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Needing Less: A Reluctant Minimalist's Manifesto

·554 words·3 mins·
I accumulate things as time passes. We all do, don't we? I know I do, even though I consider myself a relatively frugal person. Every time I've had to move from one apartment to another, I've found myself scratching my head and wondering: how on earth have I accumulated so much crap?

To make things worse, I’m a sentimental dude. I used to keep concert tickets and beer mats stored in a shoebox, telling myself I’d commemorate the good memories once I stared at them a decade or so later. Let alone if someone gave me a piece of clothing that no longer fits. I’d keep it in the closet for years thinking, “I’ll wear it once I lose weight again.” I rarely lost weight, nor did I ever wear that polo again. Sorry, Jessica, for your sweet polo. I kept it for 13 years and never managed to squeeze back into it, because I’ve been enjoying food a bit too much all these years (who the hell is Jessica anyway?!).

This happened with tools too. If I found the need to use a screwdriver once, why wouldn’t I just buy the whole toolbox? At the end of the day, statistically speaking, I’ll end up using any tool in the box again, perhaps next year, maybe. You can guess how many times I actually used any tool again…

The things you own end up owning you

So what then? I need to declutter, because “ain’t nobody got time for moving all that.” One thing that works for me when I have to let go of things that evoke memories is to take pictures of them before I do. This way I can declutter and still recreate the same nostalgia by looking at the pictures. Granted, it’s not exactly the same feeling I was yearning for, but at least I know it hasn’t been committed to oblivion once I get rid of the item. It makes letting go a bit easier while I declutter. Win-win!

So how can I avoid ending up in the same situation again? Maybe by letting stuff that’s lying around unused linger in a box for a while. If I don’t reach for it in, let’s say, 6 months or a year, that probably means it isn’t needed and it can go. Another approach is to only buy a new item once you’ve made room for it, limiting myself to a fixed space or number of items. Only buying clothes that fit in the closet, a fixed number of hangers, that sort of thing.

This could apply to non-material things as well. How many games do I have in my Steam library that I’ve never played? Hell, I don’t even play video games! Why did I buy Age of Empires at a 95% discount if I haven’t touched it? (Nostalgia. Nostalgia is the answer.)

Maybe the key to avoiding hoarding is to restrict my options and stick with what I already have, really delve into it, enjoy it as much as possible, before getting or replacing it with something new. Maybe “needing less”, simplying my life and being content with what I already have is the way to go. Buddhists know a thing or two about this… Alright then! Let me swipe my stream of consciousness cape and fly away, swoooosh.

Stream of consciousness
Stream of Consciousnes, illustrated by John Avon, WotC