Embracing Economic Minimalism
Over the past couple of years, minimalism has swept the nation. I read all the famous minimalist books, watched my favorite Youtuber’s give a tour around their near-empty rooms, and even went as far as to try out a “no-buy” year that lasted about a month.
Although I believed in the inherent idea of a minimalism lifestyle, I was going about my journey to less all wrong.
I was using the mentality that less equals more, rather than one of doing more with less.
I was joining the movement for the sake that getting rid of my unnecessary possessions and clearing up my mental vault felt fantastic, but the work I did was entirely surface level.
I wasn’t doing any actual leg work to understand why minimalist felt so right at the moment.
I didn’t realize until well later that it was this sense of independence from my material items that made me feel so renewed.
We spend a good deal of our lives (maybe the entirety of it) being told that to own more is to be more; that it’s normal to put yourself into financial debt for the sake of things you never really need, but desperately want.
When, in fact, one should be able to decide, without the influence of the current economy, what to need and hold dear.
Now, I should say that I know next to nothing about economics, but I do understand the principle of changing one’s economy in the simplest sense.
At its base, the organization of the economy works from a medium of exchange. A good or service for my hard-earned money.
I wondered if I could change the importance I placed on it all, and how often I actually needed to depend on it.
Here’s how that thinking helped me. Maybe it can help you embrace minimalism too.
Are You Carrying the Weight of Your Belongings?
For years, I felt no greater sense of happiness than spending a portion of my paycheck on a material item I’d waited weeks to buy.
For some time, every time I’d look at that item I’d get hit with immediate endorphins. I felt pride in working hard for an item.
I felt joy in calling it mine. But eventually, as it goes with many items that aren’t of actual life-altering importance, that feeling would fade.
I’d have to find that next thing to start the cycle over again.
I knew I wasn’t alone in that feeling either. Almost everyone around me was chasing the same feeling.
When I took a look in my closet one morning, it was like I was looking into a time capsule of that one feeling, fading, shallow, and quite honestly, a feeling that was taking up too much space.
So figuratively and physically, I decided it was time to clean that closet, and that feeling, out.
If you’ve ever felt overburdened or overwhelmed by the sheer amount of what you or your family own, it might be time to do something similar.
By simply looking at all the goods I’d purchased, presents I’ve received, and keepsakes I felt fondly for as a whole, I realized about 80% of the things I owned were no longer serving their intended purpose.
Instead, they were just taking up physical, mental, and emotional space.
From old holiday decorations to a pile of shoes I hadn’t touched in over a year, my belongings were beginning to own me.
My advice? The moment you feel like your space is being taken away by the things that once brought you happiness at the moment you need to take a break and declutter your space.
It doesn’t have to be big. Decluttering doesn’t even have to be significant.
It is what you make it, because decluttering from a minimalist perspective, contrary to popular belief, doesn’t have to be an extreme act.
Take the time you need to make room for you, but try to reframe from making room for the things you don’t need.
Find Ways to Embrace Minimal Change
During my initial decluttering process, I started to realize just how much minimalism anxiety I was being met with internally; not only because I was having a difficult time getting rid of my unnecessary belongings (although I knew it was right for me), but because clearing up physical and mental spaces made my lack of mental coping skills more apparent.
If you’re familiar with the ever-constant concept that shopping is a form of therapy, then you likely understand what it feels like to rid yourself of items purchased with that intent in mind.
But saying bye-bye to a wrong sort of therapy is a healthy move.
I just needed to learn new, sustainable ways to cope with everyday anxieties that didn’t involve my bank account.
For me, this meant writing it all out. Feelings, emotions, and lists. I wrote down how I felt to let go of material things.
I wrote down how terrifying it was to have more mental space.
I wrote down how weird it felt to no longer be burdened by items stuffed into storage containers and purchases lost to time.
I felt unsettled, but the writing made me feel grounded.
Whether it’s taking a walk between a decluttering session or calling a friend to talk it out, find a way to calm your anxieties.
You’re doing your best! Keep working toward that future economic minimalism bliss.
Take a Break From Spending
As I said earlier, I completely failed my “no-buy” year. I see that failure as a bit of a blessing, however.
Deciding not to spend on material items for a given time is important, but highly personal.
What works for some might not work for you. I realized quickly that I still liked to treat myself to certain purchases that I used often, like the occasional bath bomb, a new journal, or a book here or there.
I also understood that spending my money on experiences, like a worthwhile movie or concert was funds I found were well spent.
Make your own rules, simply remember to think before you bring out the wallet. Think about each purchase and its inevitable future.
Will you use it, love it, need it for long? Will you get a memorable experience from it?
Or will lay forgotten in your basement or guest room?
Be honest with yourself and taking a break from spending, minimalism will be far easier than you first imagined.
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Category: Family Finances
