I was always attracted to the snail ethos. Carrying your home on your back, fitting it all into a backpack and all that.
Which is not to say I'm there. I'm quite a long way away, but today I'm taking a moment to reflect on what sparked my interest in minimalism. I wasn't always a minimalist, but I was always a bit outside the norm. Meaning I always harbored a fair share of disdain towards excessive consumerism.
Weirdly enough, it was my non-minimalist friends who, it could be argued, turned me onto the practice. As a young teen, my best friend came from a fairly lavish family. Her parents worked a lot and spared no expense for their little princess. So naturally, she was quite snobbish. Only the best will do mentality, which is something I agree with, but not when it comes to trivial things like clothes.
Where once we were on fairly similar mentalities, we kinda grew apart and much of her focus turned to spending more and more. On everything -- clothes, jewelry, trips, everything needed to be the most luxurious and expensive. And I've never appreciated that mindset, the need to spend excessively to prove you're "someone".
Down the years, I've met many people like her. Just last week, I went out with a sort-of-friend whom I had previously cut out of my life precisely because of this sort of empty mentality. For whom spending was a way of life. Unlike my previous friend, this one works for her money, yet is always complaining of a lack of funds. It seems logical to me that cutting back on needless expenses might be a good way to get a few more funds in, you know? Alas, that logic doesn't seem to enter in her view.
So looking back on how I got into the whole minimalist view, I'd say the people around me played an important role.
Growing up, I also sort of amassed a mountain of things. Clothes were always spilling out of my closet, books, knick-knacks. My once large room had become a safety hazard, mostly for my refusal to throw stuff out rather than continually buying new things. So I developed an anxiety around cramped, crowded spaces.
My flat now features lots of empty spaces, lots of room to move. And I love it.
What friends and lack of room failed to accomplish, travel finalized. A couple years ago, when hitting the road for a few months, I knew I would never be a backpacking kinda girl. I need a few too many things. So I relented and ended up with a crammed backpack, a shoulder bag (also crammed) for my laptop, as well as a 30+ kg suitcase. Let me tell you, lugging that monster around Europe was an excellent cure for my hoarding tendencies.
I often laugh now when discussing travel that there's no point trying to dissuade a heavy packer. Just let them struggle with all the luggage for a while, that's an instant cure for next trip. Which I'm actually contemplating now, and it's going to be markedly different from the first. I sometimes look at all the stuff I took with me the first time and think, what the hell did I need that for?
I've found, in travel as in life, the more stuff you force yourself to carry, the harder and more depressing the journey becomes.
So while I'm still a long way from hoisting my home on my back, like a snail, I'm working my way towards it. Weirdly enough, I'm much much happier. This was a response to this week's Minimalist #KISS prompt asking
What sparked your minimalist journey? Tell us about the life factors, media, and loved ones that influenced your lifestyle change.