Minimalism is Ongoing

There's a misconception with minimalism that I don't want to deal with, but have to. Actually, there are many misconceptions about minimalism we can have, but this is the main one I have to work on and it is this: That once I'm pared down, I'll never have to pare down again. Yeah, nope. Sorry.

To be honest, I wish this were true. But it isn't. We live in a modern world where things, tangible things, are to be purchased, found, stumbled across, looked for, or accidentally uncovered, no matter where we are. Attics are overflowing. Amazon is at our literal beck and call. So we can get whatever we want, whenever we want. 

As a minimalist, that means I'll still yearn for some things, even though I know I don't need them. Which means I will be paring down forever. This may sound like a downer of an article. But it's not my point. My point is this: you and I will have to be semi-vigilant over the years to not keep the things that act as a weakness for us.

As an example to you all, I always go back to my main weakness - a collection that I have a huge love/frustration with, which is vintage mugs. No one in their right mind needs more than, say, three or four mugs in their cupboard. We have the ability to wash them frequently. We don't need dozens. And yet, the vintage collector and seller that I am will always want to have just one more mug in my cupboard. I can't help it. It's a huge weakness for me.

But it's a weakness because I let it. I frequent thrift stores, and I'm looking for these wonderful vintage mugs to sell, so naturally, I'm going to want them too, because I love the quality and shape of vintage mugs. I'm surrounding myself with my weakness. But after having upwards of sixty mugs in my collection (I know no need to tell me how ridiculous this is), I knew I had to pare down for good and for real!

So I did. And I still am today. I'm at a comfortable 16 mugs right now, which is still a dozen more than I need. But, though I've been into minimalism for eight years, I'm still working through some areas. Vintage mugs are one of them (as are shoes... I love shoes.

But by being aware of my kryptonite, I know to be extra aware of what I'm bringing home. When I'm at a thrift store hemming and hawing over a mug, I can ask myself: Do I really love this? Should I instead sell this in my vintage shop? And finally, the dreaded question: Do I need it? That always gets me back into the right frame of mind. But, I will have to always watch myself in this area. 

Of course, that's not to say we can't have some fun. If there's a mug I have to have, then come on, this is a cheap thrill that makes me happy. I'll add it to my mug rotation! But I also know that eventually, I may need to take one away later on. One in, one out. A great rule to abide by, to keep things pared down.

Minimalism is ongoing and something you may always be working on. I know this because it's ongoing for me. We are human, and because we live in a material world, we will battle with material things. But by understanding our battle, we never have to fear that excess will overtake us again. 

We can live with balance, live with less, and still live the best lives we've ever had.

Traveling to Find Truth

Florence at night
Exactly eight years ago today, as I write this, I was on a trip of a lifetime with one of my dearest friends. We went to Italy and sashayed around Venice, Florence, and Rome like we knew what we were doing. (Well, my friend did. She’d already been there before, but this time, she took me!)

This trip was life-changing for several reasons. First, traveling abroad always expands the mind. When you shift into a new culture, with new people, language, food, and activities, you can’t help but change. You are enlightened, entertained, and utterly consumed with a new way of thinking. Old places with a new perspective will do that to a person. 

Second, this was the trip that started my minimalism quest. I’m not sure if my friend knows this today (I hope she does, and she will now!), but this trip across the Atlantic changed the way I lived life. With travel restrictions, we had to travel light and only take a small suitcase (and one carry-on). This suitcase had to be small, which meant we had to be intentional with every piece of clothing we took.

No excess, only the essentials.

I took a trip to Europe when I was 20. But what did I know at 20? Sure, I packed light, but I remember bringing a lot more than I needed. Fast forward two decades, and I can tell you, I have changed. 

Florence, 2017
This time, while in Florence, at our delightful hotel overlooking the bridges of the Arno River, I remember thinking that I was living - and living well - out of a small suitcase with only a fraction of my wardrobe. It was as perplexing as it was enlightening. Not only did I have everything I needed, but I was in love with this simple way of living. I could focus on where I was, not what I was carrying or wearing. 

No worrying over wardrobe, no excess to meddle through, no cares about impressing…just working with the basics that were exactly what I needed. Nothing less, nothing more.

So, what have I learned about minimalism since that fateful trip to Italy? Just this:

We don’t need it all:

We just don’t. We don’t need a giant closet of clothes to live well and satisfied lives. We only need to have the basics, a love for what we own, and to treat them well. A minimalist wardrobe is mix-and-matchable, which means you have a wardrobe that will always be fresh. I don’t need that extra dress, or that extra shirt, or that extra pair of shoes, when it comes to travel. They’re going to be in the way, trust me. Somewhere along the way, the media has convinced us that we need more stuff to live better lives, when it’s really the opposite.

We need to experience more rather than buy stuff:

The older I get, the less stuff I want. I want experiences rather than things piling up in my drawers and closets. I want a trip to the Alps rather than more ski wear. I want a vacation in Peru rather than gadgets and gizmos that get tucked away in a drawer. Of course, there are times when gift-y things are necessary and fun, and wanted! But on the whole, I want memories that last as long as I do, rather than stuff that will eventually erode to the elements of time. My birthday gift this year was a concert. And it was perfect.

Less is more:

I think the biggest flex about traveling to Italy with my friend and only a handful of clothing items was the creativity we got to exhibit. Only two skirts, with two pairs of pants, a dress, and four tops meant mixing and matching every bit of it. I think I brought two pairs of shoes. That was it. I brought a couple of accessories as well, and that was all I needed for the ten days we traveled through the great country of Italy. Did I need anything while I was there? Nope. Did I wish I’d brought more? Nope. In fact, I think I even brought a shirt that I tucked into a side pocket that I forgot about the entire trip. So I brought it along and didn’t even need it or realize it was missing from my wardrobe. Less is so much more, and I learned to appreciate every article of clothing I had. 

Now more than ever, I love living the minimalist way, and I have my friend, Lara, and a trip to Italy to thank for it. It changed my outlook on how to live, giving me a more refined and less wasteful approach to doing things. It also decreased the unbearable stress and unsustainable lifestyle I thought I had to have to be "normal." Normal is overrated. Instead, I appreciate what I have and use all of what I have.

Italy will always be a favorite place because of the transformative changes it created in me to become a happier person. And because of it, minimalism and its freedom filtered into all areas of my life, from home to wardrobe and finances. What a trip!

Ciao.



Want Versus Need

My husband and I recently attended a beautiful concert put on by the band Lord Huron. They're an unusual band in that they combine many different styles of music into one, like folk, pop, rock, and western, and the result is a beautiful style of music that is unique, and hauntingly, their own. They're an alternative/indie band to the utmost.

They have a song called "Nothing I Need," and it's a simple but complex song. From what I can infer, the singer is talking about losing someone he wishes he had kept in his life. He loses a girl and wishes for her back, wishes he'd known what he had, and yet the recurring chorus line is this: "I got everything I want and I got nothing that I need."

This phrase is something a lot of us feel regarding contentment and letting things go. The singer is lamenting his decision to let her go, yet continues to say this haunting phrase. He got what he wanted, but it wasn't what he needed. So, is it worth still wanting what you can't have?

As I sat in a small auditorium in Reno, listening to this musical group of geniuses creating music that took me out of my seat and into somewhere otherworldly, I thought about contentment and minimalism and wanting versus needing, and this is what I got from the song:

"I got everything I want." - This is where the key to happiness lies. There will always be missed opportunities and missed relationships. We aren't omniscient. We are free-will human beings doing the best we can with every choice we make (most of us, anyway), and that means we will choose wrongly despite our best attempts. We can't know where we'll go wrong, sometimes. This is where choosing contentment comes into play. Remind yourself how much you have, how much you have wanted, and also received, even though we all have things we want that we'll never have. Choosing to believe we have "everything we want" puts our whole life into the right perspective. One of gratitude.

Remember, but stop looking back - It's that looking back that will eat away at our heart and soul. We can't go back and change things; we can't go back and make that decision to go in the direction we wished we had gone. We can only work with what we now have. Looking back breaks the heart, and when the heart is broken, the only way to heal it is by moving forward. These two lines in the song are poignant: "I'd give up everything I've got just to have what used to be; You're the one I'll never get and you're the one thing that I need." I believe we all have a relationship (family or friends) we wish we could've had that never was to be. Instead of staying stuck in heartbreak, we have to stop looking back at what could've been and focus on what is. It hurts too much to stay in the "what if" gray area, and it does you no good. 

"And I got nothing that I need" - This line gets to me the most. It tugs at the heart to say we never got what we really needed. But, there will always be something we think we "need," and yet, need is a broad category. What do we really need? To never "have to have" something or an item in your life to feel complete is ultimate freedom, even if it pertains to relationships. This is a tenet of minimalism that most people continue to work on throughout their lives. If I can just have that big house, that car, that vacation, that person. To be content with what God gives us is the goal ... even if it's difficult to get to that mindset and we don't know the reason behind our longing for a specific thing or "need."

Yes, there will always be a loss of some sort for everyone. We all want things we weren't meant to have. But if we can remember what we do have and hold, regardless of what it is, that's a way to circumvent the loss. And by reminding ourselves of everything we have, despite a broken heart, there is a way to move on and be the whole, complete, satisfied people we were meant to be. 

I love this song for what it is. I relate to it fully. But it also reminds me that I can let go and move forward.