Low Buy, High Joy: Another Year of Minimalism
A friend of mine expressed interest in doing a “low-buy” year and asked if anyone wanted to join her.
“Why not?” I thought. I already have a low-buy life, so I told her to count me in.
I am a huge fan of taking the time to enjoy things and enjoying them proactively. I love my husband, I love my apartment, I love my teacup collection, etc. I could go on like this all day, and it’s actually a learned behavior that I can go on like this all day.
For me, it’s taken practice to be able to focus my attention on the joy and pleasure of life even while plenty of things I don’t like are going on. One of the things that makes it easier for me to enjoy what I have is minimalism. On a basic level, I find it easier to appreciate 3 things than 300.
People in my life have asked me what it is about minimalism that I like so much, and I typically have a tough time explaining on the spot. Here goes:
Aesthetically, I find minimalism to be beautiful. It’s pure personal preference. I adore blank walls, hard floors, solid colors, no colors, empty spaces, strikingly clean and austere design. To me, minimalism reads as luxurious. Free time, free space, curated possessions. It’s like living in my own personal art museum.
Practically, minimalist spaces are easier for me to manage. I have fewer objects to maintain and less to clean. The cleaning itself is easier, because there are very few objects for me to navigate around while I’m dusting, wiping, and vacuuming.
Emotionally, minimal spaces feel quiet to me. They meet my need for peace in a busy, noisy world. I love for my home to feel like a sanctuary, and it does. When I need to recharge and restore, I go home.
Values-wise, I prefer to keep my environmental impact small. In my opinion, the simplest way to support the environment (and the one least marketed) is to buy less.
It’s been 5 years now, since I started my own minimalist journey, and I’ve become used to living in a minimalist home. What once seemed extraordinary is now my normal living environment. I don’t love minimalism any less, but I do notice it less, and that is my motivation for a low buy year.
Once the thrill of newness has worn off of something, we can choose how to respond. We can feel bored, we can move onto something else, or we can go deeper on the same path. I chose to go deeper. (Fellow Forrest Yogis, this is probably no surprise!)
For me, going deeper into minimalism does NOT mean that I am going to start discarding more stuff. It means I am turning my attention back to what made me fall in love with it in the first place: beauty, peace, ease, order, and freedom.
Here are some of the ways I’ve been actively enjoying minimalism in this low-buy year:
Unitasking. I don’t think it’s a word, but I do think it gets the point across. Some examples of unitasking in my life are cooking with no music on, eating meals with no tech at the table, and folding laundry with exclusively my own thoughts for company. In other words, just cooking, just eating, and just folding laundry. Whenever I get out of the habit of doing these things mindfully, the first few times back feel very uncomfortable. I’ll find myself procrastinating, and it will usually take a few tries. The reward is well worth it to me though. After I pass through the initial awkwardness of slowing down, I feel so much happier and more grounded. I feel how much I love my life, instead of just intellectually knowing it.
Solitude. The solitude I’m talking about is the profound quiet of unplugging from external input. No podcasts, no books, no conversations. Really, it’s a vacation from other people’s opinions. This usually happens for me during my “unitasking,” and I consider it to be quality time with myself. Me and my thoughts and my feelings spending time together, just us. As with the unitasking, there is some awkwardness while I slow down from the speed of normal life to reach this slower place. For me, it’s worth it.
Using what I have. One of the biggest changes in my life after I completed my own KonMari tidy up was that I started using my favorite things instead of saving them for a special occasion. I started treating life as a special occasion. So while I am not buying myself new things, I am using my favorite things. I drink my most posh tea. I lounge around in a silk camisole. I even (gasp!) discarded my old sewing machine needles and started using the fresh and luxurious new set that I’ve already owned for months.
Caring for what I have. On a long enough timeline, all objects deteriorate. In my life, as I use my things freely, they wear out sooner. In general, I try to mend garments and remove stains before buying new ones. When our knives get dull, Mike sharpens them. That’s why owning 3 knives is more than enough: they’re always sharp. I have found that the more energy and care I invest into my things, the more pleasure they bring me. That pleasure tends to last longer and feel richer for me than the thrill of a new purchase.
Talking about what I have. I love to talk about hopes and dreams for the future, but I take just as much pleasure in talking about what I love in my life already. Mike and I talk about how much we are enjoying the quality of food we are able to source, how good it feels to own clothing that we like, and how much we enjoy using the furniture we have designed and built together. I have these conversations with clients as well. For me, it’s taken courage to sit with the pride and joy and gratitude I feel in my life. When I overcome the discomfort of slowing down and I overcome the voice in my head that says it might be bragging or bad luck to feel this proud and happy, I’m so glad I did. All the success in the world results in no happiness, if we skip over all the celebrating.
Making do. I let things run out. I like to think I live on the edge in a thousand little ways. Getting all the way down to the last roll of toilet paper. Using up the mustard and not immediately replacing it. Sure, there are things that I don’t like to run out of, but overall I have found that life with only one set of sheets (yes one, no emergency backup) is just fine, and honestly, more fun. Maybe there will be some horrible accident and rain will pour in the window and soak the sheets. We’re doomed! Actually, we’ll just sleep on the couch, and it’ll be a funny story. The stories we all tell and the small adventures we have come from making do and being creative in the face of inconvenience and discomfort. Problem solving can be immensely satisfying and life affirming. I don’t like to have soooo much comfort that I forget how to live.
So why a low buy year? Because in the face of all the marketing in the world, it’s sometimes tough for me to hear the much quieter lure of peace and beauty. I’ve almost bought a new eyeshadow 4 or 5 times this year. A low buy year reminded me of the potential upside of passing on that purchase. In addition to spending $0 on eyeshadow and creating no new waste, I’ve started using the one I already own more often, and I did some research on how to use it more effectively. Perhaps I would have done that even if I bought the new one, but I doubt it.
Cheers to recommitting to a life that I love. I wish you the same!