How Minimalism is Changing My Life

Apr 12, 2021

"Naked we come, naked we leave,
Fools we are to hold tightly,
We are free, we are free,
(We are the jail, We are the key)"
-Nothing More,
"This Is the Time (Ballast)"

Labels

I am a vegan, an environmentalist, and a minimalist who seeks to make zero-waste, fair-trade, budget-friendly (and preferably pre-owned) choices. There are moments when I feel overwhelmed by these labels I've placed on myself, as if these decisions to live as ethically as possible are more of a burden than a blessing. Because sometimes it feels unnecessarily difficult to care about so much when so many people care about so little. When basically every material object and every available service doesn't align with my values, how can I live in a world so driven by thoughtless consumerism?

When I'm struggling with these thoughts, I remind myself that I don't need to spend money on all those things I don't support (or even on things I do support), and this reminder relieves immeasurable stress in my life. That's the beauty of minimalism: I no longer have to worry about all the things I "can't" buy because I recognize that most material goods aren't inherently valuable. Now, everything I do buy is purchased with intention and purpose.

The Joy of Letting Go

Everything I've sold, donated, or thrown away since choosing to become a minimalist are things I have not spared a single thought for since making the decision to get rid of them, even if I debated for months whether or not to let them go. If you asked me to list the things I've lost or the regrets I've had since giving them away, I couldn't do it; owning them added no value to my life, but giving them up lifted a weight off me I didn't even realize I was carrying.

Naked We Come, Naked We Leave

When I get the urge to spend money on something, I take a step back, acknowledge that feeling, and then push it away. It may sound a little silly, but I've found it genuinely helps. I don't berate myself for non-minimalist desires, but I don't give in to them either (most of the time -- it's a work in progress).

What I like to think of when I'm struggling with staying on track is that we are born with nothing and we die with nothing. Everything material we accumulate in our life is left here once we're gone, so there's virtually nothing essential enough to hold on to along the way. And what value will those things have after we die? We only think we find value in them because we invested (wasted) money in them or they were given to us by someone else. But, in reality, they only have value because we place value on them, and once we decide to take that value away, they're worthless. Life is the only valuable thing we have, and when that comes to a close, we won't reminisce about all the objects we acquired but about the memories we created and the people we knew.

Nostalgia

Minimalism, now, seems like it was a natural step in my life, like veganism and zero-waste, because I've always had a hard time caring about many of the things other people care about (and, therefore, waste money or time on): social media, fashion trends, makeup, shoes, jewelry, celebrities, gadgets. The things I collected were almost purely purchased for aesthetics: pins, books, clothes (mostly t-shirts and "just in case" articles), artwork, trinkets (lots and lots of those). Some of these things (I thought) held sentimental value, like pins I purchased on vacations, but I've realized I appreciate the money in my bank account much more than I ever appreciated the pins themselves.

One of the things I've thought about while decluttering my life is how much I enjoy traveling and how, on international trips I took as a student, I very happily lived out of a suitcase for weeks. Though I'm not sure if I could ever become a true nomad and live out of a bag in perpetuity, I try to channel the joy in simplicity I felt while on those trips. When I remind myself of that and then look around at the clutter in which I live, it seems silly to keep holding onto it so tightly, as if I'm drowning in stuff.

Resources I've Found Helpful

Since getting into the world of zero-waste over the past few years, my exposure to minimalism has increased significantly. (After all, the best way to be zero-waste is to not create demand for unnecessary products.) Even before then, I was fascinated by tiny houses and other small-scale living accommodations, like renovated vans and school buses. However, there are a few resources that helped me along the way, like The Minimalist Vegan by Michael and Maša Ofei and the Minimalists' documentary, Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things, which had been sitting in my Netflix list for years before I finally watched it. (The Minimalists Podcast is also a good, free resource.)

The one thing, however, that truly pushed me over the edge from a consumerist to a minimalist was Francine Jay's book, The Joy of Less. I had purchased it several years ago at a used book shop but hadn't read it until a few months back, and it gave me that last little nudge I needed to realize that minimalism wasn't something to do in the future; I could start right now. Even better, it made me excited to declutter, and now I find far more enjoyment every time I discover something to let go than I ever did when I found something to buy!

be conscious, be kind, be vegan