I’ve always been a hoarder. I would keep all of my clothes, every scrap piece of paper or safety pin and all miscellaneous items that might come in handy at a later date if I could (Don’t throw that away! I might need a pocket-sized, Italian dictionary someday!). But alas, it would be impossible to keep all of the items that have come in and out of my life simply because there isn’t enough space. But lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want in my life – what is essential? What is unnecessary? And what is just plain toxic? I’ve been thinking in terms of relationships, mostly, but then I saw a Minimalism, a documentary on Netflix, and I thought why not extend that mindset to the material things in my life, as well?
I’m not talking about Minimalism the art movement, but Minimalism the lifestyle. The documentary shares the stories of two men who realized that their dissatisfaction with life was rooted in their reliance on material things to fill “the void” in their lives. They rid themselves of excess; they sold their houses, donated their clothes, threw away their junk. They tried to only use essentials, and they found out that they were happier. Instead of placing value on their material items, they began to place it in people. Their relationships improved, their mood improved, and their outlook on life completely changed. No, I don’t feel like I have a void per say, but being a college student is overwhelming. There seems like there’s a set path you have to take to get to a stable job and make money, (so that you can buy things) which when you think about it, sounds like a complete bummer. I undoubtedly use material possessions to make me feel better (retail therapy, anyone?) which is why I thought that maybe I could benefit from a lifestyle change. Donating and getting rid of items that I don’t use sounded refreshing, like a cleanse. And who doesn’t love a good cleanse?
As a student, I live in two places. There’s my home in St. Louis and my home in Minneapolis. Having two homes makes it very easy to lose track of how much stuff I have (or rather, how much stuff I really don’t need). So, over Winter Break, I began to de-clutter my room in St. Louis. All of the items in my room weren’t important or functional enough for me to even bring to college, so I thought getting rid of them would be easy. But that’s the thing about a cleanse; you start off optimistic, but then you realize that it’s going to be way more difficult than you thought. The T-shirts from high school sports and clubs were easy, but when the item at hand was remotely sentimental, parting with it became stressful.
When I got stressed, I knew that I had to put things to the test. For example, if I’d never worn an article of clothing, I gave myself a week to incorporate it into my daily wardrobe, and if I didn’t, it would go into the “giveaway” pile. Another way to ease the anxiety caused by parting with an item was to give it away to someone. I bought a shirt at the City Lights Bookstore, a place I admire as a landmark in literature and a symbol of a generation of writers, but I never wore the shirt. Not even with pajamas. So, I gave it to a friend I knew would appreciate it just as much as I did. There was even a time when I realized that a dress I had never worn caused me stress rooted in the fact that I might never have the occasion to wear it, so I gave it away, too. I learned that the important things aren’t material, and that it felt so good when I gave people spontaneous gifts.
Beyond clothing, Minimalism got to be even more difficult. On the surface, my lifestyle choices just didn’t seem to be feasible under the guidelines, but I wanted to use less, have less and buy less. So, when I got back to school, I decided to meal prep with my roommate. Meal prepping is incredible and I completely understand why it’s all the craze right now. (Sidenote: I had never had quinoa before our last recipe, but now I’m completely hooked). Meal prepping isn’t just a way for me lead a healthy and busy lifestyle, it’s a way to produce less waste, because you are portioning out the food you’ll be eating for the whole week. Meal prepping helps you save time, too, because your meals are ready to go! It’s also a way to be cost effective, because it keeps you from overbuying groceries, since you have a recipe to follow. Minimalism itself is pretty cost effective because you begin to understand what is essential, and you begin questioning your purchases more thoughtfully.
I then moved on to the realm of social media. What is Minimalism in terms of social media? Does it mean not having any? The term “Minimalism” has an inherent aesthetic undertone, it makes me think of black and white photos strategically placed on a personal blog feed, but that’s not what I wanted. In truth, I didn’t want to change my social media style or usage. So I didn’t. This process will take time, and I get that.
At this point, I understood that Minimalism would be gradual for me; there’s absolutely no way I could’ve just dove right in. But what I also understood was that the need to become a Minimalist comes from a place of extreme security, a place of privilege. My desire to be Minimalist and to cut down on material things wouldn’t exist if I did not have the ability to obtain all of those things. But what also I realized that was a lot of the clutter in my life was junk or trash anyway, and I could donate so much of my stuff, too. Beyond this new mindset hopefully making it easier when I have to move out of my apartment (I can only fit so much in one car), I can feel it helping me become a smarter consumer and better prioritize my relationships over material things. So, here’s to trying new things and learning from them this year.