I’m no minimalist. I’m haunted by stuff.
Francine Jay’s book The Joy of Less describes how stuff can weigh you down. Her advice to imagine all your possessions being chained to your waist makes me think of Jacob Marley’s ghost in A Christmas Carol weighed down by the mess he crafted in life. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to sort out my relationship with stuff. Jay’s book offers a glimmer of hope that things can change.
If you’re wrestling with your own stuff, check out the book… The Joy of Less
Riding the Vespa scooter is an exercise in simplicity of which I’m reminded each time I’m on the road. Last week on the way to work I considered my two-wheeled needs against my two-wheeled desires. Desire has led me down dark paths and left me strangled by things I don’t need or want. I don’t need anything other than the Vespa right now. More stuff never got me anywhere. Recognizing desire for what it is may save my soul. Or at least many dollars…
I only have a vague idea of what minimalism might be in my life. Visually, I’ve always been drawn to scenes like this that I saw last week during my ride to work — empty places constructed of simple elements of shape, color and texture. With lots of stuff in my space, at home and at work, nothing is simple. I’m faced with a scream of chaotic material.
Rain can wash the world clean — in a figurative sense at least. Noise and activity is scaled back as a large part of daily living retreats toward shelter. On the road I’m left with the scooter and my thoughts. Sitting in my office I look around and see all the things that require attention — if only to throw them away. Postpone for a day and the collection grows.
Is it a coincidence so few people appear in my photographs? Or in my life? There was a time when I would self-identify as shy. Or anti-social. Now I recognize a strong need to be alone; with my thoughts. Not that I’m a deep thinker, but if I allow my thoughts to become as cluttered as the spaces around me, I’ll lose my mind. It will become, as a friend likes to describe things gone awry, a shit show.
Shit show.
I don’t know what’s ahead. I’ve shed my Leica rangefinder camera system. A mountain of photography books will be next along with clothes and shoes that should have been disposed of years ago. Tools and gadgets and a host of camping and backpacking gear silently await a similar fate.
Francine Jay lit a fuse with her book. Finally, after all these years, maybe there is some freedom on the road ahead.
I admire and envy your getting started on decluttering. I often think i’d like to do the same but I seem to stay on the treadmill of accumulation. I must not want it bad enough.
Maybe I should add that book… to my shelves full of books 😉
The resistance to stepping off the treadmill is strong. Homeostasis at work perhaps — our human biology is comfortable where it is and has difficulty making changes — even those that may do us good. Stopping smoking, leaving a battering spouse, changing diet and exercise habits — is it any wonder we can’t part with the box of tractor feed paper sitting in the basement now for 20 odd years? You know, someone may want to draw on that someday…
If you get the book — get rid of one first. That way you aren’t making things worse….
Ahhhh, Stuff, When i committed to make payments on my new used work truck, I really stopped & thought will this be used to make this life easier or to my ego sneak in to push me, On that thought, I miss the motorized two wheeler, its been 14 years since i had one, You satisfy me with this blog on the high lights of your rides, the pics are notable in my memory. I love the simple ride stuff, no need for noise barking through the countryside.
Good stuff My Friend.
It’s time to honor your Italian heritage Mike and get a Vespa. You’ve had enough trucks to last a lifetime. Have some fun. Give me a call and I’ll give you the keys to mine to go for a spin and you’ll see what you’re missing.
I have been working on decluttering for about a year. I think it will take the rest of my life, I’m OK with that.
It will probably take me the rest of my life too…
I hate to be a wet blanket but a scooter isn’t actually minimalist. Think of the maintenance requirements for that “Simple machine”. I got my first scooter and my late wife’s Rebel at the same time. The scooter has needed several tires, a pair of drive belts, numerous oil changes because of its small capacity and a battery. The Honda? A few oil changes and a new tire on each end plus the occasional two minute chain lubing.
Minimalism should be about less distractions. OK, a scooter is fun, simple to ride and it lets you exercise your wrenches, or Kessel’s, but distraction is its middle name.
A scooter is simple in terms of riding. Maintenance is another issue entirely. When I hear people talk about the economics of owning a Vespa I roll my eyes — you don’t get them to save money. You get them to ride.
My daughter’s Yamaha Vino — now there’s economy and simplicity…
We went through a purge a few months ago. Perhaps its time for another.
Purges are beneficial aren’t they?
“I like nice things” is what I said to a friend a few years ago when he commented on the many (nice) things we had in our house… I still like them.
But now – after almost 2 years of purging, selling, giving away – we are finally at the tail end of a lng planned intercontinental move from the U.S. to Germany and I can see the virtue of Less much more clearly. Sadly, our scooters had to go as well – no storage space, the need to aquire a German motorcycle license etc…
And while that ship with our container on board is slowly making its way over to the port in Germany, we will soon be packing two suitcases each, grabbing the cat carrier and making our way to the airport one last time…
I’ve already told my husband that if I ever move again it will only be with what fits into a suitcase. Life lessons which I imagine will be somewhat forgotten once we are settled in. Maybe I should order this book now before I fall back into old habits…
Sounds like you’re aiming for what a friend used to tell me, “I want all my possessions to fit in my van”. That lasted a short time, then he got married, they bought a big house, and proceeded to fill it with stuff….
And it all starts over… 😉
Seems like there should be some way, some chance, some hope to break that cycle.
I appreciate the minimalism philosophy, and I admire its practice. Though most folks wouldn’t call me a minimalist, I’ve tried for years to really think before acquiring: I try to make sure that a prospect (anything I might acquire) will fit into my life as my life is, that I’m likely to use it, whatever it is. (Am I a deliberatist, a wanna-be deliberatist? Wouldn’t assuming a label count against any simplicity I strive for? “Be a REAL minimalist—abandon that label.”)
If a prospect will require me to change the way I already spend my time, or will end up—over time—costing me, I want—if possible—to be aware of that before I take the plunge. When I add something to my life, I want to be adding value, to be enhancing my experience, not just adding another thing.
There does, however, seem to be one main pitfall to the minimalism philosophy, which really is no fault of minimalism but of its practitioners and its investigators: Many seem to think that minimalism is inflexible, is a concrete target, when it’s really specific to each practitioner (how many different recipes are there for apple pie?). One person’s minimalism might not resemble another’s.
I suspect that minimalism, or its achievement, lags behind one’s efforts: Rid yourself of some stuff and then give it a bit of time to see if minimalism has taken. If not, rid yourself of more and wait again. It would be distressing for one to rid recklessly and then realize that stuff wasn’t the problem in the first place, wasn’t the cause of the discomfort, the anxiety, the discontent, whatever.
Really enjoyed your comment, Ry.
I’m certainly no minimalist, though the idea is attractive. And I’m not a deliberatist since I have a pretty eclectic approach to things — all over the place and lose interest quickly. For now though I’m just trying to focus on a little simplification and see where it leads. Who knows where I’ll be with it down the road…
May I suggest placing your “being” in reverse!
After the diagnosis of my cancer figured plan for the worst!
So arranged for my entire funeral including cremation and disposal of the cremains in a marked inground plot beside my parents. Even had a stone marker made the way I wanted it to look, complete with a steam locomotive, early Honda Gold Wing and a large flower with a smiling face.
Then spoke with my solicitor, laid out my will so there would be no question; and appointed my executors.
Done!
Then and continuing is fill in the space between diagnosis and my date of expiry.
Our society as a whole tends to be an accumulator. Friends who move frequently have noted they have less stuff as every five years (or less) their possesions are stuffed into a container and go to some other international location. These friends work in the Canadian diplomatic service, and in the time I have known them have shifted countries seven times. And in spaces of time of less than five years!
In all the time I have known the couple, and their three now grown children they have never owned a television nor an automobile. The postings either provided transportation or they were where wheeled transport was impractical. They however all own bicycles!
Also they have never had a pet account different countries have different rules about allowing even domesticated animals.
Right now they are back in Canada, in Ottawa. They retire next year; both are government employees and they’ve decided to retire to Vancouver Island and have purchased a home there. Their first. Talked to them on Skype last week. No car will be purchased; rather a shared Vespa scooter! They had one during their posting to Rome and liked it! Their grown and married children however live all over the world where they work and raise their families. Ironically none of the children are in North America!
So at least Steve you’ve got one good thing on your side! The Vespa…
Since my heart attack I’ve not been any more motivated to update my will than I was before it happened. That kind of business is just so boring that I put it off. Something everyone should attend to I guess. Burial and such, not concerned but I have thought a lot about what to do with Scooter in the Sticks should I meet an unexpected end. I suppose we all have different ideas of what’s important.
Your friends — a home on Vancouver Island and a Vespa — sounds like a nice life. Any life with a Vespa is good!
Admirable goal. I once read an article that claimed that no one really needs more than about 250 items. I’m afraid that there is more in my toolbox than that. I’m still amazed at the stuff that I still have lying around. It isn’t likely that 20 year old technology will make a comeback.
Stuff accumulates fast. I’ve followed the 100 Things Project — can’t imagine ever getting to that level of ownership. But I can certainly cut back.
Isn’t riding a way of purging all the stuff from your mind and isn’t it great? (That is until you return home to all the stuff of reality.) Small steps.
If i quit falling on dog vomit etc. long enough to not be in pig squealin pain, I may start some blog about my dream world. Just gotta come up with a narrative voice that soundsvless like Suzy on Curb Your Enthusiasm and more like…wtf…some chick on Then Came Bronson. Oh Daddy daddy! Give me some! Wait a min.. I hear Christopher Walken… is gonna play you in the Stix movie. He knows those back roads. “Kid, you look a thousand miles from Tennessee to Toronto, I go back roads just about every place, never touch any of the state highways, never see one damn cop. Besides…this ain’t fast.” How about you and me step outside and start sniffing out some ideas. “Most people who drive thru here see farms. Houses, and fields, and shit. I see money, I see things, everything got my name writ on it!”
No need to post this ya know.
Dear Mrs Sticks,
How nice to see you comment. I’m never sure if you read any of my riding inspired drivel. Suzy on Curb Your Enthusiasm is an inspired character and I suspect we all have some of her in us. I don’t see you as her though. Or as one of the chicks on Then Came Bronson. You’re too complex for those simplified characters. I’ll have to think a bit before pinning a character on you.
As far as who would play me in the Stix movie — I hadn’t considered Christopher Walken as he appeared in “At Close Range” but he did love those back roads, much like I do. When I look in the mirror though I just don’t see Mr. Walken. Maybe when you look across the room you see him though…
For those not familiar with “At Close Range” — it’s one of Walken’s best performances in my opinion. A frightening character based on a fellow who was in prison just south of here…