Minimalism: Sorry, Not Quite a Fan

The trend of minimalism would like us to overcome some common misconceptions about its pros, but in turn seems to make the assumption that others ‘love stuff’, are hoodwinked by ads/commercials telling us to get better versions of things we already have and that we all think acquiring said ‘stuff’ was supposed to make us happy. Some of the arguments are thought-provoking, revelations for many, but for some of us ‘stuff hoarders’, it kind of falls flat.

I’ll readily admit that humans in general have become creatures of excess and the argument that we sometimes engage in acquisition that never quite satisfies so we keep buying more for very temporary gratification. One of my impulses when anxious is to spend money on stuff and things. However, clothes, jewelry, watches, cars; those things have never interested me. I acquire tools, personally. Things that feed my hobbies and curiosities, that help me reach into my loneliness and doubt and create something meaningful and beautiful. 

But I’m by no means a minimalist and it would cause me misery. I often run inventory on things I buy and when I realize it was frivolous or unnecessary or just consuming space I could use for something more valuable, I find it a home. I’m a consummate treasure hunter and almost always know who would love what I take for granted. My chaos is organized and I feel this amazing zen going through things that are waiting to be made into something that will bring me and others joy.

I’m not a sentimental hoarder. Sentimental items take up very little space in my room and are limited to drawings given to me by children, letters and birthday cards, a few unique collectibles but they quite literally fill one 6 x 18 x 36 inch storage box under my bed. I absolutely do agree that sentiments should not be hoarded, should never take up any substantial amount of room for things that could make more memories in the future. I have a terrific long term memory and what I can’t remember, well, I can’t regret either.

My clutter is purposeful and colorful and inspirational. I probably could get rid of some of my old video games that I’ll never play again, but I’ve culled down hard copy books to my own books I’ve written and my favorite series. I do have a lot of graphic design books that often collect dust but do become valuable references on some tough or novel projects. At least once a month, I like to wander through and cull things I’m ready to pass along or even throw away. I feel a little guilty throwing away intact things but sometimes I can’t imagine anyone I know who would want it and it’s not worthwhile to hoard things; always saying ‘it’s only one thing’ can land you with unmanageable hoards over time. I have a rule about how long I’ll hold onto things before it needs to go, one way or the other.

But then my dad is a hoarder so helping him manage that tendency made it much easier to not let it get unmanageable for myself. We used to have stacks of AOL CDs because he thought CDs were valuable all by themselves. He still has boxes and boxes of stuff that is just garbage no one else would want. He has a hard time of letting things go but I do help him manage adding to that. I’ve been convincing him to throw away cords to adapters that don’t even exist for current technology or ones that always come with items you purchase. Keep one or two extra, sure, but not several dozen.

Minimalism assumes too strongly that we are overly attached to things that can’t make us happy and that we can’t take with us. Personally I think whoever goes through my things will have a blast. I’ve always labored to cut down on tedious things and I know I have tools that will throw people for a loop on what they’re for. My most space consuming culprits are finished crafts that will either get sold or be given to people in need. I also hoard yarn and many other craft supplies because the urge to create is sometimes immediate and having to wait for shipping or trips to the store may see them fizzle out. I do tend to hoard a bit when I start a new hobby, but that is always a phase that needs experimentation; I know I’ll break things or make mistakes or need to undo otherwise permanent attachments when I start. I might buy a set of multiple size tools then end up getting rid of or giving away the ones I never use once I know which ones I’m comfortable with. Sometimes expensive hobbies require slow acquisitions and upgrades as my ability to use more advanced or expensive options come along.

I’ve had a friend say they never accumulate what they can’t load in one backpack and leave and that mortifies me personally. I like to plant some roots. While it’s nice to pack and go and think of how stuff will follow later, I definitely take pride in the tools of my trades. My stuff would easily fit in one UHaul but I can’t imagine culling my life down to very little by choice. I’d be really depressed and end up spending a lot to acquire them again.

Taking it with me was never the point. I never acquired things to be happy. But the joy of creation is being able to reach into different mediums and pull my stories out in whatever form they need to take. The items are raw materials, never meant to fulfill in the form I receive them but to help me realize my voice and aspirations, to share and grow and give when it’s so difficult to speak or find the words face to face. They’re meant to be contemplated, to make me ask myself how they’re important, how I’M important, and where I go next as long as I’m still able.

Right now, I’m fighting a painful fight and without the option to stop thinking about what I can’t immediately fix, I’d never be able to deal with it. There isn’t just one thing I do that could suffice. Options leave me with absolutely no excuse for doing nothing. I have things for when I can’t walk, can’t sit up, can’t see well, hear sounds too loud, lights are too bright; with stuff, I can travel well beyond my worst days and find a place where the knots in my throat and chest and stomach can unravel. I don’t need to feel sorry for myself or be disgusted with myself and set myself back. When dark and negative thoughts threaten, stuff can blast them away.

I definitely see, in some cases, where minimalism would be perfect. Some people may have been given early misconceptions on money/stuff=happiness or that their own value and memories were locked inside these objects, but for some, the type of accumulation makes all of the difference. Some of us need to learn how to enjoy window shopping or setting some limits we’ve never managed to set. Like with piercings or tattoos, if after several years, it’s still something I truly want, get it. Large purchases, really anything you need to save for or would cause some tightening of funds to accommodate, should come with a period of at least twice the amount of time it takes to save for it. 

One of the reasons I have expensive things is because I’ve always cut out other luxuries like going to the movies or going out to eat; I didn’t have to make more money, I just had to reprioritize in most cases. Many jobs wouldn’t allow hours exceeding overtime anyway.

Another reason is that I have this uncanny knack for finding product review programs that net me things I would never pay so much for but I’ll talk about that very interesting journey of mine when I am no longer a part of those programs. Some have confidentiality clauses and I would never dream of violating them and losing the privilege. Even when I can’t work a regular job, I often do surveys or write reviews which lets me flex my writing chops too. I have some humble passive income in the form of selling a couple crochet patterns so I’m thinking of boosting my crochet pattern designing to increase the likelihood of that becoming more lucrative.

So yes, minimalism would not be a great idea for those like me. I do liquidate and avoid unappreciated hoards and any need to impress others with luxuries I can’t afford and will quickly have little or no value as the next best things come along. I believe my personal habits are something I pride myself on. And while I do hate waste and am sometimes guilty of overconsumption, I try to repurpose or gift those things to where they’re actually wanted or needed.

I do think minimalism is a fascinating concept but I know it’s not for me or something worthwhile to attain. It largely centers on mentalities that won’t make me happier or offer an epiphany for mistaken ideals and perceptions. I do think it’s good to separate yourself from things from time to time; go ahead and test what of your life you want to fit in a bag and travel away from home with. It can certainly be telling when you either come home and appreciate your things or if the excess makes you anxious. 

I guess what always makes me skeptical (and this goes for veganism and other moralistic based lifestyles) is the tendency to almost passive-aggressively or even outright shame those who can’t, won’t or shouldn’t follow suit. Attributing a lack of morals to why you won’t convert makes me wonder what they’re selling. Worthwhile messages, to me, always include disclaimers that show an insightfulness to those who might not benefit so soundly.

My opinions always come with reflection on other viewpoints. I like to show that I have indeed considered other arguments but still firmly or at least stably landed on my position. Many of my opinions do have room for adjustment but sometimes you just have to believe and respect when someone says ‘I hear where you’re coming from but it’s just not for me’.

And respectfully if you think it’s moral to set laws to enforce your lifestyle on others, you’re not only on shaky ground but you’re sinking through it like quicksand. Knock it off. There is no god that casts you to hell for the choices of other. Mind your fantasies, realities, and just try to live a good life doing no harm to others. Be minimal, be extra, learn what works for you.