A Minimalist’s Minimal List
I grew up with a mom that loved abundance, where I was showcased a lifestyle that stated the more things you have was synonymous with pure bliss.
As I reached adulthood, society also bombarded me with a similar message, as I conformed.
I filled my room, closet, and life with more, merely to find not only my wallet quickly emptied, but myself as well.
My first step towards minimalism was with my room — it used to blare of bright blue and deep purple as the walls covered in torn out magazine photos along with every painting I ever did (and was proud of) covered any remaining blank space.
My bed demanded to be seen of obnoxious pink and purple polka dots (which was never made, by the way), a white vanity barely noticeable as it covered in endless beauty products and jewelry, brought together with a chair that resembled a red high heel, and worst of all, my dresser overfilled of undergarments and socks (most of which I only bought to have) that were openly showcased because I never bothered to close the drawer.
If you want to take a look inside someone’s mind, take a look at their room (or home) …and don’t forget to check the closet.
My closet, similar to my dresser, saturated in clothes that were mostly bought to have, rarely to be worn, and of others that I look back in utter embarrassment.
In all honesty, my younger self just needed a hug, and my style choice [then] shouted this loud and clear.
Though my closet was in need of attending to, this first step towards a lighter life merely consisted of white paint, a white comforter set with a grey throw blanket, and a “normal” vanity chair…oh, and I started closing my dresser drawers!
Each stroke of paint felt as a pound lifting gently off my shoulders, moment by moment.
I soon began to fall in love with simplicity.
Though, in all honesty, it took some years to completely implement it in every aspect of my life possible — my vanity still covered in ceaseless beauty products, my closet still of clothes I’d never worn and of those I held onto too dearly, though uncomfortable and something that I’d never felt “at home” in.
It wasn’t until I sought out guidance from others that went through a similar journey that I was able to set free multiple weights more easily.
As Courtney Carver speaks it in her book, Soulful Simplicity, our material items resemble us sentimentally.
My clothes oft resembled a girl I thought I needed to be simply to be admired at all. I oft feared that if I didn’t upkeep with this persona, I’d be alone.
In a sense, setting free my flashy wardrobe was setting free support, admiration, and connection.
This was true to the extent of conditional support and admiration, and superficial connection…but I didn’t realize that then.
As I began to weed out this melancholic self, a careless self began to take over.
My closet soon became replaced with only t-shirts, all dark colors, and jeans. Nothing more, nothing less.
When it comes to style, my number one priority is comfortability; if I’m constantly adjusting a shirt or jeans while out, it won’t last long in my life.
What was negative about this, though, was that I became too comfortable in which I completely stopped caring about anything entirely, so a black t-shirt and jeans it was, day in and out!
With minimalism, and what I became mixed up about, was that it’s not entirely about having the absolute bare minimum, but as both Carver and Brooke McAlary (author of Slow) put it in their books, it’s about having less of what doesn’t matter to get back to what does: love, more time for things that bring us joy, more things that align with our true selves, more innovation, etc.
In Soulful Simplicity, Courtney Carver states that she’d “show up” for her job more than her home life.
She’d put on a smile regardless of how tired she was, give her all, and always be attentive with her job, while her home life delt with her true sentiments.
With me, I stopped showing up for life all together — I‘d merely wear the same two shirts and work out shorts anytime I left the house (which was not often), I always threw my hair up in a bun, wore the same black sandals, bought the same grocery items, never had enough enthusiasm to do my makeup, and if I did leave the house to be social, I always wanted to cut it as short as possible.
Life was grey; I hadn’t a care in the world, and not in a good sense.
I was mildly unhappy and dissatisfied.
One day, I saw an outfit on Pinterest: a long, abstract printed skirt, paired with a white long-sleeve, topped with a sage-green vest, all pulled together with chunky shoes.
I fell in love and instantly drove to the nearest thrift store to create something similar. I was able to match the vest almost perfectly and chunky shoes had already lived [dustily] within my closet, and settled on a vintage, pink skirt flowing to my ankles.
It was only then that I opened my closet and said to myself Why do I wear so much black?
And so, began the purge.
It was easy at first, eliminating the clothing items that were worn to its final threads and replacing them with something fresh and colorful — that was the fun part!
To keep in mind though, I had to remember that I was adding more to my life that mattered, not more things to accumulate.
To buy one thing, I had to remove two.
For example, if I bought a new pajama shirt, I had to let go of two that I either didn’t wear or had enough of my lifetime wearing.
When it came to setting free the items that I never wore and kept “just in case,” however, that was the most difficult.
Afterall, I bought these items to have and to hold…in sickness and in health…how could I?!
In Soulful Simplicity, Carver speaks on a similar phenomenon with her clothing items and accessories and advised on a final goodbye — wearing the item, at least once (or one last time), maybe take it to a fancy dinner or show, and set it free, gently, along the wind.
I ended up putting my own twist on this idea by placing every item I planned to keep “just in case” in the forefront of my closet so it’d be the first thing I’d see, if I didn’t choose to wear it within the span of two weeks, I’d take it for its final lap or get rid of it right then and there, quickly, and without hesitation.
Within Carver’s book, a common theme throughout is to see our things through a different perspective.
Instead of keeping things to hold on, set things free to open yourself to greater possibility ahead.
The more items of varied colors I added to my closet, the closer I felt as if coming back home to myself, in which I could support and love my self without the need of others to.
Aside from clothes, my closet also held an abundance of things I often accumulated for the mere reason to, because a certain individual I care about gave it to me, or even simply to hold onto a memory in a physical sense.
In Brooke McAlary’s book, Slow, she speaks on our values in a comforting manner.
She demonstrates her dream place of comfort in a cabin in the woods, making it a home by putting her most stable values within: time with her loved ones, writing, moments in nature, etc.
With this, I was able to look at my own core values and things that help me rejuvenate to be able to reframe my needs.
For example, if I kept something simply because someone I deeply care about gave it to me (and I didn’t use it), I could, instead, get rid of this item and seek to find more time with said individual that would create lasting memories, withstanding longer than any material item could.
I valued the person more over the thing they gave me. Of course, there’s no need to tell them this!
With this, my need for satisfaction was met along with my need for connection.
The same goes with memories.
The memory of any certain time of our life will always be there, even that of the thing we hold onto dearly itself in which we can return to at any moment in memory.
If an item for memory merely clutters a space, we’d find much more satisfaction in returning to the memory on an unsuspected day than we would constantly seeing this item in its dust bunny huddle.
Once I realized this, letting things go became part of my daily routine.
Day by day, digging myself up from a pile of trivialities, I began, for once, to see and feel the warmth of light.
Unlike me, Carver and McAlary did not find decluttering and downsizing similar to a hobby, more so a chore.
In all fairness, they both own an entire home to declutter, my journey merely humbled to a bedroom.
Though, Courtney Carver’s book, Soulful Simplicity, was the first book ever that made me tear up (wait until you get to the part about her dog) and set a stable groundwork for the genesis of simplifying.
And Brooke McAlary’s book, Slow, inspired me to great heights and motivated me more than I thought to ever be filled with.
Whether you remain faced with rooms upon rooms of material items or a mere safe haven of them, I definitely recommend both books for help on your way to simpler, yet more rewarding, living.
I also have my own take, which neither book mentioned (aside from meditation), on how to declutter our mental space, but more on that another time!
In regard to my room in its present state, I have added a touch of color (some green, silk pillowcases, a sun-shaped yellow pillow, a spotted jaguar flower vase, a few of my favorite watercolor paintings by yours truly, and a Van Gogh poster) as a personal touch, but instead of feeling suffocated by my things, I feel comforted and safe…I feel like myself, which I don’t think I’ve ever felt before.
For my clothes, I oft reach for neutral-colored items to mix and match or seek a colored detail (details are what I fall in love with) on the item chosen, and of course, everything comfortable and freeing!
