The Joy of Less, a Minimalist Living Guide Read Free Page B

we’ve lived until now without it. Our neighbor has one, our sister received one as a gift, and our coworker bought one last week; oh my goodness, are we the only ones in the world without one? A sense of deprivation starts to kick in…
    So next we stress about how to acquire this thing. Unfortunately, we don’t know anyone who will give us one, so we’re going to have to buy it for ourselves. We drive from store to store (or surf from website to website) to check out prices, and wish that it would go on sale. We know we really can’t afford it at the moment, but we want it now . So we scrape up some cash, put in extra hours at work, or charge it to a credit card and hope we can make the payments later.
    The glorious day comes that we finally buy it. At long last, it is ours! The sun is shining, birds are singing, and all the stress melts away. Right? Think again. Now that we’ve spent good money on it, we’re going to have to take good care of it. We’ve acquired not only a new possession, but also a load of responsibility.
    We have to make sure we clean it regularly, as dust and dirt may inhibit its function and its lifespan. We have to keep it out of reach of the kids and pets. We have to use extra caution when we use it ourselves, so that we don’t break or ruin or stain it. Sound crazy? How many times have you parked a new car at the far end of a parking lot, or had your day ruined when you discovered a scratch or dent? How did you feel when you splashed tomato sauce on that expensive silk blouse?
    Then when something goes wrong with it—as it inevitably will—we stress over how to fix it. We pore over manuals or search the Web for advice. We go out and buy the appropriate tools, or replacement parts, for the repair. When we fail, we drag it into a repair shop. Or maybe we procrastinate because we can’t figure out how (or don’t particularly want) to deal with it. It sits there in the corner, or in a closet, or in the basement, weighing on our minds. Maybe we didn’t break it, but simply got bored of it. Whatever the case, we feel a little guilty and uneasy for spending so much time and money on it.
    Then we see another ad, and are captivated by an entirely different thing; this one’s even more exciting than the last. Oh no, here we go again…
    We never seem to have enough time in our days—perhaps our stuff is what’s to blame. How many precious hours have we wasted running to the dry cleaners, how many Saturdays have been sacrificed to oil changes or car repairs, how many days off have been spent fixing or maintaining our things (or waiting for a technician to make a service call)? How often have we agonized (or scolded our children) over a broken vase, chipped plate, or mud stains on our area rugs? How much time have we spent shopping for cleaners, parts, and accessories for the stuff we already have?
    Let’s take a breather, and reminisce about how carefree and happy we were in college. Not coincidentally, that period was likely when we had the least amount of stuff. Life was so much simpler then: no mortgage, no car payments, no motorboat to insure. Learning, living, and having fun were far more important than the things we owned. The world was our oyster, and anything was possible! Now that’s the joy we can recapture as minimalists. We simply need to put our stuff in its place, so it doesn’t command the lion’s share of our attention.
    That doesn’t mean we have to rent studio apartments, or furnish them with milk crates and secondhand couches. Instead, for now, let’s imagine that we have only half of our current amount of stuff. Wow—that’s a huge relief in itself! That’s fifty percent less work and worry! Fifty percent less cleaning, maintenance, and repair! Fifty percent less credit card debt! What are we going to do with all this extra time and money? Ah, the light bulb’s gone on… We’re beginning to see the beauty of becoming minimalists.

PHILOSOPHY
 

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Less stuff =