Magnifying Your Money

Where I call home, we have people who pay $10,000 for a snowmobile, so they can spend $400 per month on fuel while they tear around the countryside dressed in insulated snowsuits (to keep out the cold) for three months a year in minus 30 weather.  Then, in the summer, they skip across Lake Winnipeg for another three months of the year in $25,000 boats, spending $400 per year on dock privileges and another $1,200 on fuel.  To get their favourite toys where they want, they haul them around in $55,000 trucks, spending $800 per month on fuel and $300 per month on insurance.  But they also complain about being poor!

The problem with this incongruity is that they may be correct.  Poor is a relative state of mind.  I was raised in a household where the annual income never exceeded $3,800 in any year, and averaged $1,500-2,000.  Yet, we were not poor.  I had the most wonderful Huck Finn childhood.  Around us, the rich families earned $12-15,000 per year.  The rest of our province – hell, the rest of our country – branded those elite wealthy of our community as poverty-stricken.  Of course, our province was officially listed by the rest of Canada as one of the half-dozen “have-not” provinces in the dominion.  But wouldn’t the entire population of Haiti think they were in Paradise if they each earned $1,500 per year?  Yes, poverty and wealth are relative.

The issue of wealth really has nothing to do with money.  It has to do with quality, priorities and preferences. Quality, like wealth, is not defined objectively, either.  Instead, the essence of quality is the purpose intended of an item or event versus the cost (money or effort inputted) of that item.  A $1 spatula, intended to be used twice at a family barbeque, may have more relative quality than a $15 platinum spatula, used ten times.  Priorities, again, are subjective, and are determined by evaluating cost, benefit and urgency.  A twenty-five year-old probably will value an $85 concert ticket for his favourite band over the $85 invested at 5% interest and used as retirement money, even though that $85 would be worth $570 by the time the person turned 65.  Preferences require a personal consideration, as well.  The same twenty-five year old may value his guitar at $300 and his band concert ticket at $85, but a chance to have a guitar signed by the band bass guitar player may be worth more than the sum of the two; many times more.  I prefer red wine to white, even though they are priced equivalently.  My red wine, the twenty-five year old’s signed guitar and the barbeque host’s $1 spatula may each represent a form of wealth.

Having presented my case for the idiosyncratic definition of wealth versus poverty, my own interpretation of how to become wealthy without money may well be an easy case to make.  The synopsis of this concept is that we can find the money for almost anything that is truly important to us and that all we need to do is pare down to the core of what we find to be important to us, in order to slough off the excess of what is not vital.

Let me take a sharp right turn in this conversation.  One of the recent hot political topics is the 99% versus the 1% in the USA , and the debate over the disparity in relative earnings of the top 1% of income earners against the bottom 99%.  Achieving what we 99 percenters want, for the most part, may be accomplished simply by uncovering an extra 2% of disposable income.  We may not be able to build a $12m mansion, but, after we complete our economic soul-searching, find our priorities and establish our preferences, we can attain our own personal definition of wealth.

I will discuss how to free up another five percent on your food budget, 10% on your clothing and toiletries, 5-10% on your household upkeep, 10-20% on gifts, and so on.  Perhaps you, too, would like your own snowmobile or boat, or like to enjoy the winter in a tropical climate.  Perhaps you would like to make a difference to the environment or global poverty issues.  This, too, may be possible.  Simply, we will redefine wealth, and show you how you already have the capacity to be richer than you thought possible.

Minimalism In The Big City

Voluntary simplicity and minimal living have great cachet in today’s fragile economic times.  Frugal living is nothing new, and simple living has bee the mainstay of many environmentally aware people for decades.  However, the concept has not gained widespread acceptance for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is the tendency to look to rural living or escaping from the “big city”  standards of living as the primary technique for achieving a simple lifestyle.  Yet, living minimally actually is easier to undertake in urban centres, even though the social pressures to conform to more materialistic lifestyles are significant.

Living with less is the primary focus of this lifestyle, but, in truth, the most gratifying aspect of cutting back on frills is the ability to focus on the most important aspects of our lives.  That is unique to each of us, yet proponents of the way of living too often urge us to adopt their own perspectives and interpretations of simple living.   It is far from an accurate or satisfying approach.

My wife and I opted to live in a yurt, off the grid, for several years.  However, I would never advocate that everyone else who wants to embrace voluntary simplicity move to a rural environment, live off the grid or build their own yurt.  It was our personal preference.

Other acquaintances have employed a more basic approach to living in the city, without any difficulty and with a lot of enjoyment.

In the city, one has greater access to options than in the country, and greater opportunities to employ alternative strategies to reduce ownership while increasing enjoyment of assets and activities.

One of the greatest materialistic and economic burdens is the automobile.  Yet, any owner will tell you that the car is essential to daily life.  There are several options, however, to reduce reliance on personal ownership of a vehicle in the city.  While public transportation is the most frequently cited substitute, other alternatives include “car sharing” (where owners either opt for specific times of the day or days of the week to use a shared vehicle),  commuter vehicles (mopeds, etc), bicycles, weekend vehicle rentals (or on-demand rentals) and seasonal leasing.

Of course, to reduce the need for a vehicle, simply either move closer to work or search for a job closer to home!

In the 1970s, many young people (most often, young men) cut housing costs by sharing a house.  The modern-day extension of this concept is for homeowners who wish to cut housing costs to lease out rooms or share the house with other renters.

In the vein of shared housing, consider sharing other entertainment assets.  On average, a video or DVD is viewed fewer than three times, yet millions of us buy and store vast collections of movies.  Similarly, print books gather dust on the shelves after one or two readings.  Why not develop an exchange program with friends, passing these movies, CDs and books or magazines among the members of the group.  Lower cost, greater reach of each piece of entertainment!  Even many e-books can be shared or “loaned” on Amazon and other e-book vendors.  Hundreds of thousands of free songs and books are available, legally.

Inexpensive entertainment can become free entertainment, if you opt for “open house” days at local zoos, art galleries, museums and even local high school drama productions.  In summer, most cities offer myriad free entertainment, including bands, dance groups and theatre.

Many places offer discounts for groups of six or more people.  Inquire as to whether the entertainment venue that you wish to visit will provide a bulk rate, and then arrange for a group outing.

Weekly visits to restaurants form the backbone of the food service industry.  However, home-based parties provide a much more relaxed atmosphere.  Consider arranging for a regular rotation of hosted dinner parties (e.g. each member of a group of eight hosts once every two months).   

There are hundreds of ways to minimize costs while simplifying your life in the big city.  Most rely on the principle of owning less, or getting more mileage out of each possession.  Be creative, and the need to own will become less of an addiction, or even a craving.  At the same time, you will find that your budget dollars last much longer!

Labelling Minimalism, Voluntary Simplicity, Simple Living and Frugal Lifestyles

The most significant problem with labels such as minimalist, living simply, voluntary simplicity or frugal living is that the categorizing itself is purely subjective.  A minimalist may eschew all possessions, or focus on a few premium pieces.  Voluntary simplicity suggests that one can acquire anything he wants, but opts for a Spartan existence. Frugal lifestyles seem to imply that the subject lives “on the cheap” with everything.  Living simply, too, evokes images of backwoods, back-to-the-earth survivalism.  Yet, each may describe the same lifestyle.  Rather than attempting to label, it is easier to visualize the concept of selective possession, and view true minimalism as a way of filtering out the excesses.

I, for example, own few material possessions, live in a yurt and often harvest wild plants.  Yet, far from being bereft of money or liquid assets, we own a newer Prius, holiday three or four times each year in exotic or far-flung locales and live a life free of worry about finances.  Our choices are the envy of many friends, yet are options available to anyone who wishes to prioritize his life similarly to us.  We do not measure ourselves by what we own, but how we live.  We own few tangibles, yet also own a library of memories and pleasurable moments.

How many of us, though, are mentally and financially prepared to make the sacrifices that allow us to make choices focused on voluntary simplicity?  A simple test will reveal our capacity to not only adapt, but to embrace this alternative way of living.  Oddly, the first time I tested myself using this simple strategy, I felt significant stress and anxiety – a little like being lost, alone and in a strange country.

 Choose a mid-week day for your trial. Leave home without your cash, credit or debit cards, and no means to access them.  If you take the bus or subway to work, carry the tokens essential for a trip to and from work, nothing more.  No coffee money, no gift cards for restaurants and so on.  If possible, leave your cell phone at home, and, under no circumstance use it to access a friend’s support or make purchases.  Sounds simple, right?  Almost certainly, the minute you are isolated from any means of funds to make spontaneous purchases, you will begin to go through a withdrawal, regardless how minor.  Yet, do we really need that morning latte, the afternoon drink, the chance to make an impulse buy?  A mere day of deprivation will reveal just how essential these comfort buys are to you, and whether you are emotionally ready to embrace a minimalistic lifestyle wholeheartedly.

That one day was tough?  Now set yourself up for three days, or a week. 

My first test, predictably, found me longing for my daily coffee fix, and wondering what I would do if a crisis occurred.  The fact that no such dilemma had confronted me for months (or perhaps years) prior was not material.  The “what ifs” drove my thinking for much of that day.  However, at the end of the day, I discovered that I was not embracing my return to materialism, but was, instead, exhilarated by my newly found freedom.  I have always been a spendthrift or a tightwad, depending upon the moment and the mood.  For years, I carried upwards of four to six thousand dollars cash in my pockets, and my low-limit credit card as backup.  Now, I carry no credit cards, no debit cards, and rarely have more than fifty cents in my pocket.  Do I long for the days of superfluous cash?  Hardly. 

The measure of whether you, too, are suited to involve yourself in a life of voluntary simplicity  really is whether you fear the lack of possessions or love the thrill of attempting to discard all of the excess you own.  In order to adopt this new way of viewing your possessions, you need to adopt a new way of viewing your life.  Is your life defined by the moments of pleasure you get from all of life, or is it defined by the status you feel that you acquire by owning and displaying material items?  Each of us finds our oasis of enjoyment in life uniquely, and the owner of a $450,000 sports car or a $3,000,000 painting is no less entitled to enjoy life his way as you are to choose a more focused yet Spartan way of living.  The labels attached to materialism or minimalism do not define you or your priorities.  You define, by the route you choose.  A minimalist simply chooses to cozy up to fewer possessions, and more moments.  Yet, even each minimalist is uniquely different from the next, regardless of the label attached.

Of All The Most Important Things in Life, The Most Important Is Commitment To Others

Ask ten people what they consider to be the most important thing in life, and you may well generate ten different concepts of essentials.  However, explore those ten answers in more depth, revise the scenario to include the possibility of being isolated from human contact, and the critical concern that those respondents will come up with is that a specific person would be the most essential element to be included in that existence. 

Human beings are, like many beasts of the wild, wired to need social contact.  For some, that contact may be minimal, but all of us need interaction.  Does that mean that we view others as vital, or are we so completely narcissistic that we view fellow man as nothing more than a need to make our life complete? 

Regardless of why we need people with whom to interact, the stimulation that man provides for man completes a significant component of how we view ourselves. As far back as 1943, psychologist Abraham Maslow postulated that the need for belonging, love, friendship and human interaction neared the base of his hierarchy of needs, just above the need for safety.

The male of the species has been bound, it seems, to man’s best friend – the dog.  While our connection to this four-legged friend undoubtedly offers something psychologically satisfying to humans, it lacks the completeness of human to human involvement.  The connection fulfills, on the surface, the need to have someone, or something else, understand us.

Gang membership, and, in turn, gang initiation, draws on the desire to belong, and to be involved in something that sees us, individually, as something special. While, superficially, gang members appear to lose that individuality, they do view themselves, in fact, as disparate and unique from the rest of the world, or the rest of the neighbourhood.

There may be precious little difference between the desire to be a gang member and the desire to belong to an elite club, or a segment of society that has riches to flaunt.  Both say to the initiate, pledge or member, “You are part of something special and unique, and therefore, you, too, are unique.”

The idea of looking to be a part of something that someone else cannot be a part of is coloured with liberal dollops of narcissistic personality.  Yet, is it wrong?  And how is it different, for example, from seeking to find that special aspect or part of our lives that fulfills us? 

I have chosen a minimalistic way of life.  Does eschewing material acquisition make be the antithesis of narcissistic?  Hardly.  I choose this lifestyle specifically because I feel that I want to focus, not on frills, but on fewer, but more significant benefits and luxuries in my life.  To simply forfeit things for the sake of forfeit gains neither the minimalist or society at large anything.  It is akin to being a lowly carrion-eater, and choosing to ignore the carrion that it finds, in case someone else might come upon it and want it.

When I began my journey toward voluntary simplicity, and opted to focus on fewer, but more significant things in my life, I had not contemplated the philosophical dilemma of choosing specifically what the most important thing in my life would be.  I had a concept of things and experiences that would be more significant to me than others, but had not established an absolute priority.  That changed, dramatically, this week.

On Tuesday, my wife awoke, drenched in sweat, breathing shallowly, experiencing numbness on her right side, and thoroughly nauseated.  Within seconds, I had her in the car, heading toward the hospital.  Driving as quickly as I could from our isolated home toward the local hospital, I called 911, and was escorted through  the protocols as I rushed to intercept the dispatched ambulance.  When I determined that I could make it closer to the hospital, rather than park on the highway and await the emergency vehicle, I became quite belligerent with the dispatcher who wanted me to be in an identifiable location for the EMS drivers.  My anger increased as the seconds passed, and my wife’s symptoms worsened.

Ultimately, the ambulance arrived, my wife was rushed to another hospital thirty miles distant (where better diagnostics could be conducted), and her impending critical incident was averted.  I am very pleased to say that, while she was close to a severe crisis, she has recovered fully, thanks to the speedy response of the EMS team and the skills and dedication of the hospital staff.

However, what I learned was that all of the important things that I had casually itemized in recent years truly were minimal in relation to the one important thing in my life: the valued relationship and love affair that I have with Janice.  I learned many valuable lessons, but the most vital lesson learned is that the most important thing in everyone’s life should not be a thing at all, but a feeling:  the feeling that you have for someone important in your life.  For many of us, that someone may not even be human, but a pet or animal pal.  The most important “non-thing,” even for us minimalists, should be a feeling that has its basis in narcissism, but ultimately ends in completely submerging our own wants and desires in favour of the needs of another.  Call it love, or call it selflessness.  Call it what you want.  The most important thing in life is to place all things behind the commitment to another living being.

Minimal Living Provides Opportunity To Spread Wealth

If minimalism or voluntary simplicity is about living with less, then the obvious corollary to the concept of minimal living is that such a frugal lifestyle will open up a surfeit of resources for other uses. I have discussed in many of my other articles that my minimalistic focus is toward enjoying the newly filtered aspects of life more thoroughly by de-cluttering my environment.
However, I have no desire to relinquish the pleasure that I gain from productive work. Thus, while I free up time to enjoy more targeted pleasures by eliminating redundancies and excesses, I also free up money.
Therein is one of the real bonuses of simple living: the ability to use surplus income for purposes that I find worthy; namely, a variety of charitable causes.
For instance, I have revived a cooperative housing project initiative that will enable those people who may not be able, otherwise, to afford home ownership, to engage in a strategy to purchase their individual homes through a group buying initiative. With my surplus free time and, fortunately, surplus income due to my frugal living approach, I am able to give back in areas of my own choosing.
Perhaps many aspiring minimalists are undertaking this new lifestyle because of budget constraints, or environmental concerns, or simply because of social conscience. Regardless, the new freedom that one discovers as priorities are rearranged to suit the minimalistic approach allow for more freedom to be charitable. It is often an unexpected frill that flowers from one’s new lifestyle.
Psychologists almost universally agree that a great contributor to unhealthy stress is the lack of choice. By freeing resources, by being less reliant on material success or need, a person is afforded a greater freedom to choose what is important individually. It is true, however, that when a person chooses to “ cut to the bone” on luxuries, and cuts the reserves that provide a “soft cushion” in times of financial hardship, a degree of stress results. The stress of facing a short-term bout of belt tightening on a frugal budget is far from the stress, though, than the stress of financial crisis when one is burdened with enormous monthly expenses. By trimming overhead, you open the door for more choices.
It is ironic that the greatest contributors to charities, per dollar earned, and the greatest number of volunteer hours committed are given by those people who live in more modest communities, states or provinces, and that those most likely to give in a crisis are those that have experienced a crisis of their own.
By entering the world of modest living through voluntary simplicity, a person almost automatically is drawn toward charity, volunteerism and community service, and, in turn, reaps the enormous benefit of reaching out to others.
As you contemplate your foray into minimal living, you may want to set out a template, or set of objectives, and include in that template the anticipated or sought-after benefits (as well as drawbacks). Work into your new budget an allowance for both time and money given to those in need, and establish that allowance as a priority. Simply by laying out, concretely and publicly, your intention to use your newly discovered freedom to benefit others, you will discover that your focus on what is significant in life alters dramatically. Again, it is an established psychological principle that, when a person publicly commits, even in a modest way, to a position or goal, he more adamantly defends and works toward that position in the future. Think, for example, of Weight Watchers or AAA meetings, where a public statement of commitment is used to drive dedication to an objective.
Consider that, as you gain freedom from stress and financial or material dependence for yourself, you also are opening the door for a more altruistic you. Go minimal, but give it your maximum effort!

The Minimalist Diet - Maximum Benefit From Minimal Ingredients

The majority of those who embrace the minimalist concept of living focus on their material assets, and relegate other aspects of their lives to secondary and tertiary status in the adopted lifestyle. Others focus on the frugality of one’s lifestyle, adorning economical living with minimal living. Some, again, opt to equate minimalism and environmentalism, with only modest justification.
Minimalism is a composite lifestyle, adopting numerous attributes from other approaches to interacting with one’s world, living life on a budget, and yet incorporating a love of luxury with a desire for simplicity. This is the way of fine art: remove the clutter around a feature piece, in order to focus more fully on the pleasure that that specific item exudes.
We, as minimalists, choose to de-clutter our surroundings and our mind, in order to appreciate the simplicity of living without that bric-a-brac. It is a relatively easy process. However, while we feed our soul, we ignore physical nourishment as it is impacted by our minimal lifestyle.
One of the tenets of simple living relative to simple eating is to focus, as in fine art, on one or two feature items.
For example, my wife and I love spicy, ethnic foods. Our favourites include Asian foods, from Indian to Chinese. However, on occasion, we crave a simple, more bland palate, such as simple fish and rice or chicken and noodles or potatoes. Since we also concern ourselves with healthy foods, we work with those key items (salmon & sea fish, green vegetables, fresh fruits, and an abundance of healthy nuts and grains). Simple recipes often require raw, fresh items.
Most people react predictably. Yuckk! Nuts & berries. Raw vegetables. Bland starches. That attitude is misplaced and misdirected. Working with the simplest of ingredients, a marvellous colour of flavour can be created.
We take our minimal approach further, by harvesting wild herbs and culinary plants from the wild, throughout the year. This cuts costs, while improving the diversity of diet.
But even with a minimum of spices and base ingredients, a host of meals can be prepared from very simple food options.
Let us look at a simple five pound ham, bone in. We trim out the bone, remove much of the fat, and set this aside, to be used last. On Day 1, we slice a thick ham steak, poached in water with tomato, oregano, mustard, ginger and garlic. It is our meal’s centrepiece. On Day 2, we slice a smaller slice, dice it, mix it with curry paste and ginger, toss in chopped peppers and onions and sautee it. On Day 3, we take another slice, dice it and mix it with onion, pepper, lots of garlic, and chopped potato and yam. Cooked in olive oil. On Day 4, the second-to last slice is cut thinly, wrapped around goldenrod leaves and sliced apple and peaches, then baked. Day 5, we use the remnants and leftovers to make a stew, adding the odds and ends left over from the earlier meals. Five meals cost us less than $12.
Of course, five consecutive days of the same meat, albeit with radically different tastes and textures, can become overwhelming. To alleviate the potential taste doldrums, we will do the same with a few pounds of fish, or chicken, achieving a wide array of taste experiences, while using a minimum amount of ingredients. In this manner, we are able to take advantage of seasonal sales on meat, as well as seasonal availability of wild herbs and domestic garden produce.
Simple living does not require relinquishing variety. In fact, living simply can afford us the opportunity to explore unique ways to get the most mileage out of every item, every day, while wringing the last drop of living out of each moment. Can we do anything less?

Books Versus E-Books

A dieter’s greatest scourge is temptation. That luscious chocolate-encrusted strawberry croons our names until we respond. That succulent dessert begs to be devoured.
A minimalist diet, unfortunately, has the same nemesis. Temptation draws us whenever we deprive ourselves of those things that we have elevated to the status of delightful. Minimalism, though, holds that “doing without” is the epitome of success.
Since I chose the minimal lifestyle, the temptation imp has stood in my way frequently, and I have been compelled to choose what really is significant in my daily life. Reading is one of those essentials.
Yet, I am “old school;” some say, a dinosaur. I love the feel, the heft, the connection to printed and bound reading materials. Part of the joy of reading a good book is to collapse into a comfortable chair, or sprawl on a lush lawn with an engrossing book in my hands. It is a route to losing the reality of the world around me.
I have found that reading an article on my laptop lacks the tactile pleasure of savouring a pocket novel or hard cover classic. The LCD screen seems to flicker, or the sunlight makes reading impossible, or the computer must be plugged in after an hour or so. There are myriad excuses as to why e-books are inferior to bound copies of the same plots and documents. Yet, by the end of 2010, over 10% of all books sold were in electronic, or digital form. The world is embracing the new technology, while I cling to old ways.
Cognitively, I see e-books as an expression of minimalism. No wasted paper, no bulk or heft to them. A hundred thousand books takes up no more space than a hundred on my shelf. The physical impact of a wall of leather bound books smacks of achievement and intellectual superiority. The display of the newest best seller, in hard cover, says “I have the money to pay the price of this collection of pulp,” while the discreet nature of an e-book offers none of the status or prestige of a bound copy.
The guilt of indecision, and the social pressure of always conforming to the world’s perception of what constitutes a minimalist drives my choice as to whether I should purchase an e-book or a printed one. The very decision to buy either is at the heart of the minimalist dilemma.
Yet, minimalism is about prioritizing. In the end, I choose to buy bound readers when I want the joy of relaxing and reading. I do not want to be tied to a darkened room, or carry my laptop (or Kindle, if I owned one) with me, in case the mood to read attacks me. I choose to read digital media when I want to conduct research, read a technical paper, or am investigating a more formal document or topic.
Minimalism requires choosing and prioritizing, but it also requires getting every last drop of living out of life, at the least cost to the world around us. I will relinquish my deeply-rooted preference for the tactile experience of reading, only when that experience already is soured by routine and mechanical written materials that offer none of the release of fiction or exploration of the unknown. After all, my minimalist diet allows for the occasional indulgences!

Minimalism Defined By Degree of Dependence on Assets

Minimalists place almost exclusive emphasis on getting rid of “stuff,” as if that is the panacea. Get rid of clutter, get rid of duplicate materials, get rid of ostentatious, overindulgent purchases, and so on.
While reducing dependence on assets is laudable, affluence is not the enemy, or is de-cluttering the solution to simplifying one’s life. By exerting oneself to part with items that have a link to your emotional or pedantic life, you are likely to experience a feeling of deprivation. It is one of the reasons why many advocates of minimalism recommend decreasing assets bit at a time, rather than immediately and thoroughly.
Why are we choosing to reduce our belongings? In many cases, it is due to the realization that we are wrapped up in a tornado of acquisition, seeking continually to own the best of everything.
Again, many minimalists suggest that the goal of minimalism is to reduce excess, so that we can focus on the remaining, valued items in our arsenal. What we are doing, then, is redirecting our efforts away from a blanket embracing of goods toward a bond with only a few, but a much stronger bond. In other words, we will be as reliant on assets as always, but we will cling to fewer of them!
For this reason, I urge that anyone who is considering a conversion to the minimalist lifestyle reflect very carefully on their reasons for doing so.
Is it because of the clutter? Then just reorganize! Is it because of the cost? Consider how to make your dollar work better for you. Is it because of the glamour of saying that you are unique? Consider how many “minimalists” live in the poor areas of your city, not by choice but by necessity.
Minimalism, as one blogger writes, has become the fad of white people. But few take the time to consider the impacts and consequences on oneself and those around us. Most importantly, we rush into minimalism like a crash dieter, and just as quickly fall of the regimen wagon.
Over twenty years ago -- ten years before I embraced minimalism -- I learned, firsthand, the impact of stuff on our lives. At the time, I had just entered into a business partnership that led into a huge growth of our operation. We went from annual revenues, between the two of us, of $125,000 per year to annual revenues of $1.8 million, in the space of a few months. We had hit the big time!
One of the “urgent” purchases I needed was a new car, given that I would be on the road for at least 80,000 kilometres each year.
I fell in love with a Plymouth Laser – hardly an expensive car, but what I really, truly wanted. My partner purchased a Mercedes – just what he wanted. However, I did not purchase the Laser. I imagined myself driving it, polishing it, speeding along Alberta highways in it. It had sex appeal! So I bought a Plymouth Colt 200 – a subcompact. I liked the Colt.
The reasons were simple. Because I loved the Laser, I would spend hours each week, cleaning, polishing, maintaining and driving it. Because I liked the Colt, I would keep it clean and in running condition. The Laser got 25 miles to the gallon, the Colt 42. The Laser cost $23,000, the Colt $12,000. I could repair the Colt myself. I could not repair the Laser. But the Laser came ever so close to winning the purchase lottery!
That one decision revealed to me that it is not the amount or the cost of the stuff we own, but the significance that we place upon things that controls us.
The big screen television may be more important than our daughter’s braces!
Not long ago, I walked through a coastal village in Mexico that had been devastated by a hurricane three years earlier. In beaten to the ground, I found a shell of a former home, now covered with six separate utility tarps, blowing freely. Two of the people who lived there were returning with 5-gallon jugs of water. The place was absolutely destroyed. Yet, in front of the home (where clearly, kids still lived), among the disarray of junk and broken lumber and two derelict cars were two –not one – satellite dishes!
The importance of that connection to television was so important that all other creature comforts paled.
There certainly was no doubt that this family lived minimally. But is it a choice that any of us would make?
If you are considering adopting a minimal lifestyle, I ask that you do one thing, above all. Sit down and evaluate, not the quantity of things you own, but the quality and tenacity of your attachment to items. Consider, thoroughly, what those items mean to you. If you do not, you’ll be like the impulsive parachutist who decided to jump, and then thought of putting on his parachute!

The Minimalist's Diet

Minimalism has elements in common with dieting, such as the giving up of something that may seem important to you, in order to gain something else. However, it is radically different from dieting, in that, if properly structured, it is something that you do not consider to be a loss or forfeiture in the long term. It is harder to return to materialism than it is to remain in minimalist mode, unlike dieting which requires constant vigilance to “keep the weight off.”
It is also substantially different from dieting, in that it can be done in degrees. Try dieting by first reducing calorie intake by 1,000 calories per day, when you are overeating by 2,000 calories per day. The weight will still pile on. “Going minimal” allows you to reduce some of your excess, and still be on track to becoming more economical. This advantage gives you the psychological impetus to continue on your path to reduction, while eating 1,000 excess calories each day still is the wrong direction towards weight loss!
Because of the flexibility in approach to the new program, it is easier for a new convert to “test the waters,” and, at the same time, indoctrinate family, friends and associates into your new view of the world.
Unless the decision is made through necessity, it is unwise to become totally minimalist. For most of us, intrinsic feelings of value and self-significance often are measured by the degree of comfort that we have acquired. To deny ourselves of every physical pleasure creates an emotional void. At its worst, it can be unhealthy. For example, to deny oneself the enjoyment of a comfortable bed means that we also deny ourselves the value of a good night’s sleep. To insist on eating only the minimum of quality food, or to substitute nutritious food for poor quality food will impact severely on our health. We should not aspire to be material anorexics.
On the other hand, overindulgence brings equally undesirable results. An excess of food leads to unhealthy bodies, while an excess of material goods leads to a narcissistic view of life and our role in it.
Whether you opt for either an extreme approach, or a more reasonable, middle-of-the-road tact, it is the rejection of acquisition and consumption of goods that is at the heart of minimalism. Minimalism should never be used as the rationale or excuse for becoming slothful, and aiming low in the input that you provide to the world around you. I know of several people who have chosen to work minimally, and contribute to the world around them in the least possible way, and use their “goal” of being less focused on materialism as an excuse for their indolence.
Minimalism should focus on using your gifts and abilities for the greatest benefit, while seeking ways to be less of a draw on the resources around us. Even that definition, though, fails to recognize that, as you do so, you will gain immensely from the enjoyment of the moment, with a reduced dependence on material goods to generate that enjoyment.
Planning for the conversion to minimalism will be of benefit if you look not only at what you want to eliminate from your life, but what you want to gain. What are your goals and objectives? Do you plan on using the “free money” to retire on a tropical island? Do you want to devote more effort to community service? Is it your plan to spend your free money and time on inventing the next greatest invention? Is minimalism a route to something else, such as saving for that ultimate purchase of a yacht in order to sail around the world? Are you hoping to be able to secrete a nest-egg to leave for your children and grandchildren when you die? Having a focus, as to what you want to do or acquire, as well as what you want to give up provides a more solid base on which to build your efforts at changing your way of living.
Few people diet with the sole purpose of losing weight. They lose weight to feel more energetic, or to improve their health, or to become more attractive. They have a focus, a goal. Similarly, approach minimalism with the same focus, and your journey will become that much easier.

Gift Giving for Minimalists

Relationship issues naturally seem to follow a decision to make a major change in one’s life.
When a career change hits, it impacts on more than the person whose work path is redirected. It impacts on a spouse, on family members, and on one’s social life. Similarly, a change of residence means school & friendship reorientation for the children, a probable job change for a spouse, and a shuffling of extended family interactions due to distance. Obviously, a change of religion brings unique relationship realignments.
My decision to live a minimalist lifestyle occurred well before my remarriage. My spouse has done an amazing job of adjusting, accommodating and even aligning her value systems to meet my preferences. As I indicated, though, in one of my earlier blogs, I felt compelled to live as a “closet minimalist,” in order to maintain my image as a successful business consultant. That changed when I retired.
The most difficult relationship adjustment has come, not from those immediate family members such as my own children and my spouse, but from “extended family” and friends. Even my “new” children (a friend calls them “bonus children.” I love that expression!), after a couple of years, learned to accept that my value system was not something they should try to leverage or modify, in the same manner that I respected their way of looking at life. We share ideas, but do not strongarm our ideas on each other.
My new in-laws love to give gifts; for Christmas, at Easter, at every birthday and anniversaries. Regardless of how I protest, they simply laugh it off. Regardless of how I try to encourage them to, at least, spend less (they are in their late 70s), they ignore the requests. So how do I get them to understand that I do not want these excesses, without being exceptionally blunt and perhaps offend them?
Long-time friends of my spouse, and friends of mine who love to socialize with us insist on bringing dinner gifts for every occasion. They remember special occasions, and provide gifts. They look at our dearth of furnishings, and bring knickknacks and superfluous decorations. Yet, they all know my preferences. So, how do I deal with them?
A simple solution: let everyone know you appreciate their thoughts and generosity, and let them know. Each time they bring a gift, who or what charity you have donated their gift to. Let them know how valued those donations are by the recipients. Let them know that, regardless of their attempt to “fatten me up” while I am on my minimalism diet, I will continue to appreciate their generosity, and thank them for their charitable nature by giving gifts that they know I will prudently donate to the appropriate charities.