Happy New Year

It's a new year. Time to go around the house to change the calendars and have a good hard look at the expiration date on the milk. As holidays go, it has different meaning to different people. For some it is very important to have someone to make out with at midnight, for others it's a time for alcohol and a chance to make a real asshole out of yourself.

Most folks take advantage of this holiday to do a personal audit. They decide that maybe this is the year to finally get organized or lose those love handles. It's as good a time as any for a review of values, especially after the nonstop feasting and gluttony of Christmas. Though enthusiasm tends to wane, it really is the only time of year that people openly talk about the way they choose to live, and give long hard thought to how they might improve themselves. I have read somewhere that new gym memberships, sales of diet pills, nicorette, and self help books are at an all time high in the first two weeks of the new year, but that by April these endeavors are forgotten and its back to smoking and driving drunk to get a box of doughnuts.

This new year I recommend to the masses - minimalism. Truly the best way to save money, help the environment, be more organized, stop smoking and eat better is by being a minimalist, even if you give up on it by February. I make this appeal now in the few days that anyone might actually be considering a different path through life.

Minimalism is really just a shift in perspective. The question one should ask is: Do I really need this? Sure we all desire things, but are they, in fact, useful? Look at the stuff you needed last year. How many times did you actually use it? Now that you need places to put all booty that Santa brought it's a good time to consider how many years have you stored something in a closet before the realization that it was obsolete the day it came out of the box?

Minimalism, as a way of living, has really helped me keep my house cleaner, keep more of my money, generate less trash and generally be more focused. I have more time because I am not caring for the things I own. Less sorting, cleaning, digging around through piles means less frustration too. Minimalism is a great compliment to the way you already live.

learn to sew

Very few people would ever admit to doing it, but we have all thrown away a shirt because it was missing a button. My mother had a big basket full of sewing stuff, and as poor kids we were always in need of mending. I recall once sewing a pair of sneakers so that I could get a few more miles out of them. To this day it is one of the skills I rely on regularly that has saved me a fortune in clothes. Maybe I got teased for having a patched up butt or knees, but I would have got teased anyway.

A good sewing kit is cheap, and it usually comes with everything you could possibly need. The one I have now came from a vending machine in a hotel lobby. I paid 75¢ for it. The hardest part is threading the needle, which can be frustrating, but practice makes perfect.

For the very advanced, a good sewing machine isn't hard to find, and usually worth having around. Creative or skilled people can come up with all sorts of ideas for old clothes and fabrics. How absurd to go shopping to find a one of a kind garment, when you could make one so easily. If you think people are going to tease you, don't worry, they'll tease you anyway.

The Way of Minimalism

Moving made me a minimalist.

Chasing low rent was the most compelling cause for minimalism. Unscrupulous landlords would gouge, and I would be unable, or unwilling to pay the increases. Even with co-habitation rent did not reflect value, and I was forced to move under similar circumstances every few months. I unpacked some clothes and other day to day needs but most of my belongings remained sealed anticipating the next move.

When I finally had the time I began sorting the boxes. They had become accidental time capsules, re-telling my moving adventures. It seemed that when I would occupy a space, I would acquire things. When the time came to jettison myself, there was frequently no time to pack neatly, and I would put everything on the floor into a box, and seal it. This happened several times in so many months.

Most of it was saved because it held assumed value, a reminder of a place, a birthday card, something funny that spawned an inside joke. Out of context these things were merely junk, and these boxes that I dragged around the city, up flights of stairs and jammed into cars produced nothing of any real value at all. Keeping these things really didn't seem like it was worth finding a place to store them. So I started to throw things out.

When I was finished, I found that I could not stop. after having annihilated so many stored goods, I could not liberate my critical eye. Suddenly everything that I saw prompted a review of its value. Clothes that didn't fit or were damaged, kitchen gadgets, objects d'art, and broken furniture were among the first to go. After that, there were records, and books and video cassettes that could no longer justify the space they consumed. When the smoke cleared I had an epiphany,

"I don't need any of this stuff."

It was true. The contents of a closet, under the bed, and a lot of basement space, cleared, and I didn't need any of it. There was some remorse. I had labored hard moving these things about from place to place, and I could have easily have left them behind. Feeling pretty stupid, vows were made and I began my life as a minimalist.

Making minimalism into a discipline was a lot harder than opening a few boxes, and in the coming posts I'll be adding a better description of the Way of Minimalism.