Chuck Reynolds

Minimalism

Zen Habits’ (and mnmlist.net) Leo Babauta said it best – “living a minimalist life has nothing to do with living like a monk, having less fun or living in a concrete prison.” In fact, for me living a minimalist life is liberating. This stems from the fact that I equate being minimal not with a lacking, but with order, balance and yes, having only what I need.

In his book The Architecture of Happiness, Alain de Botton argues that people surround themselves in their ideal image, not a true reflection of themselves. “In 1575, the city of Venice diminished the artist Paolo Veronese to pain a new ceiling for the great hall in the Doe’s Palace… To judge from the ceiling there was little that was not just and peaceful, meet and faithful, about the Venetian Republic.” Venice was anything but peaceful and fair. Rather, Venice was a central slave trade city and frequently enacted war in a spite of revenge. While Botton uses an extreme example about architecture, the theories and ideas correspond and overflow into what we surround ourselves with. Our environment reminds us of what we want to be – encouraging us to move toward this ideal.

To me minimalism creates an environment similar to that of a blank sheet of paper. The possibilities are endless. Coming into a home that is uncluttered and clean is inviting and welcoming. Thinking of the opposite, coming into a home that is cluttered and disorganized, conjures feelings of tired entrapment. When I allow this state to creep up on me and I enter my office, I am immediately discouraged, slouching and tired. Alternatively, when I enter my office to a clear, open desk I am energized and ready to work. I can conquer the world.

Some argue that my thought of minimalism being about order, balance and “unclutteredness” as much as removing the unnecessary is not true to the word or philosophy. By just removing what you have, disregarding everything else, you do become what people fear–living like a monk. For some that is exactly what they want and need. It is not for me. I love my things, my gadgets, my furniture, my tools. I love my things even more when I find multiple needs for them. Even more, I love it when something’s useful life passes and I discard it.

This is not to say that I only buy things that are multi-functioned. Rather living with less forces me to answer the question, “What is this really for and do I need it?” This is the cusp of my minimalism.

While living in a one bedroom apartment, my girlfriend (now my fiancee) and I began a gradual shift to a more minimal lifestyle out of necessity. Our apartment was small and cluttered, which we did not appreciate. Now having moved into a three bedroom house we love how our things can easily and neatly fit in their place. The proverb of our house is: everything has a place and everything is in its place. As time has progressed and we make our regular trips to Home Depot, Bed Bath & Beyond and Target, more and more things that would never have been considered before, because of lack of space, are “necessities”. “We really need a lemon juicer,” she frequently laments. My response is normally along the lines of, “How do make lemon juice now, because I certainly enjoy it?” “Well, I…” You can picture where this conversation goes.

Minimalism is more than just removing the redundant and excessive. It is clearing your space in order to free your mind. I don’t lose sleep over the fact that I may one day buy a lemon juicer, but I fear that step might snowball to the point where I will step into the kitchen and expect to have the tool to open a banana. When I cannot find it I will forego my delicious snack.

Update: Leo Babauta wrote an interesting piece on the “logical extension” of minimalism . While I think he is a great resource to get into and read about minimalism – he is wrong on his points for extending minimalism. You can read my thoughts about his comments on tumblr.