I Thought I Was a Minimalist... but I Was Wrong

Shortly after my younger child turned two, I decided not to go back to work as I had originally planned, but to continue at home with my kids.  My older child was nearly five, so I bought a few primers and some Cuisenaire rods and began teaching her at home.  

This decision meant that our income wasn't going to nearly double, but that it would remain about the same (except for cost-of-living increases) for the foreseeable future.

You see, I thought I had learned to live on one salary.  However, our credit card debt had already been slowly increasing, since every month we spent just a little more than my husband Jon earned.

Voluntary simplicity – or not?

I thought I was fully on board with the reality of our income, and was ready to live a minimalist life.  We didn't call it minimalism in the 1990s – it was called "voluntary simplicity" back then – but it shared a lot of ideals with today's concept of minimalism:

• Mindful consumption.  Buy only what you need; declutter what you don't use.  Practice frugality; avoid status symbols and lifestyle inflation (when luxuries become common as your income increases).

• Inner growth.  Focus on relationships, community, personal peace, and self-development instead of chasing wealth.

• Slow living.  Work fewer hours to gain time for inner growth; drive less, walk more, do more of your own cooking, home care, and self-care.  Reduce screen time in favor of engagement with real life.

• Ecological awareness.  As consumption is reduced, lower your carbon footprint, and respect the planet's limits.

I found decluttering to be pretty easy, and decided that since I was good at it, I was well on the way to the streamlined, idyllic life I imagined would ensue.  But the truth is, I was even better at buying new stuff to replace what I had removed, only to get rid of that stuff too when the novelty wore off.

My life was a revolving door, a merry-go-round of declutter ⇨ buy ⇨ declutter ⇨ buy again.  I was in search of the perfect items that would finally satisfy me.  My consumption habits were anything but minimalist.

Related article:  9 Ways to Free Yourself from the Trap of Consumerism

The litmus test

This went on for several years, and it gradually dawned on me that my supposed simplicity wasn't working.

I claimed to value relationships and service, but all my free time was spent browsing in stores, or perusing catalogs and magazines, thinking about what I wanted to buy.  I'd anticipate the fulfillment I'd get from my next purchase, only to have the excitement wane all too quickly.  Yet I believed I was living an intentional life.

I spent my energy and attention dealing with my belongings, but it took a depleted savings account and five-figure credit card debt to jolt me into awareness of the treadmill I was on.

I was worn out and dissatisfied.  And something made me realize that simplicity wasn't about the number of things I owned or the square footage of my home (by then, we had downsized to a two-bedroom, one-bath apartment from our three-bedroom, two-bath house).  Simplicity is about my attitude, my choices, my mindset.  What I think influences what I do, and what I do is the litmus test for what I'm really all about.

Should I have already known this?  Sure.  I'm a Christian, and while I'm far from perfect, I know enough to realize that going to church, agreeing with a certain creed, reading a certain book, and saying certain prayers doesn't mean anything if I'm not doing my best to obey the words of Jesus.  St. Paul exhorts, "Be transformed by the renewal of your mind." (Romans 12:2)  What I think influences what I do, and what I do is the proof of who I am.

I apologize for using a religious analogy, because minimalism isn't about religion per se.  Whether you're religious or not, I hope my meaning is clear:

I need to live in alignment with who I claim I want to be.

Minimalism isn't really about our possessions.

So how am I doing?  Have I managed to resist the constant pull of consumerism?  Have I avoided status symbols and lifestyle inflation?  Have I focused on relationships, community, personal peace, and self-development instead of chasing wealth?  Have I succeeded in living by the ideals of voluntary simplicity I wrote about earlier in this article?

To be honest, at times I fall into old patterns.  But when I choose to let go of comparison, competition, and perfectionism, I do better.  Something I read by blogger Kelsey Cookingham says it quite well:

I learned the most important things to declutter are the stories we tell ourselves, the habits we've formed without consciously thinking, and the narrative that external factors will bring happiness.  Now when I make a purchase, I'm looking at what the item is going to enable me to do... not what it will signal to others.

For example, my purchase of new dress shoes made me happy because I sang a concert and stood for the entire hour without pain.  That's a purchase I can appreciate!  I was able to put all of my attention on the music I was performing, and none on my feet and lower back.  The joy didn't come from buying something new, but from what that purchase made possible.

This held true when I was able to buy tickets to take my two older grandsons to the theater for the first time, where they enjoyed a wonderful performance of Frozen.  Both of them want to go again when there's an appropriate show, and my husband and I will be thrilled to take them.  The joy didn't come from the purchase – it came from the experience we were able to share.

Minimalism isn't really about our possessions or our clutter.  It never was.

Minimalism is about recognizing what we value and letting go of what gets in the way of it.  What really matters to me?  Does how I spend my time, money, energy, and attention demonstrate that, or am I kidding myself?

Minimalism helps me discern and demonstrate who I am.  My results won't be exactly like yours, and yours won't be exactly like anyone else's.  But we'll behave intentionally, choosing what to hold on to and what to remove in order to make space for what matters.

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