MrNoodly
Well-known member
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2012
- Messages
- 4,967
- Reaction score
- 60
Living with only what I could fit in a van. Wow, that seemed so radical when I was contemplating this lifestyle. It seemed like deprivation. I had so many cherished possessions -- particularly my art collection. But I also knew I had a lot of stuff that didn't mean much to me, and a lot of stuff I'd forgotten I owned.
But I did jettison everything I couldn't fit in a van. And, surprise, I didn't feel deprived. I didn't feel poor. I felt less burdened.
Then, even more surprising, I started getting rid of more things.
Self-described "author, thinker, life enthusiast," Mark Manson, wrote about his path to minimalism:
Every step along the way, getting rid of what I didn’t absolutely need was painful, but at no point did I ever miss anything once it was gone. Ever.
I have experienced the same thing. For example, I had closets of clothes. Nothing fancy, mostly jeans and t-shirts. But I liked variety. Culling all that down and wearing the same few items of clothing over and over seemed like it would be depressing. But I got it down to what would fit in the van: one bin of pants, one of shirts. After a few months I realized that I had only been wearing stuff in the top half of each bin. And I hadn't felt deprived. Because I had other things going in my life. I had a new adventure. I wasn't using clothing -- or other stuff -- to fill the holes in my life.
When I drive bumpy, rocky, washboardy roads, I get annoyed by stuff rattling around in the back. Some of that rattly stuff is essential, like my tools. But other things? I start wondering if I can jettison more. (And do I need every damn tool I have?) I feel yet another edit session coming on -- and I just went through a big one less than three months ago.
I know each person's idea of what's essential is different. I don't advocate living like monks. But I've learned what's essential for me, and, more importantly, what things really aren't, what things I don't miss that I was certain I would. That has been the big lesson from the past year.
But I did jettison everything I couldn't fit in a van. And, surprise, I didn't feel deprived. I didn't feel poor. I felt less burdened.
Then, even more surprising, I started getting rid of more things.
Self-described "author, thinker, life enthusiast," Mark Manson, wrote about his path to minimalism:
Every step along the way, getting rid of what I didn’t absolutely need was painful, but at no point did I ever miss anything once it was gone. Ever.
I have experienced the same thing. For example, I had closets of clothes. Nothing fancy, mostly jeans and t-shirts. But I liked variety. Culling all that down and wearing the same few items of clothing over and over seemed like it would be depressing. But I got it down to what would fit in the van: one bin of pants, one of shirts. After a few months I realized that I had only been wearing stuff in the top half of each bin. And I hadn't felt deprived. Because I had other things going in my life. I had a new adventure. I wasn't using clothing -- or other stuff -- to fill the holes in my life.
When I drive bumpy, rocky, washboardy roads, I get annoyed by stuff rattling around in the back. Some of that rattly stuff is essential, like my tools. But other things? I start wondering if I can jettison more. (And do I need every damn tool I have?) I feel yet another edit session coming on -- and I just went through a big one less than three months ago.
I know each person's idea of what's essential is different. I don't advocate living like monks. But I've learned what's essential for me, and, more importantly, what things really aren't, what things I don't miss that I was certain I would. That has been the big lesson from the past year.