Consumerism (noun) The preoccupation of society with the acquisition of consumer goods.
This Christmas, I’m falling in love with less.
Less clutter. Less distractions. Less tidying up the same things over and over again. Less piles of clothes or books or bags that aren’t truly loved. Less clothes that don’t feel amazing, less makeup that spends its time in drawers. Less kids stories that don’t make them cry “Again!”. Less toys scattered over the floor like booby traps.
Less wasted time.
I will always love things. I don’t apologise for it. But I’ve realised that the key is in keeping the things I love and letting go of the rest, because ultimately I deserve more.
More writing, more art, more laughter, more music. More board games, more hide and seek. More time spent in inspiration. More adventures outside. More ball games and dancing in the kitchen. More spaces in my home that feel like comfort. More romance, more jokes, more movies watched without my mind on the laundry. More quality.
More ideas and inspiration. More rest.
This year I want to be more of me. So I want less stuff.
It’s not just about removing things that aren’t functional; usefulness is important but beauty is important too. Inspiring is more important still. Minimalism doesn’t mean minimizing that. Ask yourself if you use it, but also ask yourself if it makes you happy. It’s about removing things that take from your life rather than give.
It’s not wasteful to get rid of something you don’t need. It’s not ungrateful to pass something on that still has life in it. That t shirt that you might wear? You don’t. That’s ok.
That book, dress, bag, toy; it’s someone else treasure. Keeping what doesn’t add value to our lives perpetuates a feeling of scarcity even as we drown in stuff. We’re worth more than that.
I think for a lot of us the idea of minimalism still feels like loss rather than gain, and too many of us decide that we’ll never be minimalist because we still have clutter. We still have that back room, that walk in robe, those boxes we never got to; not to mention the drawers in the garage. But what I’m learning is that it’s not about immediately having that perfect space, it’s about the conscious editing of our lives.
It’s about what we own but also what we commit our time to, it’s about honestly assessing the value in everything and what our intention is for keeping it. Even hobbies, habits and friendships. It’s about doing this without guilt.
Minimalism and honesty are tied, because you can’t declutter without really taking a look at your own bullshit.
I’m not quite there yet. I don’t expect to be. I expect that I will always have a cupboard or two to be sorted, and piles of paper that could make a grand squadron of paper planes.
The meditation of constantly looking at my life honestly will take care of that. There will be ebb and flow. I will declutter. I will be kind to myself as I do. I will not aim for perfection.
I will remind myself, as many times as it takes, that less is more.