From materialism to minimalism. Sort of.

My views on minimalism, what having less has taught me and what I think the future holds

Photo by Phil on Unsplash

I would never have chosen to live a minimal life, with the old me of a few years ago too preoccupied with having it all. Instead it’s rather just happened, and I’m still figuring out what it means to me and how I’ll incorporate minimalism into my life going forward. For those who are new around here, first of all, welcome! Second of all, let me get you up to speed. In 2022 my husband and I sold our house, quit our jobs and gave up our lives in the UK to travel Europe in our camper van. Fast forward to today and we’ve since sold our camper to buy a 4x4 complete with a roof tent. We are continuing to travel Europe whilst working towards our dream of setting up a life over here.

Travelling in a vehicle, be it a camper or a car, brings with it a sense of freedom. It enables you to be light on your feet as you can’t overload yourself with unnecessary belongings. The majority of our things, the important things, travel along with us. Then back in the UK, safely stored with family, are a few left over items we couldn’t rid ourselves of¹. Everything else from our house we sold as we didn’t want the burden or the ties. Sure, we could have paid for storage but the desire to be free from burden was stronger than the desire to keep certain belongings. A clean slate, freedom, lightness, was what we craved. And it’s what we achieved. There was no deeper meaning behind it, there was no burning desire to become minimalistic.

Believe me when I say that I was the person who bought all the stuff, particularly during the covid years when life was sucked dry. I shouldn’t complain too much as I was fortunate enough to keep my job whilst working from home, with my husband furloughed on full pay. But with nowhere to go to spend my money, I filled the void with a daily delivery from the postman. The parcels became my small moments of joy within an otherwise dull existence. Jo Malone candles and hand wash. A million Zara hauls. ByTerry make up. Estée Lauder skincare. Fortnum and Mason hampers. I’m not in anyway saying these things are bad - I still love all of these things - but what I’m not so keen on is the thought process behind the purchasing of such things.

You see, they were all acts of justification of the life I was living. I didn’t need luxury skincare or make up. I didn’t need the clothes from Zara. I wasn’t even leaving the house! I think back to before lockdown when I was looking at buying a new car. I had secured a new job and suddenly my old Ford Fiesta didn’t fit my “image” anymore. I’ve never cared for cars but I was working hard and wanted something to show for it. I’m glad I didn’t make the initial payment as six weeks later we were in lockdown with my car not leaving the drive for months. I think the state of the world got inside my head that year as I started searching for something, anything, to get me out of the funk I was in and to help me look like I was living life. We even started considering moving home, stretching ourselves to a bigger house, an even more oppressive mortgage. It would be a better house in a more sought after location to match this new “image” I’d created for myself in my head.

Then one day, as we began talking about the possibility of leaving all the baggage behind, I realised that all of the years of me eagerly and enthusiastically scurrying on the hamster wheel had made me materialistic. I didn’t want to be that person anymore. That person would have absolutely remained if we hadn’t of made the change. I’m pleased to say that, as of now, my thoughts are quite literally in the opposite direction. I don’t need a big house with a mortgage up to my eyeballs or a shiny car to drive 12 miles a day. I also don’t need heaps of clothes or random stuff as I know now that buying stuff for the sake of buying stuff will not make me happy and that buying stuff to justify my life will not make my life any better. Instead, I’m trying to lean into intentional buying. I might want the stuff but do I need it? It can be hard to separate the wanting from the needing, especially when sometimes you just reeeally want it!

When we were back in the UK in the summer, we had a number of special family occasions to attend. I set myself the challenge of not buying any new clothes, and to instead re-wear one of the many dresses or skirts or tops that I decided to keep before heading off travelling. Reader, I did it, and you know what, I still felt fabulous. I did however find myself slipping into familiar behaviour patterns of perusing the Zara app and liking any items which took my fancy. Usually I wouldn't think twice about adding all of those items to my basket, but what I did instead was close the app, put my phone away and then in five minutes I’d completely forgotten them. This proves the compulsion is purely one of want, as opposed to need.

So, what do I think of when I think of minimalism? The obvious answer is to say it makes me think of less stuff, which it does, but it also makes me think of freedom. I see it as an opportunity to remove excesses from my life that no longer serve me, allowing me the time and space to do things I actually enjoy. Those excesses can be physical things or it can be reclaiming time back from areas of your life which add no real value. I see it as a tool to find purpose and contentment from my life as opposed to from the things within it. I think there is probably a spectrum - as there is with most things - with extremes at each end. I like to think I lie somewhere in the middle. I didn’t embark on minimalism on purpose so I’m enjoying defining it for myself and my own life. I’m also not a huge fan of labels, not wanting to be constrained by a certain definition of the way I choose to live my life.

Next year when we’re back living in a house, setting up a stable life and earning money again, my aim is to avoid the creeping onset of the “more’ mentality. I don’t want to make my life big again. I want simplicity, I want my world to remain small. My cravings for simplicity and slowness are now reflected in my hopes and dreams for the future. What I’ve noticed this past year or so is that being small has meant less commitments, it’s provided the ability to take risks, we’ve been able to be nimble, agile, as we navigate through our days. My mind, albeit still busy, is less busy. I focus on intention as opposed to whim. I’ve grown accustomed to a life with less stuff. Of course, I still want to buy stuff and I still want a home filled with things I love, along with nice clothes and good skincare and to go out for delicious dinners. I don't, however, want to fall into the same trap of feeling like I need to justify my existence through the purchasing of things. Instead I want to use my money - and my free time which I plan to have a lot more of - intentionally, and in a way that makes me feel fulfilled and content and gratified.

I suppose the overarching goal is to create more balance, balancing a life of minimalism, of living with more intention and free time and enjoyment but also to pepper it with material things that enrich my life for the better.

I would love to know what your views on minimalism are and whether you live a more minimalistic lifestyle! I hope you’ll join me in the comments below 💜

And thank you as always for being here! I would be very grateful if you shared or liked or re-stacked or commented if anything you've read today resonated with you 🙏🏻

1. For full disclosure (because I want this to be a space of honesty and trust), one of my belongings I didn’t sell was my beautiful Aspinal of London handbag. This was a birthday treat to myself a couple of years ago and selling it wasn’t an option. It’s a timeless bag that will last me, I hope, forever. I would like over the years to invest in more pieces such as this as opposed to falling back on fast disposable fashion. I don’t know if this goes against “minimalism” but as I said, I’m working on defining my own version that fits into the life I want to live 💜