I Choose Less
Since it's not longer trendy to call myself a minimalist, let's just say I'm curbing the symptoms of 'stuffism'.
There. I’ve done it. I’ve decided to be a minimalist. Typical of me to hop onto a bandwagon just when it stops being popular (totally hipster, right?).
Okay… but why?
I’ve been in dis-ease; in anxious panic each time I realize that I have the one thing I’ve been praying for and I’m unhappy.
Realizing this made me stop and ask ‘what the fuck?’. Because, surely, there’s something not quite right about that. I remember how much I wanted to get out of the seemingly impossible situation I was in just a few months ago. I remember how grateful I was for the little I had (and really, I only had two suitcases of clothes and a borrowed laptop to my name - literally nothing else) and how much meaning and intentionality I cultivated in being grateful. And to turn around, look at the miracle my life has become, and think ‘this isn’t enough’ rang all sorts of alarm bells.
So I did my favorite thing in the world - conducted an internal investigation into my discontent (yay self-introspection!).
What I found was worrying, even downright scary. I saw a deep, dark pit of abstract space gaping open just wanting and needing - all the time. I found the source of my discontent: feeling not enough and like nothing could really make me feel unbridled joy. I’d found the center of the black hole that is my sense of never fitting in, never feeling like I belong, like I don’t have ‘enough’ to have a beautiful human experience.
I’ve been stuck in a cycle of endless striving. But for the first time in my life, I asked myself why. I’ve never questioned where my dreams, ambitions, and desires actually originate from. I just know that I’ve always wanted to own my own business, have a beautiful house, a partner (maybe), and do ‘meaningful’ work. And hey, my dreams are totally valid - I’m not trying to shit on things that I think could make me happy here. What I’m asking though, is where do these come from.
The meaning of a ‘good life’
I had to really consider how I feel about the things I supposedly want and need. And not cheat by thinking and rationalizing why my desires are valid, no. I set and projected the life I desire in my mind’s eye and let myself feel what that means to me.
And I was surprised to find that the things I was convinced matter to me were actually consequences of circumstantial influences. Take for example my desire to own a business. To be honest, this isn’t something I desire. Sure, I value mastery. But my desire is to spend my life mastering art using my hands or my voice, to have that mastery impact how people interact and make meaning about beauty.
Interestingly, I’ve always interpreted this desire as meaning that I have to own a business where I sell people ‘things’ that would somehow help them see themselves or the world as beautiful.
And this is perfectly fine - except I’ve tried in every way to make it work and anything close to making this interpretation successful makes me incredibly unhappy. I always enjoy the art of creating and mastering an unknown skill - learning how to formulate body products, learning how to sing opera, and making my own telescope.
The pattern I’ve ignored is how my drive to only create to sell wears me out as soon as I think that it’s time to make money off of the things I try to master. I lose motivation, I stop learning, and eventually, I just abandon the project altogether.
So I’ve been at work identifying ways I can create what I intuitively consider a ‘good life’. It’s charting my own course, equally feeling and thinking about the meaningful ways I can get acquainted with joy in my life.
So now I’m a minimalist
Because I realized that my constant need for ‘stuff’ to fill that gaping hole where passion, mastery, lifelong learning, and meaning-making are one way I’m avoiding the difficult step of inviting joy.
I’ve been looking for a temporary bandaid to help me forget and prolong going after what I truly desire. Because let’s be honest, living the truth screaming out from that deep chasm of emptiness is difficult beyond measure.
So I’m choosing less to make space for the things that will help me create a ‘good life’. I choose to stop working harder to get more money so I can buy an endless supply of weaves, perfume, clothes, and items I don’t need. Just ‘stuff’ that will help me buy my way out of the hard work of being a wholesome human being.
I choose to be intentional about cultivating gratitude and contentment with what I have. To question each time I feel like I can’t live without buying something that seems at that moment life-altering to have. To find out the true origins of these desires and feel how authentic they are to my personal human experience.
Adieu, for now!