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Hi, I'm Jen and I'm a minimalist.
I don't think it means what you think it means.
OK, all right.
I'm not obviously a minimalist to most people's way of thinking.
If you've watched other videos by me, you'll know that I have more bookshelves, also full, covered in tchotchkes, and every flat surface in my home has something, if not multiple things, upon it.
And if you want to exit out of this video and call me delusional, well, at first glance, I understand.
But if you can stick with me for eight minutes, I bet I can change your mind.
And I might even unveil you as a minimalist, too.
You see, there are literally hundreds of videos out there on minimalism on YouTube, on the internet, everywhere, which focus mainly on decluttering, purging, simplifying, other terms like that.
And if you were to vastly oversimplify minimalism, then getting rid of stuff, stopping buying stuff, and living a simple, quiet life in the countryside devoid of stuff would be what most people think it is.
And those people would be mostly wrong.
I live in the country.
You see, at its core, minimalism isn't really about getting rid of everything and purging everything and decluttering everything and not buying anything without getting rid of something first.
At its core, minimalism is about control, making conscious decisions to control your environment, your thinking, your relationships, your time and energy, your focus and attention.
And yes, your money.
Control.
For great swaths of the population, making a decision, let alone a conscious decision about anything can be alarmingly difficult, if not impossible.
And it's because they're constantly being distracted and fed information from a myriad of different sources and having their attention diverted.
They have no time to sort through and make sense of any of it.
In order to make any kind of decision, let alone a good one, you need to be able to focus on good information from reliable sources and have the time, energy and attention span available to process it.
Here comes minimalism.
If you pare down everything in your life to only things which have usefulness and meaning to you, if you're intentional about what you allow to come into your life, and in both cases, the paring down and the letting in, this includes people, possessions, information, then you won't have distractions, clutter and diversions.
You'll have created a life where you're free to be joyful, creative and worry-free.
Decision-making becomes easy when you're the one in control of all of the carefully curated inputs.
If like me, you're not distracted by having tchotchkes all over your desk, cool.
If you need a soundproof room in beige in order to work productively, also cool.
That's because there's no one size fits all formula to creating this minimalist life, but the end goal is the same for everyone.
Joshua Becker of Becoming Minimalist offers this definition.
Minimalism is the intentional promotion of the things that bring you joy and the removal of those that do not.
If you eliminate everything in your life that doesn't serve you, your goals, your purpose, your health, your wellbeing, then you're a minimalist.
And minimalism is a path, a never-ending path.
It's a journey.
It's not an item that you can just tick a box and say, okay, done for the day.
Every day you're presented with choices, with options, with scenarios, and you need to make that faithful decision every time.
Will this serve me?
Will this fit into my plan?
And if so, how?
And so I am a minimalist.
I love having my things around me.
I love my books, real books, used and scenting this little cave of an office that I live in for eight hours every day.
Bibliosmia.
Yes, there's a word for what old books smell like.
Bibliosmia.
I love it.
And even though this office is, I mean, it's for work, I love it.
I love being in here.
I've made it a welcoming place for me.
A hug.
It's personal, it's comfortable, and it's comforting.
I couldn't stay eight hours a day in a space that was all straight lines, gray, uncluttered and impersonal without having my productivity being severely hampered.
Practical and functional doesn't have to mean sparse and bare for me.
It might be that that's what it takes to make you more productive.
I understand that a lot of people think that the busyness of having shelves full and surfaces covered with objects is just too distracting, and they need a quiet visual field in order to focus and be productive.
That's just not for me.
I can focus fine.
I need the comforting presence of my stuff to feel creative and centered.
So for me, having my shelves full and stuff on countertops is serving me and serving my path.
But it doesn't for the vast majority of people who are also striving to be minimalist.
But I do have areas of common ground with my fellow wannabe declutterers.
Now everybody who follows my channel, watches my videos, knows that I am not a clothes horse.
But Ms. Westwood does make an excellent broader point.
Choose well.
Choose something, whether it be a piece of clothing, a microwave, or a new friend, that you'll wear, use, read, listen to, or admire for the longterm with the intention of keeping it forever.
Spend the time, the energy, the money to make that happen.
Look, I know you can't buy a microwave that will last 30 years, but that is kind of my goal.
I have a lot of books, books that I'll never in a million years trade in or give away or recycle.
But in the last 10 years, I've been trying to upgrade my book game.
Let go of some of the beaten up, ragged, cheaper purchases from my lean younger years and replace them with first editions.
I still buy other books as well.
You've seen me with my book haul from the Victoria Hughes book sale.
Not a first edition in sight, but I have definitely narrowed my focus when it comes to my book buying.
And this quality thing applies to relationships as well.
When you're young and you're trying to fit in, having a lot of friends is a good thing.
It's the goal.
I'm an introvert, so I don't have, need, or want a lot of people in my life.
But being a minimalist, or maybe just being older and wiser, makes me look at new friendships and evaluate them for usefulness and longevity.
Does this new person take more than they give?
Am I left at a deficit every time I interact with them?
Do they add to my life, my health, my goals, or take away?
Recognizing quality, prioritizing it, and letting go of or upgrading the things in my life that have served their purpose applies not just to possessions, but to people too.
I smile at the memories of my ratty, cheap, falling apart at the spine copy of Wuthering Heights that I bought in university and upgrade to...
Okay, not a first edition.
I can't afford that.
But just upgrade it.
That's for me.
I quietly, gently, but firmly let go of a friendship that has run its course.
The friend who's chronically negative.
That kind of energy is draining.
They're on their own path.
And while I might be adding benefit to their life by being encouraging and understanding all the time, they're not adding anything to mine.
Quality is a long game.
Quality requires money and emotional maturity.
And I mean, you can only afford what you can afford.
So this is a work in progress for me.
It's a journey.
But quality is always a factor in my decision-making.
The books behind me?
Now, I'm just going to continue using my books as an example, but you should feel free to swap them out for something that brings you joy and that will be with you on your journey to a minimalist lifestyle.
Some of these books are older than me.
I found them in used bookstores, in attics, in book bins.
And they're not on my bookshelf because they're old or because they smell nice, but they smell nice.
They're there because I chose them.
I chose every single one of them, and I can tell you a story about each one of them.
They mean something to me.
Buying bulk books so I can decorate my bookshelf with spines of all the same color to match the vibe of the room?
That's not what I'm about.
Those books have no stories to them.
They have no meaning to me.
I would never do that.
It's the same when I travel, mementos, souvenirs.
I rarely buy the snow globes, the fridge magnets, the straw hats, the T-shirts, the beer cozies.
I just don't do it.
Those things have no meaning to me.
I will buy a piece of jewelry, though, purchased from a local artisan of wherever I am, something that speaks to me, something that will continue to speak to me and bring back memories of that trip, of that place whenever I wear it.
It certainly won't end up in a junk drawer or the garbage.
I intentionally chose it, and it has meaning to me.
Intentionally add and keep things that have meaning to you and be done with the rest.
Essential things are things that you just can't do without, and no more.
It is the pursuit of less stuff, yes, but it's also discovering and pursuing priorities that are important to you, rather than jumping on the bandwagon of whatever is trending on TikTok today.
So while I may have multiple copies of the same book, I do.
I have one phone, and I keep it for longer than the three-year period my provider gives it to me for.
I have one car.
It's a basic car.
It gets me from A to B.
I have one shovel for my garden.
It's a quality shovel.
I will be leaving it in my will to my nieces.
I use it for every digging job that I have.
Edging, planting, digging rocks out of the ground.
I use that shovel for everything, just one.
I have one frying pan.
I have one pot.
I use one pot for 95% of my pot cooking needs.
I have another pot that's bigger for large recipes, but that's it.
That's all I've got to cook with.
For me, paring down to the essentials is a personal thing, and it will be for you too.
Perhaps cooking is your passion, and while two pots is a pared-down essential for me, that sounds insane to you.
You would view six pots as essential, and only one bookshelf, but maybe you would have six copies of The Joy of Cooking.
I get you.
This one is a hard one for a lot of people, but being a minimalist means prioritizing your own needs and wants, your agenda, your path, your journey.
Being selfish about only purchasing stuff that suits your purpose instead of following the crowd, only doing activities that enhance your journey, even if you have to do them alone, can take some time to get used to, but in the end, you get the hang of it.
But if a person in your life is taking more than they're giving in terms of time, effort, positive energy, support, or just plain companionship, then they're not serving you.
They're not adding to your growth.
They're not helping you along your journey.
They're distracting you from joy.
This is a pretty big ask for people when it comes to family, and it's a really big struggle for people who are more empathetic, the helpers.
But just like oxygen masks on airplanes, you need to help yourself first before you can help others.
If you don't, you will find yourself cluttering your own life with other people's priorities and not your own.
Now, I'm not saying that I don't help people and I don't put up with annoying people in my life.
I do.
But there's a sliding scale to that kind of commitment.
And I put my needs first on that scale at the heavy end of it.
And the needs of the people that I'm helping or putting up with on the other end of the scale, the lighter end.
They get the lighter end and they come second, but they're still there.
Am I perfect about this minimalist mindset of mine?
No, no, no, no.
I mean, I have a curious mind and I willingly try new things.
And I get caught up in new hobbies quickly because I like the adrenaline rush I guess you get when you discover something new and creative and all of the accoutrements which go with it.
And I'm not gonna beat myself up about having books and hobbies in excess of what I could get by with.
That's an exercise in self-sabotage.
Minimalism is about gaining joy, clarity, and control over a spiraling life of excess and clutter.
And my books and my joy in discovering new creative pursuits, they don't make me feel spirally.
They make me feel the opposite.
So I'm not militant about paring down my possessions to absolute essentials, but I am acutely aware of the benefits of channeling my time, my energy, my attention and effort, and also my money into only things that matter to me.
And I weigh and I judge every person, every opportunity, every thought, everything that wants to come into my sphere.
And I say to myself, will I come out ahead if I say yes?
Will I accomplish my goals?
Will this help me on my journey?
Will it teach me something I need to know or introduce me to something new and exciting?
Will it bring ease and comfort and joy to my life?
How can this new thing that wants to come into my world benefit me?
And if I can't answer in the affirmative to any of those questions, then the person, the thought, the opportunity, the thing gets gently left behind.
And I think that makes me a minimalist, doesn't it?
What about you?
Leave me a comment.