alone. Or not. Whatever.

So far as I could tell, the only way to get to the place I wanted to be was to launch myself over the edge and carve (or crash) my way down the face of that mountain.

Except.

I really didn’t want to do it.

Except.

I couldn’t stay where I was.

Because where I was? Was getting really cold. And I was getting really hungry. And questioning every decision I’d ever made in my life because they had all led me to this moment where I had to choose where I was going to spend the night.

In the end, my fear of freezing to death or starving to death or being eaten by wolves on the top of this mountain was greater than my fear of cartwheeling to the bottom.

And so I gathered every ounce of courage I had. Leaned on every scrap of the limited skiing ability I had. And skiied. Down. The mountain.

I was not reckless. But I was bold.

I was not fearless. But I was careful.

Mostly, I was not silent.

I went down shouting

You.
Are.
Doing.
This.
With.
Your.
Strong.
Legs.
Strong.
Legs.
Strong.
Legs.

with each sharp shoosh of my turns.

I wasn’t completely sure I could do it.

But I knew that what was waiting for me at the bottom was so much better than what was happening at the top.

And so I went.

For a lot of my clients, standing in their home feels a lot like standing on the edge of a cliff.

You look around and see a house that doesn’t feel like a place you want to be anymore. Rooms that don’t breathe. Closets that you don’t even want to open. Spaces that don’t make you feel proud, or at ease, or in love with your life.

It just feels heavy, living underneath all the memories and the stories and “what ifs.”

And you know that the home you really want to live in is on the other side of your fear and uncertainty and overwhelm.

But here’s the thing about fear and the pull toward something better.

Whatever that vision you have for your life? It’s better than where you’re currently standing. Nobody envisions crap for their future.

If you’ve got somewhere you’re headed? Let’s get you there.

Here’s what you need to know:

❶ Designing the home you want to live in is not just about what you release. It’s also about what you choose to carry forward.

You want a home that feels like a safe harbor—a space that feels peaceful and welcoming and true. That kind of home isn’t built by getting rid of everything. It’s built by keeping the right things. The things that support the life you’re building now. The version of yourself you’re becoming.

It’s built by choosing what stays.

Not because you’re afraid to let it go.

But because it belongs.

Because it lights you up.

Because it holds the story of where you’ve been.
And the promise of where you’re headed.

Because it anchors you to who you truly are.

❷ You’re not letting go of things just because "you should." You’re letting go of them because what you want isn’t up at the top of the mountain, where you are now, buried under all the mess and indecision.

The home you crave? The life you crave? Is waiting for you at the bottom of the mountain. Past the fear. Past the hard part.

❸ You’re not just launching yourself off this cliff to survive. You’re jumping because you want to get somewhere better. Where there’s a warm jacuzzi waiting for you if you can just get through the terrifying part.

You don’t need to be flinging yourself off recklessly. You don’t have to be a professional declutterer or have a bunch of pinterest boards labelled “I wish my home looked like this.” You just need to:

• Gather your courage. Because you will have to face the ghosts. And hard decisions will need to be made.

• Lean on the knowledge you have about who you are and the kind of life you want to be living. This will be your compass, guiding you through all of those hard decisions.

• Be bold. Be methodical. Go as slowly as you need to go. One turn at a time down the mountain. Trusting that you can do it and are doing it. Even if you have to scream affirmations at yourself the whole time.

It doesn’t matter how you got to the top of the mountain.

What matters is you’re not staying there.

You’ve got better places to be.

Your favorite ski instructor (just kidding do NOT take skiing advice from me),
Vivian