Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

This week, we have a great contribution from Mark in Toronto. He tells us how a cross-country move started him on a minimalist path, and the benefits he’s experienced from an uncluttered life.

Mark writes:

Mark

After I graduated from college and moved to Vancouver, I brought what I needed in 2 suitcases. Since I didn’t have much money I had no need for stuff. Over time I changed apartments and had more roommates and was amazed at their junk! In the early 90s we called it junk — clutter was yet to come!

As I moved on, I started buying things for my own place (e.g., dishes, glassware, end tables, CDs, DVDs, etc.). I even bought useless kitchen gadgets — and I don’t cook! I had as much clutter as others and felt that I was a success because of it. I spent a lot of time shopping, buying, cleaning and it was taking me away from my enjoyment of life. I had to pay off the television and the furniture. Everything was geared towards paying off my stuff! And I barely enjoyed it.

Then came the moment that defined me: a cross-country move for a new job! Not knowing anyone in Toronto I had to divest myself of everything: television, bed, pots and pans, etc. I felt torn but then I rationalized that maybe this was necessary for a new life.

I started over and only bought what I needed — a futon and some books and CDS. I was happy. I didn’t have to worry about stuff! I lived in a small space and even had empty cupboards.

After I met my a partner and later moved in with him, I gave what I owned to charity (e.g., futon, clothes, CDs, DVDs, books). Over a period of time I started to feel that things don’t make you happy — relationships do! I took a hard look at the stuff I did have (old school papers, photos, awards) and pared them down to just 3!

Your blog has made me focus on what was necessary. In my environment if we don’t use it, it goes (I check with him of course first). I can look at a mall but now I have the willpower to avoid buying another DVD boxed set.

By clearing out your clutter you become more open to the world around you. I go to lectures and read books instead of park myself in front of the television. I sometimes do yoga and don’t feel like I have to buy more workout clothes! I even opened myself up to the opera!

Minimalism to me means freedom from consumerism, freedom to live my life on my terms away from the Joneses. My partner has his stuff and I respect that. But I am aware of what I need in my surroundings — flow and peace.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Christopher
2. Real Life Minimalists: Jan
3. Real Life Minimalists: Frances

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

Today, I’m excited to share this story from Leslie from Texas: she’s made a remarkable transformation after being an avid collector for 30+ years. Very inspiring!

Leslie writes:

I guess I have always been a collector – as a child it was dolls and plastic horses; as an adult I moved on to dishes, vintage glassware, crystal, antiques, candles, and various knick-knacks of all kinds. It always seemed normal because my parents were collectors too. I love finding bargains, so shopping and decorating were my favorite hobbies. It was such a thrill to find cute and interesting things to bring home, especially vintage items. I enjoyed organizing and arranging my displays and thinking of how people would react when they came into my home – I wanted it to be beautiful. (I loved your article about the “fantasy self” because that was exactly me! I started aquiring dishes as a teenager to use “someday” when I would be grown-up and married!).

When I finally got married, we combined two complete households so we had china cabinets full of vintage glassware and crystal and pretty things all around the house (some I still had from childhood). Our closets were full, the kitchen cabinets were overflowing with five (yes 5) complete sets of dishes, countless drinking glasses, flatware, cookware, etc. My husband was the same way – he collected “guy things” all his life (tools, gadgets, equipment for various hobbies) and he never wanted to get rid of anything in case he ever needed it again. We couldn’t even park in our oversized 2-car garage because it was so full of stuff!

Then earlier this year we decided to downsize to a much smaller home. My first plan was to get rid of a few extra things (mostly odds & ends) and keep my best collections, then I started reading your blog over the summer and your articles were so inspiring… it finally dawned on me that I don’t NEED to collect anything! After that, I was on a roll – posting items on Craigslist, having yard sales, donating to charity… We sold the china cabinets and all the pretty glassware, knick-knacks, books, kitchen gadgets (we had 3 crock pots!), and much more. Now we are down to ONE set of dishes, there are empty spaces in our cabinets and closets, and we only have the furniture we truly need. For the first time in my life I have no more collections! Our smaller home feels very spacious and comfortable, but it’s not perfect yet – the garage still needs work. My husband still has lots of tools and equipment, but he’s getting much better about scrapping (recycling) the stuff he will never use (and he even sold his trading card collection!).

It’s been a long process, but after 30+ years of being a collector, I finally gave up my “fantasy self”, and it feels great! Our home is nice, neat and simple, and my nephews can play without the worry that something might get broken. Sometimes I still fight the urge to shop for bargains, but I have learned to stay away from the thrift stores, and our non-cluttered house is so nice to come home to!

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: A Working Rachel
2. Real Life Minimalists: Jenna Ann
3. Real Life Minimalists: Jesse

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

I think you’ll be inspired by this week’s story from Carrie, who’s pursuing a minimalist lifestyle with six children. Please visit her blog to learn more about how she does it.

Carrie writes:

My name is Carrie. I’m a wife, mom of 6 kids, a homeschooler, avid reader/writer/blogger.

While the word “minimalist” only recently became part of my vocabulary, I’ve always been one. As a kid, I remember my mom taking me shopping, and I would often tell her, “But I don’t need anything, Mom…” She thought that was funny.

When I was 12, my parents sold everything they owned (including a house full of beautiful antique furniture and my Dad’s business), and we took off for Ireland (somewhere we had never been) to live. That experience changed who I would grow up to be. It taught me that possessions really don’t define you or make you happy. Experiences, personal growth, and people are what make your life rich.

Even as a kid, I was uncomfortable with excess and with clutter. It’s only natural that as I became an adult and a mom, that I would continue with the same value system.

Minimalism has enabled me to have a larger than average family without going nutso. I keep our schedule very simple. My kids don’t do extracurricular activities as a rule. They read a LOT. We don’t have cable. In fact I didn’t have a TV until I married my husband (we use it once a week to rent a movie). My kids don’t own a lot of toys. They play together a lot.

Having a decluttered home is so much nicer to me. It really is true that when you don’t own a ton of stuff, you don’t really have to “organize”. With a family this size, things could get out of hand really quick if we were surrounded by too much stuff.

I find that setting limits with myself, limiting my choices, makes me happy. There are so many great ideas, so many awesome things that I could do. But then I wouldn’t have time to just sit outside in the sun and watch my kids play. These are some of my happiest moments. I recently permanently deleted my Facebook account. I felt relief. I’ll miss a few of the people on there, but I can always email or text them and say, “Hey let’s meet for coffee”, instead. I make choices like this all the time – to eliminate stuff to make room for better things. I never accept the status quo. I’m always asking myself how I can make things better, simpler.

One thing I have to work on is not being too frugal with myself. I am working on remembering the difference between price and value. I have a minimalist wardrobe, so I need to spend a little more on each piece so it lasts. (I despise shopping!)

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Victoria
2. Real Life Minimalists: simple in france
3. Real Life Minimalists: Janet

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

Today, it’s my pleasure to share Grace’s story with you. I love the pioneer spirit she brings to her minimalist journey!

Grace writes:

Minimalism for me started at a very early age. I can clearly remember reducing my personal belongings to what would fit into a square metal “Mystery Date” lunch box. I was eleven and my health had progressively deteriorated due to a heart condition. The purpose of my doing this was to prevent my family from using my possessions as a vehicle for mourning if I were to die. Yes, somewhat morbid I will agree, but true.

A cowboy’s life was a model I admired. My ideas of cowboys came from television and movies that I devoured. The minimalism of a bed roll, a saddle bag and the stars over my head were the dreams that occupied my mind when I had to be alone and quiet while others were at play.

As I grew older books about pioneers fascinated me. It was intriguing to me that possessions once thought to be so important would often be discarded as the journey became more difficult. What did they ultimately keep? What would they eventually replace? What did they regret?

Good fortune came my way a few years after I packed that square metal lunch box. With medical advances my condition improved. I then had a future. However, I kept the spirit of the cowboy and pioneer’s minimalism as an ideal.

I have experienced homeownership and all its responsibilities. With that responsibility there slowly grew a whole lot of stuff. Stuff for gardening, furnishing, maintenance and remodeling … Now, I live in an apartment; minimally but comfortably furnished. After 20 years of my spare time being occupied with maintaining possessions, my possessions now serve me. I am employing the lessons of the cowboy and pioneer’s minimalism in a manner that brings me joy and peace. I have also come to respect and include the minimalism of Japanese culture in my philosophy.

The spirit of minimalism has served me well. I have made two cross country moves in my 51 years and each time I have only brought with me the few items that I could carry in my car. The first move was to begin a new life with my husband. The second move was to return to my home state after my husband’s death. Each move I have gifted and donated my belongings to those that were grateful to receive. It’s a gift of freedom to live lightly. Like the pioneer I’ve learned to reassess my needs and wants. It allows me to focus on the blessings of clean sheets, a hot shower, healthy food, a fresh arrangement of flowers and a good book.

I envision that at some point in time my provisions will possibly fit into a saddlebag, but for now I am content.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Christopher
2. Real Life Minimalists: Jan
3. Real Life Minimalists: Frances

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

This week, we have a wonderful submission from Sara, who shares how minimalism has enabled her to pursue her passion of writing. Check out her blog, Life More Lived, to read more!

Sara writes:

Sara

I came to minimalism accidentally. Or so it felt at the time.

I was never a clutterer, but I definitely kept my fair share of “stuff” around. It was after I met my partner, and combined households with her, that I looked around and realized we had too much stuff. My minimalist journey started with a few books on simple living and an intense fascination with the minimalist blogs I read daily. When I focused my eyes on my own living space I knew something needed to shift. And that something was “stuff”.

A major declutter ensued. I began Life More Lived in the first few months, and immediately felt two things: incredible relief from the yoke of possessions and an amazing amount of interest/support from my community.

As months passed and I sold/gave away/donated furniture, clothing, books, CDs, jewelry, artwork, dishes, and everything else unnecessary (which was a lot), a much more subtle shift occurred. Minimalism left the surface and spread deeper: I established a more committed yoga practice, took up meditation, and re-embraced my creative life. I’ve always been a creative person, and writing has long been my expression of that. Suddenly, without stuff to purchase, clean, store, and maintain I had plenty of time to write. And write I did. Last November I began a novel, and almost a year later, I’m proud to say I’m close to finishing (the first draft of) it.

For most of my twenties I struggled through building what I thought an “adult-life” should look like. I was supposed to have furniture. And a good wardrobe. And bookshelves full of the tomes I’d read. And a nice car. And a good job. There was no place for my creativity in that lifestyle. No place for what truly mattered in the face of societal expectations.

Giving all of that up has been an incredible journey. It’s hard for me to decide if what is most amazing is where it has taken me or where it hasn’t taken me. I thought I’d travel more. I thought I’d downsize to a smaller house. Neither has happened. What has happened is a profound sense of well being and belonging in my life as it is. What has happened is the courage to pursue a life goal (writing) that feeds my soul unendingly.

I’ve embraced the simplicity of minimalism—the ease with which I can now inhabit my space and my waning desire for “more.” From that simplicity has grown a profound appreciation for what I have. From minimalism has grown a life that suits me, a life I am proud to live. From an uncluttered home and clean closets to a daily writing practice and a novel. Heady stuff, minimalism is.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Gil
2. Real Life Minimalists: Me
3. Real Life Minimalists: Heather in Texas

(Photo: Katie@!)

I’d like to wrap up the year with one of my favorite haikus, by Matsuo Basho:

Year’s end, all
corners of this
floating world, swept.

The activities and accoutrements of the holiday season can sometimes be overwhelming, and I love the idea of finishing the year with a clean slate.

Let’s take these final days of December to sweep out our corners—of clutter and commitments, of drama and distractions.

Let’s ignore those after-Christmas sales, stay out of the stores, and put consumption on the backburner.

Let’s clean out our closets, clear out our schedules, and cull our To Do lists.

Let’s purge any worries, disappointments or negative emotions of the past year.

Let’s let go of stress and expectations, chaos and busyness.

Let’s slow down, unplug, relax, and be still.

As 2011 winds down, let’s renew our focus on our minimalist journey; let’s ditch the baggage of the old year, and resolve to travel more lightly through the new one.

Let’s start 2012 in serenity and peace, with a swept home, mind, and soul.

Happy New Year!

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

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1. A Haiku Life
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3. Minimalist Philosophy: Doing Less

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

I think you’ll find today’s story from Kris very inspirational! She tells us how she’s pursuing a new career in human rights—and how minimalism helped make it happen. Please visit her blog, Saying Yes, to learn more.

Kris writes:

Hi! I’m Kris and I’ve been slowly minimizing for about five years now, and I made the biggest leap this summer.

Five years ago I was a frustrated lower-level marketing account manager for extended warranties. Today I’m a 39-year-old first year Ph.D. student studying solutions in human trafficking and modern-day slavery. The bug to make this change began when I first learned about these issues five years ago through contact with International Justice Mission. I’d been frustrated for 13 years with trying to claw my way up to middle management and yet still feeling empty. At the time I also had deep credit card debt, a car payment and had just taken on a mortgage. But on becoming aware of this systemic oppression and violent exploitation of the vulnerable in our world, I knew I was supposed to make a big change. I didn’t know how, or to what, but I was going to do it. It was going to happen.

I started by making a financial plan that included renting out the second bedroom in my new condo and aggressively paying off all the non-mortgage debt. While doing that, I prepared for the LSAT and GRE and investigated grad schools because my business career was not enough to break into work with a human rights NGO. I also began shedding my stuff. My debt was paid off in 14 months, after which I built up some savings to prepare me for leaving full-time work during what turned out to be the start of the recession, and I started my MPA at the local state university in 2009. I had made decisions from fear for 35 years, and I decided that this time nothing was going to stop me. I wasn’t going to let the coming of this economic transformation deter me. I’d had enough of having my dreams deterred. It was time now for faith.

During my master’s program I continued to shed possessions. I was a regular at the Good Will donation site, and also sold and gave things away. I was frustrated with still having to keep my car and mortgage and the worries associated with them until after graduation – but during grad school I’d also made my way to Nepal for a human rights volunteer stint and had a marvelous internship with International Justice Mission. Those experiences showed me that I need better research skills for the policy work I was getting into so I began looking at PhD programs. I got accepted to my dream program (miraculously) in April, in a city 800 miles from where I was living, so then I had to start planning how I was going to get rid of the condo and car for the move. After over four years of gradually moving to minimalism, I was prepared to really take the plunge this past May.

This summer I got rid of about 85 percent of what was left of my stuff. I sold my car. This week I finally closed on the sale of my condo. I now live in a little furnished studio apartment within walking distance of everything I need, and I use my trusty metro card to get around outside the neighborhood the few times I don’t choose walking. All of my belongings now fit in the back of an SUV. And I don’t miss any of that crap.

I can now focus on my spiritual life and my human rights work. By the time I finish my four years here, I’ll be able to fit my life in a couple of duffle bags and go wherever the work takes me. This would have been impossible without minimalism.

I am no longer owned by my stuff. I can’t even describe the freedom that comes with that. I am full of gratitude and wonder about the world and the possibilities inherent in it.

Om Mani Padme Hum.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Caroline Garnet McGraw
2. Real Life Minimalists: Sherry Ott
3. Real Life Minimalists: Deb

(Photo: Trostle)

As we gather with friends and family this holiday week, many of us will find that despite the hardships of this economy, we are truly blessed. If you’re reading this blog, it’s pretty likely you have a roof over your head, a warm place to sleep, and plenty of food on the table.

We must remember, however, that others may not be so lucky. Too many homeless are sleeping on streets tonight; too many children are going to bed hungry; and too many people are losing their struggle for survival due to a lack of basic medical care and supplies.

Minimalism isn’t just about decluttering our closets and living with less; it’s determining when we have enough, so we can do something good with the excess. It makes no sense to hoard every last possession (or every last dollar) for ourselves, when just a few of them could make a significant difference in someone else’s life.

Take a little time this week, and consider how you can incorporate charity into your minimalist lifestyle. Donate some of your stuff, or some of your money to a good cause. Whether you decide to help someone down the street, or halfway across the world, help someone.

The impact goes far beyond the items you give, or the check you write. Because when someone is down on their luck, out of resources, or with nowhere else to turn, your act of kindness gives them hope. Just knowing that someone out there cares can give them the strength to carry on, the feeling that they’re not alone, the hope that tomorrow will be a brighter day. It’s the greatest minimalist gift you can give.

Wishing all of you a serene and beautiful holiday!

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3. Happy Holidays!

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words (click here for details).

This week we hear from Tyler, who tells us how the words of his philosophy professor inspired him to follow a minimalist path. His story is a wonderful illustration of mindfulness when it comes to possessions.

Tyler writes:

“The problem with society,” my 64-year-old philosophy professor opined, “is that we aren’t materialistic enough.”

Making this statement in the middle of a senior-level philosophy class was jolting to say the least. He continued.

“Materialism, in its essence, is about appreciating things- items. When I was a young boy in Norway, I had a neighbor who was a carpenter. My parents both worked and so when I got home from school I would often go over to his workshed and watch him build chairs, benches, railings and all manner of wonderful things. He put so much concentration, energy and pride into everything he build. I can remember him now, bent over, nose almost on the piece of wood he was shaving, checking the level and ensuring that it was carved to perfection. It was obvious that to him this thing, this object, made of wood, lacquer and sweat, had meaning. It was, ultimately, never more than a chair or table, but it represented and contained something wonderful. Craft. Appreciation. Here was a piece of wood that was now something to be used and cherished in everyday life. And his tools? I remember his tools. He had a hammer that looked like it was a hundred years old. I asked him about it once and he told me, ‘This hammer was my great grandfather’s. He left it to my grandfather, who left it to my father, who left it to me. I have to polish it regularly, and from time to time, refashion the handle when it gets too worn.’

His screwdriver? ‘Ah yes, a gift from my wife’s family. It had been her grandfather’s. He used it every day till he died.’

The saw? The hole punch? The level? All were ancient and prestigious in lineage. All took hours of work every year to keep them serviceable. Finally, I spotted a set of pliers and, picking them up, inquired what ancestor they had come from. My neighbor’s face sagged and with disappointment dripping from his voice he said, ‘Oh… those. Those are new.’

Last week I needed a screwdriver. I know I own at least 4, but I looked all over but couldn’t find one. Calling for my wife I asked if she knew were the screwdriver was. ‘Which one,’ she asked.

‘Any of them.’

‘I haven’t seen them.’

‘Oh well. I guess I will go buy another.’

That isn’t materialism. That is consumerism. The two are no longer complimentary, they are adversarial. Consumerism says, ‘Buy me. Own me. More more more. Then in a week when you’ve lost me or I quit working, get another one.’

Materialism says, ‘Appreciate me. Take care of me. Do right by me and I will do right by you. Treat me well and I will be the only one you will ever need.’ ”

As he spoke I realized what he was talking about was a life in which you didn’t own more than you needed and loved that which you owned. It is a lesson I sadly forgot, just as he did with the passing years. But I’m starting to remember. I’ve already thrown out about half of what I own, identified the things that really matter and started taking care of them the way they deserve. I thank him for that.

{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}

Related posts:

1. Real Life Minimalists: Victoria
2. Real Life Minimalists: simple in france
3. Real Life Minimalists: Janet