Have you ever felt burnt out by life’s unnecessary complexities? Ever wondered if there was a simpler, more manageable way of doing life? Have you felt frustrated and even more overwhelmed by this search for simplicity? You’re not alone.
A few days ago, a friend asked me about my “minimalist way of thinking.” He had picked up on the fact that I had talked about minimalism quite a lot over the past few years. What kicked that into gear?
I began my obsession with minimalism as a direct response to my lifelong habit of keeping everything. From action figures to random worksheets from first grade, I managed to accumulate a lot of clutter. And each time we moved–which was a lot as a child and as an adult–I had to pack up my clutter and lug it around. It had gotten to the point where I was shifting around unopened boxes of treasures without ever unpacking them. These priceless keepsakes of mine had little worth if I wasn’t taking time to enjoy them.
So my wife and I had a huge yard sale, during which I sold hundreds of my accumulated books. I kept meaning to get around to reading them, but the thought of having to lug them around again in another move made my back ache. Part of me felt like I was betraying old friends, but I knew the books were designed to be read. Most of the books didn’t get sold at the yard sale. Rather than shrugging and adding them back to the shelves, we loaded up the van and donated them to Goodwill. Sure, my shelves were now empty, but my mind seemed somehow less scattered.
A few years ago, my wife and I watched the documentary Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things. It wasn’t particularly mind-blowing, but it offered the perspectives of many who were sick of the rat race, sick of obsessing over consumerism and sick of keeping up with the clutter that surrounded them. It bored into my brain in a way that I couldn’t quite shake. Everywhere I looked, I saw excess. As my ADHD really started manifesting, I found myself mentally exhausted by keeping up with so much stuff.
Roughly two years later, Marie Kondo came onto the scene, and her Netflix hit Tidying Up with Marie Kondo grabbed our attention. We soon found ourselves traveling room-to-room, eliminating whatever didn’t “spark joy” and loading up the van again for consecutive Goodwill hauls.
By watching both of these things with another person, my wife and I were able to hold each other accountable when it came to scaling down. Accountability is indispensable as a tool for embodying lasting lifestyle changes. Use it often!
It has been essential for me to find tools that work, as I still struggle with clutter. Currently, my desk is covered in piles of clutter that are arranged haphazardly. This arrangement allows me to see the things I want to remember, but it also requires archeological expertise in sifting through those piles. Though I’m lightyears away from becoming the poster child for minimalism, I still seek it as an ideal.
Minimalism as an ideal has done wonders for my well-being. It has allowed me to confidently purchase a cheaper, modest home and save hundreds each month on a mortgage. It has been a great accompanying ideal to mindfulness–both of which have provided significant reprieve from my ADHD. The search for simplicity will still be a lifelong challenge for me, but it’s one worth taking.
What are your tools for pursuing minimalism and simplicity?
