miss minimalist

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

Today, Kendra gives us a glimpse of her version of minimalism: one that includes two children and a lovely renovated house. Surf on over to her blog to read more.

Kendra writes:

My parents gave me a taste of minimalist life when they packed us into a 35-foot camper and lived up and down the west coast for a few years. While I liked some aspects, I daydreamed of normalcy and putting down roots, you know, having classmates who weren’t my sisters. Then we did all that and I grew up. 

I grew up and married and had two babies simultaneously and renovated a beautiful old house. When the dust cleared, literally from the renovation, I emerged from survival mode and began reading about intentional living. It occurred to me that there were options, and possibly better ways to spend a life. I read A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and realized my life was a story and I wanted it to be a good one. With my husband supporting me, we ventured into uncharted waters and started fashioning our family into more. More peace, more free time, more understanding about what makes us happy.

Our initial purge of stuff was a year ago now. Our minimalism looks a bit different because we do love our 2500 sq ft renovated 1920s house. But I’m comfortable with empty cupboards, empty storage rooms, empty drawers. It also looks different because I love interior decorating, so it isn’t very sparse that way either. But the definition of minimalism that gave me hope that I could fit into it was, “Having only things you use and love.” I love my art, so it stays, but I’ve let so much else go. I love being free from the “rules” that “made” me keep things I didn’t want. I love being able to admit I made a mistake when I bought something and give it away or sell it, rather than trying to make it work for three years. Because I’ve quit denying that I made those mistakes, I’m learning from them and when I do buy something, I make a better choice.

I think the most gratifying moment was putting stacks of totes and containers I’d used to organize my stuff out to sell. Knowing I’d emptied them was exquisite. The success of minimalism in stuff has spurred two No Spend months, a more experience-based Christmas celebration and now, I’m facing down the giant that is time-management with the principles of less. It’s amazing how hopeful I feel for the future, after seeing how much thoughtful changes improve life’s quality. I believe our family’s story can be epic in love-sharing, since we’re learning to dial down anything that competes.

Kendra’s living room

{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.}

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

I think you’ll enjoy this story from Sarah P, a law student from Singapore who discovered minimalism while studying abroad. Visit her blog to read more about her travels and experiences.

Sarah writes:

Last year, I spent 9 months studying abroad in Southampton, UK.

Prior to leaving home, I agonized for weeks over how to compress my life into a 30kg luggage and a 7kg hand-carry. I had a closet full of clothes, a dazzling array of shoes, every color of the rainbow, and bags, accessories and books galore. It was torture having to decide what to bring and what to leave behind. Packing took weeks and was excruciating.

Lucky for me, I was flying over with my parents (who were coming along to holiday with me before I embarked on my study abroad). So I had the luxury of utilizing some of my parents’ luggage allowances too – almost half of my dad’s luggage was filled with toiletries and supplies I anticipated I would need. My mom graciously loaned me half of her 30kg allowance for the rest of my clothes. It was still not enough.

Suffice to say, it was a relief when we finally managed to check all our bags in at the airport. We had exceeded the weight allowance (yes, more than 30kg each!) but thanks to a friendly check in lady at the counter, we made it through.

When I arrived in my lovely dorm room in Southampton, I quickly sobered up and realized how little space I actually had. I did my best unpacking and storing as much as I could. But there was just way too much stuff.

Turns out I didn’t need the 5^th pair of jeans or 30 plus tops I’d packed. Ditto for the extra bags, accessories and shoes. In the end, I only kept half of what I brought over and sent the rest home with my parents.

I went on to have a wonderful year studying abroad. I travelled to 14 countries and made beautiful travel memories. Living away from home for the first time and enjoying my new found independence was exhilarating. I learnt so much.

In short, I had the most memorable year of my life (to date, I’m only 23). And surprisingly, the best year of my life had required the least amount of stuff!

I wore less than a quarter of the clothes that I had brought over. Often, I travelled with only a week’s worth of clothing (budget airlines charged a premium on check-in luggage so I was forced to fit everything into a 7kg hand-carry duffel).

I’m even more amazed at how little I actually needed to make my dorm room comfortable. I didn’t have a television, living room or a sofa. I shared a kitchen with five other girls. I only had one drawer each for food and toiletries respectively. My textbooks took up a shelf, my kettle another. The top-shelf I reserved for bulky files and my travel guidebooks (only 2). My closet held far fewer clothes than I had been used to. My travel bag was perched, ready for use, in a corner of the cupboard. I had one handbag, one backpack and one bag and for a time, one pair of black ballet flats – no choice at all, but it worked.

Home was simple, easy, a place to rest. I had fewer decisions to make because I had less to choose from – which freed up my time to concentrate on living life. It was an incredibly liberating way to live so minimally.

When I came home 9 months later, I viewed my bedroom through new, minimalist eyes.

I spent the next year clearing out more than half my closet, getting rid of 7 pairs of shoes, and giving away childhood memorabilia that I had held on to for way too long. It helped that my family was downsizing to a smaller apartment – the impending move spurred me to get rid of as much as I could.

We’ve now moved and I’m writing this from the comfort of my new, clutter-free bedroom. I’ve always been an organized person, so my bedroom has always been neat.

But now it’s neat and spacious. I feel such joy and peace when I see emptier shelves, half empty dresser drawers and a closet that’s not crammed full of clothing. Two drawers are completely empty. There’s room to breathe.

I’ve still got a long way to go – for instance, I’m working on paring down my bookshelf (I’m a sentimental bibliophile!) – but simplifying my life has enabled me to live far more richly! I feel free and I’m so glad I learnt this important lesson early in life!

{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.}

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

I was thrilled to receive this story from Grace–she’s already started down the minimalist path, at the tender age of thirteen. What a wonderful example for her peers (and the rest of us)!

Grace writes:

Photo by Grace

Hi, I’m a 13 year old girl who loves living a minimalist life. Although I can’t fit all my belongings in 3 suitcases, I have less stuff than my sisters. While sharing a room with my sisters, I despised how they left all their junk on the floor. I have always known I didn’t want to be burdened with stuff. As I surveyed my room, I found many things to give away. Old clothes I never wore? Gone. The things I kept “just in case” were donated. I feel joyful when my room was empty. I am now down to four books, a stuffed giraffe, and school stuff (I’ll talk about my closet later).

Before I knew about minimalism, I was really into organizing and packing efficiently. While I was in my organizing faze, I bought organizers and plastic bins, but I realized that the organizers turned out to be extra clutter. After that, I just tried not to own much, so then I wouldn’t need to organize much. Every time I went on a trip, I would only bring the bare necessities. When I came back from the trip, I would find even more things that I didn’t need.

I’ve moved twice, so every time I moved, I would help my mom get rid of junk around the house and in the garage. Unfortunately, my family isn’t really into the idea of being minimalists. In Organized Simplicity, the quote “Too many people spend money they haven’t earned, to buy things they don’t want, to impress people they don’t like.” by Will Rogers pretty much sums up my dad.

I really started to look into the minimalist life after reading about a young billionaire who sold everything he owned, and he just kept a few extra clothes and electronics in a backpack. I was amazed and thought, that’s such a great idea! (Here’s the link to the article: http://blogs.wsj.com/wealth/2008/05/19/the-homeless-billionaire/) When I grow up, I really want to travel, but only carry around one (hopefully small) suitcase and a bag that holds all my belongings. The other option I see myself in is living in a tiny house trailer (like one from Tumbleweed). Traveling with a luggage, or living in a tiny house, restricts how much stuff I can have.

Currently, I am going to scan all my photos and school papers I might need later, and save them to a hard drive. After that, I’m going to try to convince the sister I’m sharing a room with, to at least read about minimalists and the benefits of being one.

The only un-minimalist part of my room is my closet. Every time I want to donate some clothes, my mom insists that I need it and that I should put it back. I know I only wear a few items of clothing out of everything from my closet, so it’s frustrating that I have to waste space holding those clothes.

As an avid reader of Miss Minimalist and Minimalist Student, I feel inspired when I read about other minimalists. Thanks for reading.

{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.}

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

This week, I’m happy to share an update from previous Real Life Minimalist Caroline McGraw. We first heard from her in April 2011, while she was a live-in direct caregiver with the L’Arche DC community, caring for adults with intellectual disabilities. Read on to find out where she is now on her minimalist journey (for more details, surf on over to her blog, A Wish Come Clear).

Caroline writes:

Caroline

Hello Miss Minimalist readers! It’s hard to believe that it’s been two years since I first appeared here as a Real Life Minimalist. (As Gretchen Rubin notes in The Happiness Project, “The days are long, but the years are short.”)

The past two years have brought many changes for my husband and me, the foremost of which was our relocation from Washington, DC, to a small town in northern Alabama. How did we get here?

In April 2011, my husband and I were living in a small apartment and serving full-time with L’Arche in Washington, DC. (L’Arche, French for ‘the ark’ is a worldwide non-profit that creates homes wherein people with and without intellectual disabilities share life together.) My husband and I met and fell in love there, and community life formed the foundation for our marriage.

Yet while our space was small and our material possessions few, our lifestyle was far from simple. Both of us worked long hours in our intense leadership roles, and I had a significant commute as well. We were doing meaningful work, with and for people we loved, but something was off.

We were separated most of the time, and when we were together, we were often exhausted. And despite our frugality, choosing to live near L’Arche (in a more expensive area of the city) didn’t give us much financial margin.

We dreamed of having more freedom: freedom to rest when we were tired, to be together more often, to put aside tight schedules and stop rushing around all the time. We knew that something had to change.

And so, after laying the groundwork for several months, I made the jump to full-time self-employment in November 2011. It was exhilarating and terrifying to pursue my lifelong dream of being a writer. And it was a successful transition … so successful, in fact, that my husband decided to work for himself in 2012. (He supported us with steady income when I transitioned, and was able to return the favor.)

And moving toward self-employment led to larger questions, such as: If we could both work from anywhere, where would we choose to live? For the first time, location and employment were separate questions, and as such, it made sense to move to Alabama, we owned (and rented out part of) a home. Out went the $1,000+ rent, the stress-related illness, and the money and time spent commuting each week. (True, there were additional costs, like private health insurance, but the overall balance tipped dramatically in our favor.)

We were freed up. For the first time, we could choose how much time we spent working. The move simplified our expenses so that we’d have more time for ourselves, each other, and our new work too.

True, it was incredibly difficult to say goodbye to friends who are like family. Yet even as the move led us away from L’Arche itself, the choice was grounded in the values of L’Arche. To use language from the L’Arche charter, our new life “gives priority to relationships.”

As I wrote in 2011, “The rest of the world may include wealth, power and nice cars in their definition [of success]. Mine includes just two things: the company of those I love and the opportunity to do work I value and enjoy.” Moving has allowed me to live into that definition in a new way. And even as I said farewell to beloved friends, I knew that our move would afford us more opportunities for us to travel and visit with loved ones near and far.

I also knew that, in caring for ourselves with a simpler life, we’d have new opportunities to care for others. For example, since we have more (literal and figurative) space, we’ve welcomed a feisty kitten named Boostie into our family. And as my husband renovates our turn-of-the-century home, I continue to write and ‘dig for treasure’ in people with special needs.

So much has changed in the last two years, yet so much remains the same. And that’s what real life minimalism means to me. It’s about changing with the seasons, letting go of that which no longer serves you even as you hold fast to what matters most.

{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.}

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

Today we have a wonderful contribution from Susan, who tells us how her 1900-era house led her down the path to minimalism.

Susan writes:

Photo by Susan

This is a story about how I learned to start listening to my house. My family and I live in a large east coast city, in a modest house built in 1900 for working people. There are no grand entrances or roomy hallways, and very little storage space. Our only closets, in the bedrooms, are small and shallow. They are only the depth of a hanger, because in 1900 average working families in our city had two or three outfits that they hung on hooks.

At first, the house was almost empty. Then we received my parents’ old furniture, we had a second child, and the possessions accumulated mindlessly. I grew increasingly frustrated with the lack of storage space and purchased giant tubs to store things in the attic and basement. I assumed that if I could just organize properly we could have everything we thought we wanted in the house, but the house was telling me otherwise. When the kids became teenagers, a sense of being crowded came over me often. I felt ill at ease in my home, like I was wearing ill fitting clothing. Things seemed shabby and jammed into spaces not built to contain them.

But I did not want a larger house to take care of even if we could afford it. So I started purging. First we had a driveway sale to sell off things the kids didn’t use anymore. It was an excruciating experience that I will never repeat, but that weekend was the start of a revolution. I took everything left over to Goodwill and start ruminating on what happens to all the excess stuff we get rid of. Does Goodwill really sell everything or does a good portion end up in a landfill? It was an uncomfortable thought, and I became curious about the life of “stuff”.

I began reading green and anti-consumerist blogs and also stumbled upon Miss Minimalist. Miss Minimalist’s posts were like a drink of water on a hot day, expressing values and a philosophy that resonated with me and I thought “this is it, I am a minimalist”. My mindset changed as I continued to get rid of things and rethink my shopping habits.

With much fewer items hanging in the tiny closet I share with my husband, I don’t agonize over what to wear and I am happier. The old fashioned moldings and wood floors in our house are now more noticeable, so the house’s charm is more apparent. Our “style” miraculously went from shabby to charming. My consumption habits went from mindless to mindful. It is easier now to see what we really need and use, providing incentive to keep things minimal. After all this time I have finally unlocked the key to being right-sized and content in my old home! (Until I can go smaller that 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.}

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

This week, I’m happy to introduce you to Anna, who tells us (quite beautifully) how minimalism has awakened her to a more mindful, happier life. Please visit her blog to learn more.

Anna writes:

Anna

I began decluttering my living spaces about a year and a half ago, and have been consciously downsizing ever since. Like a lot of Miss Minimalist readers, I reached a breaking point with my stuff. I hadn’t run out of space yet, but I came to the realization that all of the things I’d acquired weren’t working. My clothes kept me warm and my appliances functioned, but the stuff didn’t make me happy or solve my problems. It merely distracted me from what was really ailing me.

The hardest part about decluttering for me was realizing that for years I’d been using “stuff” to stave off feelings of uncertainly, self-doubt, anxiety, and insecurity. I had been a secret binge-eater in college, and as I started to heal my relationship with food, I discovered that I had a similarly hurtful relationship with stuff. Both were things that I used to distance myself from issues I didn’t know how to deal with; I relied on them for short-term comfort. When it was time to open the closets, I felt like I lived in a house full of broken promises. I was facing a timeline of reminders of all the things I didn’t want to feel, and all the stuff that hadn’t made me feel better. Naturally, it felt good to let go of what I didn’t need, with all the bad memory associations, and focus more on really healing my life.

Now, a year and a half later, I have a deeper appreciation of minimalism for these reasons:

Minimalism prompts me to ask how much is really enough, and to answer that question, I have to think seriously about what my real goals, desires, and values are. But once I’m clear on those things, it’s so much easier to select a material life that actually helps me achieve those things, rather than relying on stuff to fill an emotional void. Just like with food, I feel like I now have a “natural appetite” for material things as well. It feels safe to “stop when I’m full,” so to speak; to savor what I have and feel “sated” by it.

To me, minimalism is a powerful, healing antidote for a toxic, materialistic culture. I find myself surrounded by messages telling me that what I have isn’t good enough, out of style, and out of date; that I need more, and if I just had this one more thing, I’d be happy.

But when everything points to some far-off imagined future in which I would hypothetically be happy, I’m drawn away from what I have here and now. It’s very hard to be mindful and grateful in an environment like that! It creates a mindset of perpetual lacking and longing. Minimalism prompts me to focus on what truly makes me happy in the present: people, relationships, all the rich, beautiful experiences of life. It’s like being invited back into my life after being distracted from it for so long. I have a sense of having “beaten the system,” in a way. I still get bombarded with commercial messages about all the things I should do and have and be. But with a clearer vision of my values and goals, it’s so much easier to shrug them off. It’s so much better to feel awake to a simpler life, than to have a ton of stuff and be constantly sleepwalking, dreaming of more.

Feeling so much more happiness day to day, as I strive to live more simply and with greater awareness, makes me much less afraid to pursue my dream of becoming an artist and a writer. I no longer believe I need lots of expensive stuff to feel successful, and I know I can be healthy and at peace in simple spaces. Moreover, I have more money, more time, more space, and more energy to devote to what I love, and I think more clearly and vividly.

I feel very grateful to have minimalism as a tool to filter out everything I don’t truly need and love in my life, and bring my attention back to the things that I do.

I wrote a much longer piece on processing the emotions released by decluttering on my blog, AnnamalHouse, where I also write about topics like food, body image, veganism, and animal rights.

{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.}

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

Today we hear from Sandra in Portugal, who’s just getting started on her minimalist journey. Let’s give her some supporting words and wishes as she joins us in this wonderful lifestyle!

Sandra writes:

I am a minimalist in-training…

…Or a minimalist newbie, because I very recently discovered this new world.

At the moment, I am trying to learn as much as I can about this lifestyle. I’m already practising it too.

I am portuguese and my first contact with minimalist was a portuguese blog but link after link I got to you and your blog. I’ve been reading bit by bit, post by post and I’m loving it. I also read a sample from “The joy of less” and it hooked me.

But being a minimalist in training is a hard job. Not for me, because I am surrendered to it, but for my husband who doesn’t see the point of it… yet. (Of course I’m taking baby steps but I always find sense in something I read and immediately I think “I can do that”.) So, I struggle for his (the hubby) cooperation on doing tasks assigned on the daily chore table, I struggle for him to get rid of old newspapers and scraps (mine are being dealt, and I have eventually got rid of 6 boxes full of old paper – newspapers scraps, papers from school and college), I struggle for him to finish the shampoo before he gets a new one, or the perfume, or the roll-on…

Everyday I try to organize a different item. It can be the mail box, the kitchen towels or even setting the habit to always prepare the table for next morning breakfast.

At this point I really feel being minimalist as The way to full happiness.

What can one wish for rather than be happy, have time to give for your family, have your possessions clean and organized, not feeling you should “keep up with the Joneses” just because. You should feel you are in control of all important aspects of your life and feel serene about it. But for me being of control doesn’t mean to always be controlling and checking on things, but means to rely things are ok (e.g. there is enough to pay the bills, every item we own has a place and can be easily found, to have spare time to share with family, or even on my own, doing things calmly and so on). Am I right?

I wish I could be a stay-at-home mom but at the moment we’re living on a very tight budget and on my income only. We are a family of 3. My husband is currently studying and learning a trade and he has a very small scholarship.

I do my best to give him and my son and myself, of course, a home cooked meal every night, I do my best to take care of the house properly, but I feel I can improve my skills. That is why I have been interested in this new lifestyle. I want to be a better me.

Thank you for sharing your experience and for allowing me to learn from it.

{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.}

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

This week, I’m pleased to feature Jen with SV Perry. She and her family have embraced minimalism to help realize their dream: living and traveling on a boat! Read about their adventures on their blog.

Jen writes:

Nine months ago, we sold our house and almost everything in it to buy a boat and travel with our family of four. Our goal was to simplify, live closer to nature, and spend time with our children while they are still young and want to be around us. We felt that if we didn’t make a change, we would continue to spend our foreseeable future in a daily grind of work, school, homework, and chores. Brief vacations and other breaks would provide some relief but before we knew it, our young sons would be grown and gone and the majority of our lives would have been spent in an office.

Although some aspects of living on a boat are not minimalist (the need for safety equipment, repairs and maintenance creates its own category of stuff that you can’t just run out and replace when needed), we pared most of our personal possessions down to the essentials. Unloading the house and most of our things was incredibly freeing. And more importantly, while going through the process of selling, giving away and donating our possessions, we were able to focus on what we really need to be happy. For us, it is surprisingly little. Even the children let go of many of their toys without much argument, which is good because they have even less space now than they did before. They also probably had fewer toys than many American children to start. They each have their own room (“cabin”) yet they want to have sleepovers with each other, so they are adjusting to the smaller space just fine.

The past few weeks have been spent getting the boat ready in Ft. Lauderdale. We have settled into an easy rhythm of waking after the sun rises, eating when we’re hungry, and falling asleep to the sound of lapping water and shrimp nibbling at the boat. The days of bleary-eyed waking in the cold darkness and rushed breakfasts seem like the distant past. As we prepare to start our journey, we are a mixture of hopeful, happy and anxious. We miss our family and friends but we can’t wait to start our journey.

{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.}

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

I think you’ll find this story from Kelly quite inspirational. To read more about the impact of minimalism on her life, please be sure to visit her blog.

Kelly writes:

My journey to minimalism started twelve years ago. That was the year my then-husband and I moved from Texas to Ohio. We filled the largest possible U-Haul we could find and still left behind boxes and boxes that would be transported later by my parents. After getting settled in a much smaller rent-house, the book Clutter’s Last Stand by Don Aslett came into my life. I spent a week in a daze as I cleaned out and cleared out. Six carloads went to Goodwill and I felt lighter than I had in years. Fast forward to the year 2007. During that time Aslett’s lessons fell by the wayside and we had upsized houses twice and were living in a 2500 square foot abode in the nicest part of town. And that house was full to the gills with junk. I had also had two babies in that time period with all the associated baby and child junk that goes with them.

When my marriage ended, I decided to move myself and my daughters to something smaller. I bought a 1200 square foot house and, with the help of good friends, moved all that I needed to move in one day. This house actually had room to breath. That was the real beginning of my minimalism journey. I read every book I could get my hands on to fan the flames of it and read related blogs daily. I was always getting rid of things and teaching my kids to do the same. This past summer I decided to move again. Our new rent house is 900 square feet. Even though I had gotten rid of a lot of stuff the previous move, I still managed to leave behind a garage full of junk.

I think we will be staying in this house for a while. But my ultimate goal, once my kids are out of my house, is to build or buy a tiny house that is 150-200 square feet. That won’t be for another 10 years or so. In the meantime, I am always conscious of what impact any item might have if I were to acquire it. Every thing that comes into my life must pass the acid test of whether or not it will eventually fit in my tiny house.

My life is much simpler now than it was a decade ago. Take my wardrobe as an example: In the cold months my uniform is a black shirt and jeans. I have 3 black shirts and several pairs of jeans. In the warmer months, I keep no more than 5 outfits which allows me to have a little wiggle room on doing laundry twice a week. My bathroom supplies consists of a toothbrush, a hairbrush and some sunblock lotion for my face. Getting ready in the morning takes 10 minutes tops.

I have always loved books and I thought long and hard about how they fit into my lifestyle, particularly how they would eventually fit in my tiny house. I decided to keep one nice wooden bookshelf and I only keep the books that can fit on that. I find it to be a good balance in allowing me to have something I love but at the same time keeping the acquisitions in check.

I’m not at the level of the 100-thing challenge but I do love an observation by the “guy named dave.” He says that simplicity cannot be pursued in and of itself for very long since nature abhors a vacuum. We must have some greater purpose that living a simple life frees us up to pursue. I find this so true in my life. I had to focus on getting down to the basic, minimal stuff but then that freed up a lot of space, time, money and mental powers to focus on other things, things that I find are of lasting importance such as my spiritual pursuits and my family.

If I could leave your readers with one thought, it would be to allow that the pursuit of minimalism is not a one-time thing. It’s an on-going thing and sometimes you will take 2 steps forward and 3 steps back. But other times you will make a huge leap forward, a leap to the next level and those leaps are what make it all worth the continued pursuit.

{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.}

Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.

Today, Nina tells us how she grew up surrounded by too much stuff, but is now forging her own minimalist way!

Nina writes:

I want to thank you, as well as your inspiring readers that have shared your minimalism stories. Hearing that other people strive for simplicity, space and a clutter-free life was such a relief! I find continuous inspiration in the essays and tips that you provide on your blog.

Here is my story:

I grew up with sweet, but misguided parents who believed “if one is good, three is better!” We had a somewhat large house, and every drawer and closet was filled to the brim with stuff. Guest bedroom drawers were too full for guests to use them, the pantry was so full that half of the food would expire before anyone could use it, and – this is the worst of it – my parents had a storage unit to hold their Christmas decorations. A whole storage unit. And not a small one. I spent a weekend helping them find things in their own personal Christmas store and was left with the overwhelming feeling of “This is so unhealthy, and this is NOT what I want for myself.”

As soon as I moved into my first apartment, I wanted to have as little stuff as possible. Of course, my well-meaning parents brought me extra furniture and appliances of theirs since they thought I “needed” to have a popcorn popper and a large computer desk. It was sweet, and came from a place of not wanting me to go without, but I had to learn to say “no, thank you”. Otherwise their stuff would overwhelm me in my new home too. My method now is to smile and say “that’s thoughtful of you, but I don’t need it.” And then I change the subject.

Now I purge stuff ruthlessly, have edited my wardrobe down to the items I love and wear most often, and have recycled/donated/Craigslisted my furniture down to the a comfortable pieces of furniture that I need. When friends come by, their responses to my simplified home are typically, “This space is huge!” and “Your place is so fresh and tidy!” No one has ever commented on it feeling sterile or empty. Oh, and even my parents think it looks pretty nice. Maybe they’ll come around?

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