Holding on to things from the past is the same as clinging to an image of yourself in the past. If you're the least bit interested in changing anything about yourself, I suggest you be brave and start letting things go.
I wasn't always a minimalist. I used to buy a lot of things, believing that all those possessions would increase my self-worth and lead to a happier life. I loved collecting a lot of useless stuff, and I couldn't throw anything away.
There's happiness in having less.
To me, DIY means minimizing dependency on what others make for me.
If you ask me what minimalism is really about, I would say that it's the altering of values - enter the small doors of minimalism and come out on the other side with big ideas.
I would say that if the idea of decluttering pushes some kind of a button in you, it may be a sign to give it a try.
Whether we live alone or with other people, few acknowledge the presence of another roommate. This roommate is named 'Things' and the space that 'Things' occupies is typically a lot larger than the space people have for themselves.
Unhappiness isn't just the result of genetics or past trauma or career trouble. I think that some of our unhappiness is simply due to the burden of all our things.
Spending less time on cleaning or shopping means I have more time to spend with friends, go out, or travel on my days off.
It's not as though you feel satisfied after collecting a certain amount of stuff. Instead, you keep thinking about what you're missing.
The important thing is not the measurement of how many or few things you have, but your own state of mind and how you feel about the things you have and don't have.
Traditional paintings have few figures in them and value negative space. Japanese calligraphy and brush paintings are in black and white. Haiku is the shortest poem form in the world. These are a few examples of a minimalistic aesthetic in Japanese art and culture.
Living with only the bare essentials has not only provided superficial benefits such as the pleasure of a tidy room or the simple ease of cleaning, it has also led to a more fundamental shift. It's given me a chance to think about what it really means to be happy.
Some of you may think that I'm a loser: an unmarried adult with not much money. The old me would have been way too embarrassed to admit all this. I was filled with useless pride. But I honestly don't care about things like that any . The reason is very simple: I'm perfectly happy just as I am.
We think that the more we have, the happier we will be. We never know what tomorrow might bring, so we collect and save as much as we can. This means we need a lot of money, so we gradually start judging people by how much money they have.
I want to create my own living space and grow my own food instead of paying someone to supply those for me.
In my community of minimalists, there are really wealthy people who work at stock brokerage firms, there are people who are unemployed, but it doesn't seem to matter. We're all really good friends, and we get along really well. It's a very varied and diverse community.
I think that 'minimalist' is a useful label for other people to identify me, but from my standpoint, I doesn't necessarily have an identity as that.
I actually think that the more something is important to you, the more it's OK to actually let it go.
I enjoy challenging myself to try new things, going outdoors, scuba diving, running a marathon. Anything that I have never done before, I enjoy trying it out.
