I Tried to Be a Minimalist. It Didn’t Go Well.
Look, I get it. Minimalism is trendy. Everyone’s talking about it. Marie Kondo’s got a Netflix show, for crying out loud. But let me tell you, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I should know. I tried. And failed. Miserably.
It started about three months ago. I was at a conference in Austin, and there was this speaker, let’s call him Marcus, who was talking about the minimalist yaşam başlangıç rehberi. He was all calm and zen, talking about how he only owned 100 things. 100! I own more than that in my junk drawer.
I was convinced. I came home and told my husband, Dave, that we were going minimalist. He looked at me like I’d suggested we move to a commune. “You’re gonna throw out half our stuff?” he asked. “Yeah,” I said. “Exactly.”
First Attempt: The Purge
I started with my closet. I mean, how hard could it be? I pulled out clothes I hadn’t worn in years. Dave walked in and saw the pile. “You’re not throwing out my hoodie, are you?” he asked. “It’s from college,” I said. “It’s got holes,” I said. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I love it.” So, the hoodie stayed. And that was the beginning of the end.
I tried the Marie Kondo method. You know, holding each item and asking if it sparks joy. But honestly, does anyone’s vacuum cleaner spark joy? I mean, it’s a vacuum. It’s a tool. It’s not gonna make you dance around the room. But I couldn’t bear to part with it. What if I need it? What if guests come over and I need to clean up quickly? I kept it.
Second Attempt: The Digital Detox
Okay, so maybe physical stuff was too hard. I’d try digital. I deleted apps. Unfollowed people. Cleared out my email. It felt good. For about 214 hours. Then I realized I couldn’t remember how to do basic things without Siri. And I missed seeing what my high school friends were up to. So, I gave up. I’m back to my old ways, and honestly, I’m happier for it.
Dave laughed when I told him. “I told you so,” he said. “You’re a collector,” he said. “It’s in your blood.” And he’s right. I collect memories. I collect experiences. I collect stuff. That’s who I am.
A Tangent: The Time I Tried to Organize My Spice Rack
This isn’t about minimalism, but it’s about me failing at organization. I had this idea to alphabetize my spices. I mean, how hard could it be? I had 23 jars. It took me 36 hours. And then I couldn’t find anything because I couldn’t remember if cinnamon came before cumin. So, I gave up. The spices are back to their natural state, which is a messy, haphazard pile. And I’m okay with that.
Why I’m Okay with Being a Mess
Here’s the thing. I’m not a minimalist. And that’s okay. I’m a collector. I’m a hoarder of experiences and memories and stuff. And I’m happy that way. I don’t need to own 100 things to be happy. I need my junk drawer and my spice rack and my college hoodie. Because they’re mine. And they make me who I am.
So, if you’re thinking about going minimalist, good for you. But if you’re like me, and you’re a mess, that’s okay too. Embrace it. Love it. Be happy with who you are. Because at the end of the day, it’s your life. And you should live it the way you want.
Which… yeah. Fair enough.
About the Author: Sarah Johnson is a lifestyle writer who has been published in major magazines for over 20 years. She lives in a messy house with her husband Dave and their two cats, Whiskers and Tails. She loves to write about her failures and the things she’s learned from them. You can find her on Twitter @sarahjwrites.
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