“The best gift is the joy of less.”
—The Minimalists
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Moving into Space
How spending time in an (almost) empty house showed me just how calm life can be
By Karen Quaintmere
Before I moved house, I had sorted and sifted, sold and donated, and generally reduced my possessions.
I thought I was living with very little. That I had 'minimized' to a point that felt comfortable for me.
Having sold my home, I packed up my remaining furniture and pictures, clothes, and kitchen belongings, and shed stuff, and books and so on to put them into storage. There was a gap between the sale of my home and moving to the new house. My stuff filled just over two storage containers. That was a bit of a wake-up call. Did I really have that much? After all my efforts to reduce what I own!
I moved into my brand new home without my things in order to sort out carpets and flooring and to allow time to get some changes in the house completed before my containers arrived.
I moved in with just what I could cram into my fairly modest car. An airbed, pillow, blankets, a towel, a bag of clothes, a few kitchen things, a hand-held Dyson, my laptop, a couple of books, and a few art materials. Oh, and a few house plants and a string of lights. And my cat—my treasured companion. It was a bit like indoor camping. And I loved it.
Watching the light moving across the almost empty open-plan living space. No curtains obscuring the light or the view of trees through the windows. Watching it get light and later the darkness draw in. The reflections in the floor tiles.
I felt so calm.
There were some things I definitely missed. A real bed. My sofa, and being able to sit at a table. Wardrobes—being able to put things away out of sight. A bread knife. A colander. Mugs to be able to offer guests a hot drink. My shredder—I ended up with so much unwanted paper around without it!
I bought a few things I'd intended to replace in any event. I bought a few plants for the garden because I love to plant (I'm not so minimal in the garden).
All in all I managed very well with very few things. Amazingly well. Working with what I had, meant that I had to simplify everything. Preparing food became simpler, and clearing away and cleaning became much easier.
Choosing what to wear hardly took any time at all and yet I never felt like I didn't have something appropriate to put on. And yet, I was living out of one bag.
It's not just that there was physically less stuff in the space, but visually there was less clutter.
I got to thinking about why I had all that other stuff stored away and what I would do when it arrived. I started to view the arrival of my stored 'stuff' with trepidation.
And then yesterday it arrived. OVERWHELM!
I wanted to ask the removal guys to take it back.
So, now begins again the process of sifting and sorting and editing, until it feels right. Until there's nothing more that I want to remove at this point in my life. I'm learning that this is an iterative process. That I have to allow it to take the time it needs to take. To honour this journey.
The difference for me now is that I have had a real experience of minimalism and that will motivate me to continue this process. It was like my version of the 30-day minimalism game.
Moving into space for a time helped me to see just how little I actually need. And, how having less means so much more. More light. More space. More breathing room. More calm.
Living to a Higher Standard
Using Minimalism to reduce our footprint
By Carl Phillips
“Everything in excess is opposed to nature.”
—Hippocrates
With a rising population comes a rise in the human footprint on the earth. The impact of this is hard to ignore, even for the least observant. Our public transport systems are busier than ever, and face increasing pressure. There is more demand to build newer and larger roads and homes. As our cities expand, our forests and natural areas of beauty dwindle.
The wonderful creatures that called these places home suffer, becoming increasingly displaced. Their own homes are compromised, and these creatures are forced into unnatural ways of surviving, when they should be left alone to thrive.
We pollute our oceans. We wrap just about anything we can in plastic.
Never before have we had to deal with such aggressive advertising on a daily basis. Never has the message to consume “more” been stronger. And, in an all-too-often zombified state, we oblige.
As our decoration, wardrobes, and trinkets expand, clutter consumes us. But still we thirst for more. Our homes are no longer big enough to house all we have, so we take up additional rental space—just for now, we kid ourselves. Just until we clear the decks, knowing that day will never come.
Perhaps we convince ourselves that we “need” a bigger home. The fact that we may not be able to afford it doesn’t enter into the equation. After all, we “need” the additional space for all of the additional stuff.
To paraphrase Chuck Palahniuk, we spend money we don’t have on things we don’t need to impress people we don’t care for much. We try to keep up even though, somewhere deep inside, we know that it’s just a race to the bottom.
Does this sound like the work of an evolved species? Does this behavior sound enlightened?
Treading Lightly Instead
We can resist. More than that, we have a responsibility to resist. We can choose to consume less. We can choose to consume responsibly. We can judge and compare less.
We can make space for nature. Respecting every living being on the planet, understanding we are all part of an intricate puzzle and all just temporary guests here—temporary guests that owe their host environment the courtesy of not damaging anything.
We can use fewer pollutants. We can recycle, reutilize, and revitalize.
We can say no to evasive and intrusive advertising. We can choose to live intentionally, with “enough” instead of “too much.”
We can affect change in our own small but meaningful way.
We can reduce our footprint. We can look to make any footprints we do leave positive ones. We can try to make the world a slightly better place to be.
Seemingly tiny steps add up. Small acts of kindness and thoughtfulness have a compound effect. We can live to a higher standard. We can hold ourselves accountable to this higher standard. The world is waiting. The world is watching. How will you choose to help it?
A Little More of Less
A few other articles we think you might enjoy…
Last Minute Gift Ideas by The Minimalists
99 Clutter-free Gift Ideas by Joshua Becker
Minimalism Makes Room for Joy by Karen Trefzger
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