Less is More

The Minimalist Lifestyle...

I read an interesting blog a little while back suggesting the idea "less is more". This is an idea that I am a big advocate of. I'll be honest and say that I often feel like I could use more money (doesn't everyone?), and perhaps since I am neither poor, nor rich, it's easy for me (in my place of moderateness) to advocate. 

I define a minimal lifestyle as: living modestly. And I define living modestly as: only purchasing/consuming things that are necessary. 

 I realize that only purchasing/consuming things that are absolutely necessary is a bit far-fetched, but I believe that when someone masters modest living, all purchases run through the do-I really-need-this filter, (and many items don't make it). In the same breath, I don't think modest living means forfeiting items bought for pleasure either (such as those items for hobbies, recreation, etc). An important aspect of maintaining one's health/well-being forces us each to pursue a healthy level of enjoyment/pleasure in this life (what a hedonist, right?). Finding the balance between what is necessary, and what is excessive, though, is the secret to the minimalist's lifestyle.

Good and bad reasons to go minimalist...

I feel like it's fairly easy to gather that there is, and has been for sometime now, a pandemic of excess in America. This has led some to advocate for minimalism. The minimalist way of life could, however, be adopted in what I think are two unhealthy ways:

1. To many, it could be nothing more than a trendy fad. If you upgrade your house to be more energy efficient, but you can't even remember to turn the light off when you leave a room, are you really an energy-conscience person? No. You're a wasteful consumer, living in an energy-efficient house. It's like those who read "Born to Run", bought a pair of Vibram Five Fingers, started running a few miles a week in them (on pavement nonetheless), to find out they don't even like running (yet alone on a trail, without shoes). Are they barefoot runners? No. Somebody once told me, "living in a garage does not make you a car". 
2. To those who don't have a lot of money, it could be an excuse to point a finger at those who have a lot. It's easy for me to tell someone else they shouldn't buy so much, or they should give some of their money to the poor/less fortunate, or they shouldn't own such a huge house, car, etc. I often wonder if I'd hold the same views though, if my checking account held more money. To live modestly and to limit purchases to necessity is a very difficult thing to do (even when there's not a lot of money in your bank). I can't imagine how difficult it must be for those who have money (that they don't know what to do with).  

Those were just two thoughts that crossed my mind after reading several blogs and watching some videos on the topic.

I think there are many healthy/unhealthy reasons for going minimalist in life. I could rant and rave about the negative effects of consumerism, compile statistics of credit card debt, over-sized SUVs, wasted food, carbon footprints, blah, blah... blah. Instead, I'll just cut to the bottom line and say that the most healthy reason for modest living is... contentment.

At the core of consumerism lies a lack of contentment... 

It's really an issue of contentment.

For some reason, humans are hardwired to compete. For some reason, this nature of competition takes on the form of gathering "stuff". For some reason, gathering "stuff" becomes the unspoken goal of life. Pursuing this goal leads to chronic discontentment. 

This video was on a blog I recently read...

Pretty cool video. This dude is cool. His house is cool. He talks cool. If I wanted to be cool, I would copy him. <--And this is why the minimal fad may quickly come and go. 


The real secret to living modestly is finding contentment, not joining the latest trend. It's not possible to watch a 6 minute TED video, or read something on someone's blog, and all of the sudden find contentment. I think it takes something more powerful; an experience that shows you life in it's simplest form; one that shows you what's really necessary in life.

This was mine...

A few summers ago I was in San Vicente, Mexico, helping some of the locals there do repairs on their church building. Some members of the church offered to have us stay at their home for an evening. This was a gesture of kindness, and we accepted. 

We (myself and one other guy who was helping with repairs) traveled out to a migrant camp and stayed with a newly wed couple. The couple welcomed us into their home.

While we set our stuff (sleeping bags and a change of clothes each) on the dirt floor of their "kitchen", I surveyed my surroundings. The house was a cement square, sectioned into two rooms by one wall that essentially cut the room in half. One side was the "kitchen" and the other side was the "bedroom". 

In the kitchen was a table, with no chairs. There was a single "pantry" which I'm pretty sure was just an old bookshelf. On the middle shelf there sat a can of tomato sauce, a bag of what I think was rice, two tomatoes, a handful of peppers, beans, flour, and a knife. (I will never forget this. If you want to know why, go and empty your entire pantry, and set only the items I just mentioned on one of the shelves). All the other shelves, much like the "kitchen", were empty. There was no sink, stove, refrigerator, counters, or cupboards. Only the table, and the bookshelf.

Next, we stepped into the "bedroom". The couple offered to let us sleep on their saggy queen sized mattress, which was placed directly on the dirt floor, adjacent to the make-shift bed they constructed for themselves (a blanket on the ground). "This isn't fair," I thought, since both of them had to get up at 4:30 the next morning and work a 10 hour day in the fields. Since it was considered rude to reject their hospitality, we consented, graciously.

When it was time for dinner, our hostess invited us outside to sit around an open fire. She placed a metal lid from a 55 gallon drum barrel over the fire and cooked our tortillas (flipping them with her bare hands). I thought many things, like, "Is there still paint on that lid? This isn't very much food. Where are we supposed to go to the bathroom tonight? I hope she washed her hands." (a**hole) <--directed at myself
She warmed beans, sliced the fresh tomatoes and peppers, and in doing so, I realized that she emptied almost all of the contents from her already depleted pantry. The meal was delicious. 
Needless to say, I had a lot to think about when I closed my eyes that night. The next morning our hosts were gone, and I stepped out of that concrete square with an entirely new perspective.

Is it cool to have a bed that folds into the wall? Yes.

Will a smaller, environmentally-friendly house help you discover what's really necessary in life? Probably not.

I know this:
I was briefly thrown in with some people who lived radically different than I did (and had much less stuff) and that experience is what allows me (today) to have a better understanding of what "things" are necessary and essential for me and my family.  It is a constant reminder to me of what real modest living looks like. When I find myself becoming discontent with where I am, or what I have, I recall this experience. It removes me from the craze of consumerism, and boosts my immunity to the pandemic.

If you want to find contentment...

Plan something like this for your next vacation. (There are lots of groups/organizations you could team up with)