All of a sudden, “minimalism” is a hot word around the
Internet. New blogs and videos about the concept are popping up every week. You
can find several books about becoming minimalist on Amazon.
I, too, have used that buzz word. But I have decided to
refrain heretofore.
Well. Before I go on, I suppose I should give a brief
definition of “minimalism” for those handful who have yet to encounter the
term. Minimalism is a lifestyle philosophy in which you live with only those
things which you absolutely need. One might set Henry David Thoreau, during his
experiment at Walden Pond, as the quintessential minimalist.
Sounds good, doesn’t it? So, why have I decided to eschew
the word?
1. Minimalism is a religion.
Think about it. Most religions end with the three letters
“-ism.” Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Judaism.
Okay, so I’m a little bit tongue-in-cheek here. But hang
with me while I go through the analogy, and you might actually end up agreeing.
Religions provide a set of rules to follow in order to live
a life that makes some higher power happy, and/or that makes you happy. Most
specifically deal with how to escape Earth and make it to heaven (I beg my
readers not to confuse religion with a relationship with our heavenly Father. They
are not the same thing).
Minimalism teaches that in order to be happy, you must get
rid of everything you do not absolutely need. No hanging onto clothes that you
might wear once in a great while, no more chairs in the house than
needed for the members of that household, no keeping your teenage diaries. It
teaches you to spend no money unless you absolutely need a thing, to have no
clutter about.
What’s wrong with those rules? Nothing, when taken at face
value. Nothing, if those rules fit your personal bent. Ay, there lies
the rub. Religion tries to make everyone conform to the same set of rules,
regardless of individual temperaments, giftings or abilities.
“But I read so-an-so’s blog that said minimalism doesn’t
have to mean anything so austere.” That’s because so-and-so isn’t really a
minimalist.
*SHOCK!*
Look, if you don’t believe in reincarnation, you’re not
really a Buddhist. If you don’t believe premarital sex is a sin, you’re not
really a Christian. If you don’t believe you have to pray five times a day
toward Mecca in order to please Allah, you’re not really a Muslim. If you have
joined any of those particular religions, but changed some of the rules because
you didn’t like them, then you basically created your own new religion.
Ditto for quasi-minimalists who…well, now I’m getting ahead
of myself. Let’s attack that in the next section.
2. The word “minimalism” has been abused and misused.
I am all for sticking to a budget, decluttering, and
downsizing anything from a bookshelf to an entire house. But just because
you’ve become a decluttering freak doesn’t make you a minimalist. A minimalist
by definition is going to have a boring house and, quite frankly, a
boring life (at least to outsiders; contemplative people who get a thrill out
of meditating all day don’t think such activity boring at all).
The aforementioned Thoreau was a true minimalist – at least,
during the period in which he lived at Walden Pond. His house was practically
bare, and his only major activity was tending a garden.
If you have an uncluttered house and refuse to buy an iPad,
but have a bunch of kids whom you regularly take on entertaining and
educational excursions around the city, you are not a minimalist. You are
giving your children experiences they don’t absolutely need (and
therefore spending money unnecessarily, breaking one of the cardinal rules of
minimalism).
If you have only one chair and one fork in your large
apartment, but often fly back and forth between the United States and
Australia, you are not a minimalist. You do not need to travel
(besides, a true minimalist will be trying his best to reduce his carbon
footprint).
If you live in a 5,000 square-foot house that is completely
void of clutter and has only a couple of pieces of furniture in every room -
and you have fewer than eight children, you are not a minimalist.
(Five thousand square feet? Come on!)
If you have a well-followed blog because its domain name
uses the buzz word “minimalist”, then put together a “simple living” course for
which you charge $149 dollars a head, you are not a minimalist. You are the
typical exploitive Internet Marketer (a real minimalist is not greedy for
gain).
3. God is not a minimalist.
Ever read any books about people who have seen heaven? Sure,
probably one or two have made things up to sell a few books. But I have reason
to believe that the handful I have read were written by people who have had
honest-to-goodness visions of heaven and wrote the books to encourage people of
faith about what the future holds for them.
In these books, God does not hold back. He has provided a
mansion for everyone who arrives there, and the mansion as well as its
surroundings is loaded with accessories, décor, furnishings, etc., etc., that
represent your deepest desires and personal tastes. One author has even seen a
heavenly amusement park and movie theaters!
Say the authors of those books have made all that stuff up.
Okay, so read the Bible instead. The streets of heaven are paved with gold, the
apostle John wrote in the book of Revelation. If the streets are paved
with gold, do you really think Father has held back in luxury and lavishness
anywhere else?
I’m not suggesting that you go out and get into debt so you
can crowd your bookshelves, dressers and side tables with pretty knick-knacks.
I am simply pointing out the fact that it is not evil to have things, including
things that are there solely to make an otherwise empty corner or space
beautiful.
4. Minimalism doesn’t fit many people’s lifestyle goals and/or personalities.
Some women – and men – thrive in a home decorated country
style. Ever seen a home like that? Let me give you a hint: there is “stuff”
everywhere. The tops of the kitchen cabinets are lined with
old-fashioned crocks, jars and dishes, and there will be a sideboard in the
dining room packed with all sorts of quaint dishes and other accessories.
That’s not to mention the numerous knick-knacks and accessories that will be
found in the rest of the house.
If someone wants to dust – or pay somebody to dust – all
those things, more power to ‘em!
Then there are homesteaders. As one of those, I can tell you
one of the most important Homesteading Commandments: save everything. While I
don’t literally save everything, neither do I throw out or recycle
every single supplement bottle or jar, empty milk jug, or piece of junk mail.
They often come in handy for a variety of uses. We refuse to follow that
minimalist rule of getting rid of “just in case items” – because often, those
items turn out to be useful in a few months to a couple of years! And because
we did not adhere to the minimalist religion, we did not have to go out and
spend more money to buy another thing.
I have dozens of “just in case” flower pots in the garden
shed, and row covers that I have not yet even opened. Jerry has a variety of
tools. We are not going to get rid of these items because somebody wants us all
to live like hermits in a cave.
So, why am I even bringing it up? I – and the others who
want to/need to have a lot of things – should simply just not call ourselves
minimalists, right? My problem with this facet of the anti-possession religion
is that those who think they are minimalists try to make everyone else
who definitely is not, look or feel as if she is doing something
wrong.
Gee, maybe I should have written all this under the
“religion” heading.
The long and the short of it…
I am not a minimalist, and do not want to be part of that
camp. I am all for simple living, but that does not need to mean living in a
home with mostly bare space, obsessing over the number of things you own, or feeling
guilty about how little you may use or enjoy those things.
