The Cruisin’ Minimalist

When I view minimalist art, I do not appraise it and declare, “That’s not minimalism.  It’s not doing without.”  In fact, the idea that minimalism is about focusing on that which we relinquish or don’t have is an entirely distorted perspective on simplicity.  Minimalist art does without nothing.  It is akin to the old wood carver, who was asked how he decided what to carve out of his length of raw wood.  His reply was simple.  “I merely look at the wood, and see what is in there.  Then I just get rid of the stuff that doesn’t belong.”

I have heard this analogy before, in various settings.  Minimalism focuses on finding what should be there, and nothing more, whether it involves interior design, business operations or lifestyles.  I regularly read blogs and articles by those who espouse minimalism, simple living, voluntary simplicity and frugal living.  Many of those writers espouse getting rid of stuff, and living with less.  This seems intuitive, since minimal implies living with the minimum of something. I, too, consider myself to be a minimalist.  I have relatively few household possessions, keep my wardrobe to the most basic, have forfeited our second vehicle, shop for bargains, employ those assets that can do double duty, and so on.  These all are tenets of voluntary simplicity, as it is commonly accepted.  Yet, I also indulge myself.

Minimal art does the same.  Minimalist art decries the clutter of unnecessary elements, and, in turn, highlights the focus, and the most significant facets of the work.  In my book, The Last Drop Of Living: A Minimalist’s Guide To Living The High Life On A Low Budget, I draw the comparison between minimal living and displays in an art gallery or museum.  The focal piece on the gallery is not hidden by an assortment of frivolous support pieces.  Instead, it likely will be found on a pedestal apart from other pieces, or on a naked wall, featuring only that artwork.  It is the most critical component, the only element that matters.  It is not diminished by being alone.  Rather, it is enhanced.  Minimalism should allow us to find the most important things in our life, and focus upon them.

With that in mind, I built my personal strategy for “going minimal.”  It involved a very basic process: decide what is important to me, and what is unimportant.  Next, I opted to relinquish  those things and ideas that may have value, but that were less vital than others.  Both my wife and I chose to focus on our leisure as vital to our enjoyment.  Essential to those recreational priorities was the idea of cruising.

Today, I write this blog on board the @Norwegian Pearl, as we leave the Grand Stirrup Cay for our next Caribbean destination.  How is such a lavish holiday “minimalist?”  Simple.  In exchange for giving up frequent dinner-out evenings, a second vehicle, extra home furnishings, a big house, etc., we are able to apply some of our surplus resources to a great holiday.  It is the second of four cruises we will have taken within the year.

But sacrificing in one area of living and then splurging in another is like saying, “Well, I stuck to my ‘no smoking’ pledge for six months, so now I’m going to celebrate by having a huge cigar, or overeating for the next six months.” 

As a dedicated minimalist, I need to show  restraint in the area of my holidays, as well, if I wish to avoid my own internal dissonance.  So, I cruise minimally, as well.  Websites like @www.vacationstogo.com (+mmilheim@vacationstogo.com), @www.cruisedirect.com, individual cruise line websites (like +www.ncl.com (@NorwegianCruiseLine@email.ncl.com)) and several other discount providers offer discounts that may be as much as 80% off the brochure price.  By screening carefully, one can boast of significant savings, and demonstrations of frugality.  By purchasing in a 90 day window prior to sailing, prices may drop further.  By booking inside staterooms, you are able to obtain rock-bottom prices (inside staterooms, after all, are only used for eight hours each night, while the rest of our time is spent on shore or on deck.).

When I factor in the cost of food, entertainment and supplies, plus the cost of accommodations, I discover that each day on a cruise costs less than the cost of a budget motel room each night!

Ask the more rigid advocates of minimalism whether we truly can be considered to be living a life of voluntary simplicity and you will receive a resounding “No.”  That’s fair enough.  They see the world differently than I do.  But tell me, would you rather live in a cardboard box, eat scraps and proclaim yourself a minimalist, or would you prefer to get the most out of each moment at the best price while being ostracized by the self-professed puritans?  Live minimally.  Cruise to your heart’s content!

Lean, As Well As Green, Living Combines Best Of Each Concept

A popular lifestyle trend, advocated by many who profess to live responsibly, is the voluntary simplicity movement.  In its raw form, minimal living requires that we eschew material wealth, and look to a standard of living that involves the least amount of possessions. Simultaneously,  the environmental movement demands that we create the smallest eco-footprint that we can, guarding the environment preciously. Both lifestyles appear to have much in common, yet, oddly, there is only a nominal effort to blend the two together.

There is vociferous opposition to the eco-friendly concept by those that seek to deny the reality of climate change.  The anti-tree hugger groups gravitate toward the argument that, since global warming is a myth (or, at best, not caused by human actions), there is no need to spend effort on protecting the ecology of the earth.  These people miss the point of being eco-friendly.

I live a modest lifestyle, yet do not begrudge those that have wealth and show it.  The premise built into the anti-environment people’s argument is that, if what they do will cause no serious harm, then there is no reason to discontinue being disrespectful and selfish regarding pollution problems. Extrapolating that argument to the middle/upper income situation then, I should be able to simply take what I want from those who have affluence, simply because it will have no monetary impact on them.  Even more to the point, I should be able to walk into the anti-climate change proponents’ homes and dump whatever garbage and pollution I want in their back yard, because the filth will not impact on the environment.  The fact is, whether or not my actions harm the environment, I should act responsibly as much as possible, including taking care to not impact on others’ enjoyment of the world around them!

Living a green lifestyle simply says that I want to enjoy this earth, but that I do not need to be wasteful to do so.  I want to take only what I need on this globe, not what I want.  I choose to live cleanly and simply, as much as possible.

Those that embrace the minimalist approach to living often are labelled as harshly as “tree huggers” by those that think that we choose to live this lifestyle because we have nothing, and want others to do the same. I have been told that most of us choose this way of living because, if we have little in the way of material wealth, we don’t have to work as hard to get it.  In essence, I am being told that I choose voluntary simplicity because I am lazy!  It is an intriguing label, given that a) I have developed multi-million dollar businesses for others, b) have owned (and sold for pennies) a business that grossed $1.6 million in its second year of business, and c) living minimally takes a lot of conscious effort and (the horror!) work.  Voluntary simplicity says that I do not need material wealth to generate huge enjoyment out of life.  Indeed, it offers a richness for which money cannot  be bartered.

Both minimalism and environmentalism seek to embrace living consciously and enthusiastically, but without taking huge bites out of that which is available to consume.  By doing so, more is left for others to enjoy.  This idea that “lean” is an ideal to aim toward is not radical, nor impossible.  It is realistic, and hugely gratifying.  Similarly, “going green” is a fantastic journey, allowing us to take Robert Frost’s road less travelled. He was so correct when he claimed that doing so “has made all the difference.”  Will the world be greener because of me?  Who knows?  Will my efforts at living with less pay dividends for others?  Possibly not.  Neither matters.  The lean and green living concept offers an option that combines, for me, the epitome of what I see is my duty.  Nothing more, nothing less.

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.

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!

Living With Less Does Not Always Mean Doing It Yourself

One of the problems inherent in “going minimal” is the tendency to radicalize. That is, some of us assume that minimalism requires that we not only do without every luxury and most essentials, but that we involve others at a minimal level in every purchase. We often suppose that doing with less means doing it yourself.
Need an oil change? It must be a minimalistic approach to do it yourself. Want a special meal, such as a lasagne? One has to obtain the ingredients and make it oneself. Of course, a true minimalist must do her own vehicle repairs, make his own clothes, grow every food item and complete every repair or household renovation alone.
These are just a few of the myths of minimal living.
Let us take a quick look, for example, at that lasagne dinner. Typically, a 2-pound store-bought, ready-made lasagne will cost you $5.99 to $9.99. Your total cost, including cooking in the oven for 45 to 60 minutes, will be $6.11 to $10.11, or $3.05 to $5.06 per pound. However, calculate the individual costs of buying the ingredients. Cheese, lean ground beef, spinach, spices and noodles will end up costing you at least $6.80 per pound if you buy the size required to make a 2-pound lasagne. Cooking will take two hours, for an additional cost of $0.22, while cleanup of the baking pan and utensils will add another $0.30-.40 to the total. This doesn’t factor in the cost of the pan & utensils, or place a value on the two hours that it may take to make the meal. Total savings, per pound, of buying the ready-made meal will be up to $4.37! Hardly worth the effort, is it, unless you prefer the quality and uniqueness of a homemade meal?
How about that oil change? With a litre of oil costing, on average, $4.19 and a filter $6-12, a four-litre oil change will cost $23.76, versus the $29.95 for a shop to do it. Yet, you don’t have to worry about the cleanup and environmental impact, or the cost of oil drain pans, jack stands, etc. It’s almost a fair trade to farm out the task.
Don’t even consider doing your own repairs on a new car. Just the OBII-compliant computer tester will set you back $100 or more, and you haven’t begun to figure out how to do the repairs, with the few outdated tools that you own. Each new car demands its own specialty tools to conduct repairs. However, buying the new car is more environmentally friendly, and generally more cost-efficient than maintaining the old one.
A true minimalist may want to mend his own clothes, make his own curtains, upholster his own furniture. Aside from the grotesquely ugly results that are likely, this option, too, is impractical, even for a minimalist. However, if you find someone who is handy with a sewing machine or needle and thread, and you have the cash, consider providing the material, while your partner provides the handiwork and skill necessary to make clothes, drapes or couch covers.
Similarly, home renovation skills are seldom within the reach of the typical homeowner. You may be great at rough carpentry, but lousy at finishing work. You may know the basics of plumbing, and fail miserably at electrical repair. Here is where a collage of colleagues, with compatible and exchangeable skills provides a real advantage. You may undertake the framing (or supervision) of a garage for a neighbour, while another provides skills at concrete work and a third can wire the building. When you need your recreation room renovated, those same people can pool their skills to assist you, and so on.
Have a large back yard? Grow your vegetables, and a few for your neighbours, in exchange for a few trinkets that you require from them.
The last three examples are perfect illustrations of the benefit of bartering for the frugal individual, or those who favour the minimal living approach. Bartering, or swapping services and goods not only lessens demand for duplicate items or redundant services, but reduces the cost to each individual in the barter group. Barter groups may be loosely arranged, or established as a cooperative, with specific assigned values for work and goods that are exchanged, with a “banking” option that allows a member to provide his goods into the pool, and obtain the benefit that he wants or needs at a later time.
Minimalism is not about doing it yourself. It is about seeking the path that is least intrusive, with the greatest benefit, to obtain those needed items, while recognizing that “need” and “want” are not synonymous, and that using less is a pathway to getting more out of your life, each day.

Converting to Minimalism? Know Before You Go!

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.

Would You Like Apple Sauce or Pork N Beans?

Minimalism is not about doing without. It is not about continual sacrifice. It is about doing more (or, at minimum, the same amount) with less. That may sound a little like one of the three Rs of environmentalism – Reduce. But minimalism is about making choices that make sense, not necessarily making choices to leave less of a footprint. The end result may be the same, but the motivations may differ.
Let us consider the choice of apple sauce or pork and beans. In the grocery store, a can (14 oz or 400 ml) of beans may cost you ninety cents or so, but no more than $1.20. A jar of apple sauce, on the other hand, may cost upwards of $3.00 for 900 ml (32 oz). Yet, both are relatively inexpensive. Both can be grown and produced by you.
If both can be produced by you, then, should not a true minimalist make his/her own beans or apple sauce? Not necessarily.
This fall, we made our own apple sauce, from a basket of tart apples picked from our own tree. To make six quarts took us four hours. That’s hardly a productive use of our time, since we were working for less than $5 per hour! Yet, our only inputs (the tree was in the yard before we were) were a little cinnamon, the jars (which we already had) and the heat to do the canning. We canned on a cool day, so the heat generated would have been generated anyway, to heat our home. That meant our only true cost was less than fifteen cents worth of cinnamon.
On the other hand, we also grew a variety of beans. Those beans could have been made into canned beans with pork. Instead, we chose to pickle them and freeze some. Less energy input was required on the hot summer days when they were ripe for the picking. Our net cost to pickle and freeze? About six cents per pound. To can them into brown beans with pork would have required sugar, cooking heat, spices, and tomato or molasses. And the time to prepare them for canning would have exceeded four hours for twenty pounds. At a retail price of $1.00 per pound, we would have saved $20 over store-bought beans, minus the input costs of forty cents per pound, and worked for $3.00 per hour. That is considerably less than what we earned on the apple sauce.
There are three additional major differences, though. The homemade apple sauce is pure, with no artificial preservatives added, and no sugars. And we used recycled jars, rather than aluminum cans. For the beans, we had an easier option: freezing. For virtually no cost, and little labour, we preserved the same quantity of beans as we would have canned in the pork ‘n beans scenario.
Sometimes, it is an act of minimalism to buy, rather than produce an item yourself. But where your inputs will exceed what is consumed by commercial production, where quality of doing it yourself far outweighs commercial product quality, or where commercial products generates excess waste, “doing it yourself” is the minimalist’s best option.
Minimalism, it seems then, is not as simple as “doing with less” or “doing it yourself.” It is also about “doing it smart.”

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.