I learned the hard way that minimalism doesn’t make you happy
Were we all just lied to about what living with less would look like?
When Minimalism: A Documentary About The Important Things from The Minimalists documentary came out on Netflix in 2016, I was obsessed.
As a sophomore in high school, I knew that I had found my next big thing. The film made me emotional and called me toward a new life.
However, it didn’t work the way I thought it would…
“Do you like what you like? Or did someone tell you to like it?” — Joshua Fields Millburn
I did everything I was supposed to do.
I immediately started getting the “right” kinds of things. I bought five-finger toe shoes to be one with the earth, journals to get to know myself, a tactical backpack that I could carry all of my things in, and a wooden watch because it just felt earthy…and I equated that with minimalism.
But honestly, it kind of stressed me out. I felt like there was some standard of simplicity always right in front of me that I couldn’t quite reach.
There have been a lot of critiques of the minimalism movement at large recently, and at first, I didn’t understand it. Now, I get it.
I see the way that the movement maybe went a little too far, and that we mistook getting rid of things for accepting the right things into our life.
Just today, I was putting some of my clothes away and straightening up my bedroom, and caught myself being self-critical of how many sweatshirts that I own.
Why? Because minimalists, far more successful than I, can live a happy life with only one or two.
When did this become the object of my daily thoughts?
I paused, and looked at the shelf in front of me, and pondered over how much I love these sweatshirts. Two are for things that are slightly less casual, others are college sweatshirts, or sweatshirts for specific organizations that I’m in.
Am I too materialist and destined to live a subpar life because I like them too much?
It reminds me of a character in the indie film with Brie Larson, Short Term 12, where her character, Grace, is looking after a boy in a residential facility who’s been through immense trauma and suffers from many issues. She flies into a rage one day when Sammy’s dolls are taken away because they were the ones belonging to his sister.
“A lesson in letting go”
His therapist called it “a lesson in letting go”, believing that Sammy’s possession of his presumed dead sister’s dolls was preventing him from thriving. Instead, Grace comes into Sammy’s room to see him lying, lifeless, on his bed, with no comfort in the world.
“The truth is, you can skip the pursuit of happiness altogether and just be happy.” — The Minimalists
I believe that the main fault of minimalism, whether it comes from the work of The Minimalists or Marie Kondo (who has since come back on many of her teachings…) is in teaching us to see things, and any perceived excess as inhibitors of happiness.
I’d like to present a different idea. What if these very things, these objects we’ve been commanded by a movement to part with and let go of, could be maximizers of happiness?
There’s a coffee shop in Auburn that I love. I frequent it often, and one of my favorite things is all of the decorations on the wall, and the little shop that they have in the corner where people can purchase souvenirs and trinkets. I feel the same way about Cracker Barrell.
The objects in those stores make me happy — they maximize my happiness and joy, you could say.
Simplicity has its place. And we have far too many things, that we put far too much trust in.
But for Heaven’s sake, keep your sweatshirts.
Joshua Fields Milburn makes a similar point towards the end of his and Ryan Nicodemus’ documentary, saying that someone doesn’t have to minimize their books if those things bring them joy.
I’d like to bring light to the fact that you can get to the point where everything you own brings you joy, even if it’s more than 33 items, or it takes up more space than a single suit case. Even if, dare I say, you own a storage unit, or a shed, or more than one of something you need.
My mountain of books brings me joy. So does my wall decor, and my painting supplies, and my family’s instrument collection back home. Every toiletry I have (even though it often feels like too much) is practical and smells good, even though they take up three shelves in my bathroom.
Every streaming service I have is one that I use and frequent often, bringing my friends and family around for good movies and television shows.
The rich life isn’t in having nothing — but in using the somethings that we have to the fullest of their potential, without guilt.
I do concede that The Minimalists had and still have a lot to offer, both in their books, films, and blogs. My favorite of their points is the following:
“Love people, and use things, because the opposite never works.”
We can love people and have things, as long as we use those things as connectors and tools to grow ourselves and our relationships and our joy, not to hold ourselves above another person because of a dollar amount on our paycheck or the laundry list of impressive things we own.
I’m grateful to now know that I don’t have to be a minimalist to be happy.
I don’t have to get rid of things in order to make room for the joy that I want to feel in life.
The happy life is right in front of me, regardless of what I own, much or little.
I hope you can realize the same.
