miss minimalist

(Photo: mctroutman)

Yesterday, the property manager of my current sublet told me she’d be showing the place to potential tenants that afternoon. (We’re only here for the summer, as we don’t want to sign the required one-year lease.) I feel awkward hanging around during showings, so I planned to take my iPod Touch to the park for some reading. As I headed out the door, I realized I forgot to charge it—so I grabbed the book by my husband’s side of the bed (Hard Scrabble by John Graves) and took that instead.

What a fortuitous choice! For on the very first page was the following passage (from Thomas Traherne’s The Centuries):

It is storied of that prince, that having conceived a purpose to invade Italy, he sent for Cineas, a philosopher and the King’s friend: to whom he communicated his design, and desired his counsel. Cineas asked him to what purpose he invaded Italy? He said, to conquer it. And what will you do when you, have conquered it? Go into France, said the King, and conquer that. And,what will you do when you have conquered France? Conquer Germany. And what then? said the philosopher. Conquer Spain. I perceive, said Cineas, you mean to conquer all the World. What will you do when you have conquered all? Why then said the King we will return, and enjoy ourselves at quiet in our own land. So you may now, said the philosopher, without all this ado.

Granted, most of us don’t entertain notions of world domination—but I think it’s a wonderful metaphor for the insatiable wants that can consume our lives.

How often have you thought, “Life will be better when {fill in the blank}.” You get that bigger house, nicer car, newer gadget, or hipper clothes. The better job, fancier title, or more advanced degree. More money, more power, more fame, more respect.

In our winner-take-all society, we’re conditioned to keep striving, and striving, and striving for more. But where does more end? What exactly are we striving for? Is it possible to have everything—and if so, what happens then?

Wouldn’t it be easier to just sit back and enjoy things as they are?

Let’s forget the luxury cars, and simply celebrate the auto, bike, train, bus, or legs that currently provide us mobility. When it’s rainy and cold, let’s be overjoyed to have any roof over our head. Instead of working ourselves into the ground for that promotion or corner office, let’s feel lucky that our current job provides for our needs. Let’s stop browsing shops, websites, catalogs, and magazines looking for things to want, and be satisfied with what we already have.

Okay, so no one will ever praise my ambition or invite me to speak at a motivational seminar. My idea of achievement has nothing to do with money, status, or lofty goals, but rather redefining achievement to be not-so-lofty. In other words, instead of expending great effort to get more, I find it infinitely easier to want less.

Because even if we made a fortune, shot to fame, or conquered the world, who guarantees we’d be happy? Perhaps we’d wish for the simple, quiet, humble life we’d left behind.

I have nothing against reaching for the stars, except when it blinds us to what’s in our grasp. If we re-focus, we may see that contentment, happiness, and fulfillment are sitting right in front of us, there for the taking.

To me, that’s the beauty of minimalism: setting our sights on what’s enough, and enjoying life without all this ado.

{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.}

Kaori, a reader from Tokyo, left a very thought-provoking comment on last week’s Real Life Minimalist post. I know that many of you don’t subscribe to the RSS Comments feed; therefore, I thought I’d share it in today’s post in case you missed it:

hi. I’m writing from Tokyo, Japan where as a city we’re having to rethink our priorities in terms of stuff, power and fuel. As you may know, this country is in the midst of the greatest national crisis (earthquake, tsunami, nuclear plant meltdown) since WWII and as I write, tens of thousands of people are stuck in evac shelters with no cash, no home, no job and a dark, uncertain future. Those of us in Tokyo send money and supplies and go out on weekends to volunteer. It’s nowhere near enough, however and it seems like we go from day to day clinging to a bizaare hope that tomorrow or sooner, things are bound to get better.

What’s crushing for myself and many others in Tokyo is that we had let ourselves be lulled into an unforgivable state of complacency. We had convinced ourselves that to work 14 hour days and shop like crazy was the norm and prerequisite, for living in one of the wealthiest, glitziest and convenient cities on the planet. The reality is that there are 10 – count ‘em -10 nuclear power plants in the northeastern region of Japan, mainly to feed and fuel this one, particular city. Nationwide, there are 53 nuclear power units, any one of which could be seriously damaged and leaking radiation in the event of another major quake.

How did we let this happen? The Japanese are natural minimalists; living on less and the desire not to own stuff is embedded in our DNA – borne of a long history of constant civil strife and the knowledge that in a country with zero natural fuel sources, the best option was to live with nature instead of against it. Yet, in the pursuit of wealth and convenience and the need to become a global contender, Japan ditched a lot of hard-won wisdom for short-term gratification. Tokyo has a lot to answer for, but at this point in time we don’t even know where to start. Individually, people are trying to save on power. Individually, many are abstaining from spending and excess. But we’re told that to do so will wreak havoc on an already wilting economy. Ironically, the more we work to try to survive, the more we use fuel which gives the electric company and the government more of an excuse to keep those nuke plants operative which tips the scale that much further to trigger another catastrophe.

Personally, I want off the grid. For me, the first step to real minimalism is to let go of worries over what other people think and to liberate myself from the dictations of the status quo. I’m hoping that the majority of the city will come around to the same conclusion – causing us all to turn off the main switch, open all the windows and see what happens.

I also received a poignant email from Mitsuko, who was affected directly by the disaster:

I am a minimalist in japan. On March 11th, we had huge earthquake in our country. Many many people died, lost their houses, their things, and lost their loved family. Now, we had still rolling blackout, so we can’t use enough electrics. And we have strong fear about broken nuclear plant.
Now, among Japanese, there are many change of the way of thinking. Though we had worked hard, and had bought a lot of stuff, these stuff actually useless when we met such a disaster.
We had latest TV, DVD, New huge houses, but now, everything had gone.
Of course, many people are  overwhelmed by  this situation now.
They can’t stand up to take care of themselves now.
But, many Japanese people found that their prosperity are depend on those people life who live near the nuclear plant.
We try not to use extra electronics, eat less, and buy less.
My house has broken because of this earthquake, and our family had to move new house. We lost many chinas, furniture, my favorite plants. But I can start over, because I am a minimalist.
I hope it will be a chance that many japanese will reborn as minimalists.

First of all, my heart goes out to Kaori, Mitsuko, and the Japanese people—they’ve experienced unimaginable losses, and continue to struggle with the aftermath of this terrible tragedy. Let’s remember that they still need our help.

I think we all have something to learn from their words. In our pursuit of wealth, of stuff, of status symbols, what have we lost sight of? How many hours have we given up with our families by working overtime? How much of nature’s resources have we squandered away on trendy clothes, new tech gadgets, or tchotchkes to decorate our homes? How much time and resources have we wasted consuming goods and entertainment, instead of enjoying nature or participating in our communities?

I only hope that such an event brings us all a new mindfulness—of our lifestyles, our actions, our principles, our priorities.

I truly believe that minimalism can lead us down the right path. Each time we decide against a frivolous purchase, make do with something we already have, or engage in other acts of consumer disobedience, we give a little gift to the planet. Each little action may seem inconsequential, but our efforts ripple out to effect positive change in the world.

Minimalist living isn’t a trend or blog-flavor-du-jour; it’s a conversation we need to keep going. Because the less we “need” (and the more we talk about it), the better our chance of changing the current paradigm: from one of rampant consumerism and resource depletion, to one of conservation and sustainable growth. Let’s stop the mindless work-and-spend cycle, and start to appreciate the beautiful, symbiotic relationship we have with each other and our planet.

Let’s put buying on the backburner, and focus on being instead; or, in Kaori’s words, “turn off the main switch, open all the windows and see what happens.”

Thank you, Kaori and Mitsuko, for your wonderful messages.

(Photo: phocks)

A few weeks ago, while researching my post on areté, I tripped across another interesting concept from classical Greece: sophrosyne.

Sophrosyne (pronounced suh-FROSS-uh-nee, if you’d like to impress your friends) is an ancient ideal involving healthy-mindedness, balance, and moderation. As you can imagine, I was immediately intrigued.

According to Wikipedia, sophrosyne “is perhaps best expressed by the two most famous sayings of the oracle at Delphi: ‘Nothing in excess’ and ‘Know thyself.’ The term suggests a life-long happiness obtained when one’s philosophical needs are satisfied, resembling the idea of enlightenment through harmonious living.”

Unfortunately, the word has no direct counterpart in English, and an in-depth understanding requires a reading of Plato’s Charmides, The Symposium, and The Republic. But if you don’t mind a little armchair philosophy, I’ll give you my interpretation of the term, and how it relates to our minimalist journey.

As I see it, there are three main facets to sophrosyne:

1. Self-knowledge
2. Self-restraint
3. Harmony

Or, in my minimalist interpretation:

1. Knowing what’s enough for you
2. Choosing enough over excess
3. Finding joy in enough

Sophrosyne, then, isn’t about self-denial. Rather, it’s avoiding overindulgence (like doing, buying, owning, or eating “too much”) because it truly makes you happier to do so.

Some examples:

Sophrosyne isn’t skipping the Doritos or a second helping, and feeling miserable about it; it’s eating healthy foods, in healthy proportions, because it makes your body feel better.

Sophrosyne isn’t denying yourself that new handbag/gadget/car, while continuing to yearn for it; it’s being excited to preserve some of the Earth’s resources, or put that money into your child’s college fund instead.

Sophrosyne isn’t giving up your TV because it’s “a minimalist thing,” but because it gives you more time to pursue the activities you love.

Sophrosyne isn’t throwing all your stuff away in a no-holds-barred decluttering session; it’s questioning whether each item you own adds value to your life, or if you’d be happier without it.

Sophrosyne isn’t about choosing moderation because you think you should, but because it feels right and delights your soul.

A common misconception about minimalists is that we ditch our material possessions in some bizarre attempt to deny ourselves the “pleasures” of consumerism. I think what critics don’t get is this concept of sophrosyne: that we reject overconsumption because we get more pleasure from not owning three closets of clothes or a houseful of knickknacks. We derive more happiness from saving our space, time, money, or the planet, than acquiring more possessions.

Sophrosyne isn’t about self-restraint for its own sake, but rather the joy it brings us. It’s living a wise, graceful, and balanced life because we wouldn’t have it any other way.

In the time of Aristotle and Plato, sophrosyne was of supreme importance, a virtue to which people aspired. Unfortunately, it’s been lost in our modern age. Today, our society rewards the big, the loud, the radical, the extreme; sophrosyne, in contrast, is all about quiet elegance. I hope, however, that the growing popularity of minimalism—living beautiful lives with less—will spark a new interest in the concept.

Having sophrosyne is like being a finely-tuned instrument, with all our thoughts, values, and actions in harmony. But it goes beyond that: mastering our desires, and avoiding extremes in consumption, attitudes, and behavior, doesn’t benefit only ourselves. Like the melodious note from a plucked string, sophrosyne radiates out to the rest of the world, helping us live in harmony with nature and each other.

I hope I’ve been able to explain this wonderful concept with some coherence. Is anyone else as enamored with sophrosyne as I am?

{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.}

Back in college, I had a thing for Greek philosophers. While my peers were obtaining more practical knowledge in business, engineering, and the like, I was reading Plato and Aristotle and pondering the meaning of life.

My fling with these ancient thinkers was pushed to the backburner when I graduated, however; after all, I had more pressing concerns – like paying the rent and making a living.

Occasionally, though, something sparks that flame anew; most recently, a reader named Anna. In her email, she reminded me of the concept of areté, and how it relates to minimalism.

Areté, in the most general sense, means excellence – particularly with regards to fulfilling a purpose or function.

The areté of a knife is to cut well. The areté of an ear is to hear well. The areté of a lamp is to illuminate well.

So what does this have to do with minimalism?

When we’re trying to declutter, areté is a call to quality over quantity. Choose one pen that writes superbly over a drawerful of mediocre ones. Choose one gadget that functions flawlessly, rather than a slew of sub-par ones. Choose a small wardrobe of excellent clothes instead of a closetful of  inferior ones.

Considering areté makes us mindful of every object we own – and encourages us to question whether it’s performing its function to the best of its ability.

The vase that elegantly showcases your garden’s flowers? That’s living up to its areté. The broken printer in the corner of your office? Not so much.

A minimalist household, then, is one in which the areté of every item shines forth.

But there’s more to it than that – there’s our own areté to consider. And here’s where minimalism really lives up to the hype. By stripping away all the clutter, the excess, and the non-essentials in our lives, we can uncover our own particular excellence. It’s a process of peeling away the layers, to see what’s at our core.

When I moved overseas, I had the rare opportunity to do this in one fell swoop. I arrived in the UK stripped of my possessions, my home, my family, my friends, my career. And as I sat in an empty room with little more than a laptop, I was forced to ponder what was left. Who was I after all the stuff, all the expectations, all the trappings of the life I knew were taken away?

And that’s when I found my areté: to write well, and do some good in the process.

My areté won’t be the same as your areté, and your areté won’t be the same as your neighbor’s. Whether it’s excelling in business, as a parent, as a poet or a humanitarian, your areté as an individual is unique.

Becoming minimalists not only helps us discover our areté, it helps us achieve it. For areté doesn’t come without hard work and discipline: according to Hesiod, “between us and Goodness [his term for areté] the gods have placed the sweat of our brows: long and steep is the path that leads to her…”

Minimalism eliminates all those things that distract us from our areté – like clutter, debt, and concern about keeping up with the Joneses. Each unnecessary thing we purge (or choose not to buy) is one less thing to fuss over, clean, repair, maintain, and pay for. Each unfulfilling task we toss from our schedules is one less hassle in the course of our day.

In paring down to the essentials, a myriad of worries fall to the wayside. And what are we left with? More space, more minutes, more attention for what’s important.

We regain the time, clarity, and energy to discover our true purpose in life, and fulfill our highest potential. In short – the chance to realize our areté.

Have you found your areté? Please share with us in the Comments!

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