Tag Archive | minimalism

Minimalism and Stuff

Jan22
Mak

Gentle giant Mak

Today through till Monday, I am house sitting for Mak and Fern, two gorgeous retrievers who I have known for some time. This is a regular, once a month, long weekend booking and its a beautiful environment. The ambience is peaceful and it feels rather luxurious to have so much space! Most appreciated is constant, secure internet access and a fabulous cooker!

2015 was a year of rethinking my requirement for physical things. Most impacting in this regard was the audiobook Minimalism: Live a meaningful life by Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus, which I devoured. These guys don’t just show you how to reduce the amount of Stuff in your life but they offer an attractive alternative; contributing to relationships, people and society. Last year, however, it was the letting go of Stuff part that I really needed help with.

I came to realise that although I didn’t actively pursue material possessions, or accumulate them for the joy of the purchase or the comfort of ownership, I was indeed an accumulator, because I kept useful things I didn’t need in case one day I might need them. Once I understood that, it was relatively easy to take everything that I owned and divide it up as follows:

  1. Stuff I use every (or most) day(s).
  2. Stuff I use regularly (at least once a month).
  3. Stuff I keep because it has sentimental value.
  4. Stuff I rarely or never use.
  5. Stuff I keep because it will (okay, might) be useful one day.

Groups 1 and 2 seem to be straightforward keepers, but I had learned that it was worth asking whether I really needed them. The last three categories are things that are definitely worth considering letting go of. Minimalism: Live a meaningful life makes some heartfelt, liberating comments on our ties to ‘sentimental value’ stuff.

Then I learned to look at stuff and ask questions:

  • Does this add value to my life?
  • What does owning this cost me in terms of space (clutter, storage etc), time (organisation, cleaning, distraction, impact on relationships etc), money (ongoing costs, inherent value etc)?
  • What will happen to it, if I decide I don’t need it?
Fern

Lovely Fern

This last question was further complicated by my ever growing desire to reduce my waste. Unwanted stuff can at best be sold or given away to someone who will use it, or given to a third party (for example a charity shop) who will sell it or give it away. Stuff that is no longer usable can hopefully be recycled, or at worst, thrown away.

So began my very happy relationship with eBay, and I now sell all kinds of things to increase my income when I need to, but that’s another story.

Around the middle of 2015, once the Big Adventure was a certainty, and I knew what was happening to my house, I started to sort through all of my things. Essentially everything fell into one of these categories.

  • Things I will use in the van (Winter) – now in the van.
  • Things I will use in the van (Summer) – now in the garage at my (rented) house
  • Things I won’t use in the van but want to keep – now in the garage at my (rented) house
  • Things I will leave in the rented house (or Joe’s flat) – now no longer considered to be mine.
  • Things I can’t fit in the van but want to use regularly – now at Pete’s house.
  • Things I no longer feel the need to own. These things went on eBay, were sold at a car boot, were given to charity or the cat and dog shelter, went for recycling – and a very few went to landfill.

For most people in more usual circumstances this list can be as simple as keep/don’t keep/maybe keep. My own process was pretty straightforward and my attitude to the stuff that surrounded me certainly followed that manageable thought process. I kept what I knew I used and needed. I split the house stuff between the rented house and Joe’s new flat. I sold or gave away everything else except for a small filing cabinet of work/house archives and two modest packing boxes of stuff I felt I wouldn’t need for the next year, but didn’t (yet) want to get rid of – mostly books, stationary and games. I kept one A4 folder of stuff that fell into the sentimental value category, kids art work, my own angsty teenage poetry and the like.

I’m heading towards the end of my first month in the van and already the constraints of ‘tiny home’ living make me want to re-evaluate what I was so sure I would need to carry with me. This Sunday, I intend to park up outside the old house and strip the van out, clean it inside and then put back only what I really need. Will let you know how that goes.

 

Coming home, well-being and Stuff!

Jan21

Today is transition day; the day in the five day cycle when I head back to Newcastle to do some hands-on dog care and catch up with Pete and the kids. I was struck last week, as to just how good it feels to have all my (now adult) children in Newcastle again, all in their own separate living spaces and all thriving within their different choices. For the first time in a very long time, I feel that they have each found their own habitat (the natural environment of an organism), where they can flourish and I no longer need to worry about their well-being. I say worry, but for those of you who know me, the choice of word will jar like tripping over an uneven paving stone. I don’t worry! Indeed, I am usually the queen of “laid back”, but what I do experience in bucket-loads is an overwhelming sense of being responsible for the welfare of those around me. To some degree, this has always been my Achilles heel.

Indeed, the reason why the 24 hour presence of multiple dogs in my home, 365 days a year, took its toll was as much to do with the burden of responsibility, as it was the lack of a social life or the gradual destruction of the house. My recurring ‘nightmares’ never featured coming home to find a hole in the arm of my leather settee, or the beautiful blinds that Lloyd and I chose together, a mangled, dog-chewed mess on the floor  – though these things were the reality of my daily experience. No! In the divine depths of REM sleep, I could generally be found discovering unkempt and underfed animals in the far flung corners of my home, which had morphed seamlessly into a smallholding with numerous hiding places. Not feeling responsible for everyone else’s well-being is something I am trying to learn. Nurturing my own well-being (which historically has often been neglected), even more so.

Wolf 2 - the motorhome

Wolf 2 – the motorhome

Which brings me back to today and my journey home along the A690 and the A19. [Aside: I wrote that instinctively, but am now wondering about home and where my home really is. I am pretty certain that ‘home’ is not a house (not mine, nor Pete’s), nor is it Wolfie… she’s utilitarian, a means to an end. I do feel that coming back to Newcastle is a homecoming, but whilst I clearly have an affinity to the city, I wonder whether home is actually wherever my people are?] As I journeyed I listened to a piece on Radio 4 about consumerism, minimalism and our relationship with stuff. This is one of the areas of life that I would like to write about at length this year. Stuff. I haven’t – yet -whittled my own stuff down to only what I can fit into a very small van. I have a few possessions at Pete’s, along with two large boxes of eBay sales stuff. My own house I’m renting to my daughter, Imogen, and her partner, Chris. I’ve rented it furnished, just because that made sense, but in my mind the furniture is part of the house, not “my stuff”. I have a few boxes of things I won’t need in the van – but don’t want to get rid of – left in the garage, plus boxes of Scuttling Gourmet; my book on rat nutrition. I’ve never been materialistic, but I have always had loads of ‘useful’ stuff. Things I would hold onto in case I needed them one day (never). Clothes in every size between the UK16 I am now and the 10-12 I aspire to be. Craft stuff. Dog Stuff. Rat stuff. Kids stuff. Spare stuff. Stuff!