Minimalism: Learning How To Live With Less

  A little over a year ago, I picked-up a book called "The Year of Less" by Cait Flanders. She owns and runs her own blog where she challenged herself to an entire year of only buying things on a list of necessities that she wrote out, and tried her best to deny herself of any luxuries in an attempt to pay off some debts that she had, and learn to live with less. It's such a good book on minimalism and she bares so much of her soul within the book; I definitely recommend it. She's so wonderful and such an inspiration to me, personally.
  After spending a few months contemplating giving up some of my items prior to reading Cait's experiences, her book really kick-started my own journey of minimalism.
  At least once every four or five months or so, I "purge" my house and find items that no longer interest me, clog-up my space, or clothes that I no longer wear and I either sell them or run them up to Goodwill. My house, now, feels so much more uncluttered and organized. However, my living space wasn't always like this.
  I've moved so many times within the past five years. Two college dorms, my Grandma's house, living at a camp while interning, two apartments, moving back in with my parents for a time, to my own little house, and now into a shared house with Joey. Needless to say, I've had to haul around my belongings a lot. Minimalism was definitely something that peaked my interest, especially in the midst of all of those moves.
  The idea of getting rid of things I didn't need nor want, and only keeping around things that allowed for me to feel more at-ease and creative in my living space made me excited and eager to get started. What I didn't expect, however, was how difficult and long of a process "purging" my living space would be.
  At one point, I was in a really low spot in my life. There was a time where I legitimately drove around what mimicked a storage shed on wheels. I hauled absolutely everything that I owned in my car, to absolutely everywhere I went. I remember the embarrassment I felt apologizing to friends and family that would come up to my car or ask for a ride and I simply had to explain to them that I was unable to help because of all of the stuff I had shoved in the back of my vehicle. It honestly felt like a nightmare-- not to mention how dangerous it was; thank God I never got in an accident.

  I remember finally deciding one afternoon that I'd had enough. I wanted to get rid of the items that I no longer had a use for and organize the items that I did want. The first time I ever went through all of my items, it was a gigantic mess. I was mortified by just how many items I had accumulated, but felt so much better after spending hours throwing away and setting aside things to give to charity.
  When I first started the process of minimizing my living spaces, I thought it was only going to take one, good purge. I was dead-wrong. Throughout the year, like I had mentioned earlier, at least every four to five months, I go through my belongings and re-decide on whether or not I still truly need certain items or if I can give it away.
  Items that I simply cannot give away, like childhood trinkets and small irreplaceable souvenirs from family and friends, I set aside in a box that I'm able to tuck-away in my closet for safe-keeping.
  Minimalism is such a long, tedious, yet rewarding journey and lifestyle. I feel like ever since I made the decision to live with less, I've allowed a part of my brain and soul to have room to breathe, as strange as that sounds. Now that my living space is emptied of clutter, my mind is also free of it's own type of clutter and it's allowed to feel free. By getting rid of unwanted items, I've allowed myself to spend more time doing things that I love, like playing music on my ukulele, or writing, or reading. It's incredible how the state of our physical dwelling place plays such a major role in our mental health.



kati