Tuesday, July 21, 2015

And then there were seven.....

Socks that is.




I think I understand why a move toward minimalism seems to take a year or so, or at least many months.  I think it is because our senses get refined: the more stuff we unload, the more clearly we see what is around us.  It becomes easier to question "Why am I hanging on to that and what purpose does it serve?"

My most recent epiphany was in my underwear drawer.  Now in terms of full disclosure, I have had a completely unusable underwear drawer for over a decade (although to put things in perspective, one of my patients asked recently  "You only have one drawer for your delicates?" so maybe not so bad.)

Ok how many drawers should I have?  

With a less than 500 sq. foot apartment, drawer space is a premium, but again, since it is an unusable drawer filled to the brim with I don't know what, isn’t it wasted space?  I rarely find socks that match (even though I just washed and matched them – and yes, in the winter I often wear unmatched socks in my boots L).  The good (and boring) undies (you know your favorites) are on top of the ones you never wear (seductive but uncomfortable).

So as I de-clutter and “de-own” as Josh Becker likes to call it, a come-to-Jesus moment of truth took place with my underwear, a divinely inspired moment of clarity.   I turned it over on the bed like my grandmother used to do when we were kids if it wasn’t tidy enough,  while my dog Piglet looked on with interest, hoping for her chance to steal the socks.

I took out 7 pairs of socks, one for every day in winter.  I saved a few of pairs of gym/tennis socks since sometimes you do wear more than a pair in a day. One pair of panty hose in black and white.  One slip.  One cami.  Bras in the front.
(OMG I can FIND them, and who knew I had 5?).

Out went all the unmatched socks, the silly Christmas socks which I never wear (did I really need 6 pair with various kinds of snowmen?).  Ditto the uncomfortable underwear that promised so much but never actually delivered (you hear me Victoria’s secret?), all the tights and panty hose left over for a corporate life I no longer have. I don’t like to waste things so many of these items stayed regardless of the fact that I live in San Diego where open toed shoes are de rigour 9 months out of the year.  (But I might need them someday…)

Out went the extra jammies, I kept the newest.  The extra camis, the extra tee shirts and mis-matched workout clothes.  Everything paired down to 2.  My drawers are basically now only half full.

There is actually a bottom of the drawer visible.

Now if I don’t do laundry weekly there will be no socks or undies to wear, and putting the clothes away is a pleasure simply because they all fit without me stuffing them in.

I finally have an underwear drawer that would make Grandma proud.



Sunday, July 19, 2015

Buyers Remorse

Buyers remorse seems to be a common affliction for aspiring minimalists.  As we start to go through the towering heaps, regret for the wasted money is inevitable.  I am no exception.   I have been moving in this direction for a long time, and being mindful about purchases is a long-time habit, so I have been paring down my wardrobe in particular for the last few years.  Insightful advice about purchases, such as "If it's a maybe, it's a no"  have already prevented me from some unnecessary items over the last few years. Likewise, recognizing that if I need something, and buy something on sale which fills the need, but in fact wasn't what I wanted, I tend not to ... (wear it, use it, insert verb here)

Surprisingly this lesson was inspired by a gift from my sister a few years ago.  In one of her many travels to southern California for work, she brought me a very generous gift.  Someone had gifted her a Coach bag (actually two of them) and she did not like the color of one of them so gave it to me.  I thought she was crazy, it was gorgeous, a perfect color, perfect size.  She was also honest enough to acknowledge that she wasn't going to use it since she had one she liked better.

Ok can I just say.....  I. Love. This. Bag.  Perfect travel size, goes with all my stuff (or what's left of it), fits all essentials in the plane, really classy for going out.

And I would never have bought one for myself.  (It's a  COACH, and I am an acupuncturist. Not in the budget). 
( I buy bags on clearance from Ross or JC Penney's).

As I began clearing out my closets over the last few months, again With an eye to rigorous honesty about my stuff, I realized that in the last couple of years since receiving said bag, that I only use a few of them.  My coach bag of course, a few others for every day, one basic black for dress-up.  That was it.  All of the others, nada.  Zip. Zilch.  Zero.  Little to no use.

(aarrgghh, Melting.  Regret.
Here starts the buyers remorse, since 10 cheap bags more than makes up for that nice bag).

Minimalism is not about cheap, not about punishment or going without.  It IS about looking at what adds value to our life and pleasure, and personal freedom.  And exploring how much of my time am I willing to trade for that freedom.

As a small business owner, I have already been doing that for years, specifically the idea of time for money.   Since I am in solo practice with limited staff, there is a physical limit to the number of clients I can see per day, per hour.  How many patients per hour does it take to pay for that purchase, and is it worth it?  More often than not, my time was more valuable to me than going to that store on a crowded weekend to save $15.  So I have been headed here for a while.  However, we get into habits, or go unconscious in certain areas of our life, or get seduced by pithy advertising campaigns that promise so much and rarely deliver.  I am no exception.  That next great thing in fact did not change my life.

So what did I do with this realization?   (squirm)  

I gave most of the bags to friends, and donated the rest.  Most of these were brand new, rarely if ever used.  The look on the face of the folks at Goodwill was utter shock.  Who gives away that kind of nice stuff?

My shame has been mitigated by their pleasure, knowing someone will use them with joy.  
And hopefully I won't jump down that rabbit hole again.  

Buy one thing of value, use it with gratitude until it wears out.  Replace with one. 
Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Thank you "Auntie" Kiki for a timeless lesson.  

Stuff and Nonsense



Apropos of nothing, first let me say that I LOVE this ad.  The Kona Brewing ad campaign  isn’t just clever, (they get people like me to giggle even though I don’t drink beer)  it is downright brilliant and a call to mindfulness.  Why not make 1 hour sad hour and the rest 23 happy?  Genius.

For all its cuteness, this ad begs attention to some more fundamental questions:

What is it all for?
How much do I really need?
What is the meaning of life?

Maybe not in so many terms, but it manages to at least get you thinking.  How much of our freedom are we sacrificing to our stuff, our pursuit of stuff (physical stuff, emotional stuff, existential stuff like love, security, health) and our organizing of our stuff?  And what is the price for that freedom? 

My students and some of my patients, know I am exploring the concepts of minimalism as part of an ongoing inner dialog about the meaning of life, my purpose here, where can I find balance (or is there balance?)  This is due, in part, to treating some incredibly sick people in the clinic, and a peri-menopausal hormone-induced existential crises.

Recently inspired by swapping out some old furniture and the opportunity to repaint and de-clutter, in the last 12 weeks, I have been “moving without moving” as I like to call it.  And while I have not taken the “pack-your-entire apartment-and-only-keep-what you need for 30 days, donate the rest”  plunge as aspiring minimalists espouse, I am giving every single thing in my life a level of scrutiny not even encountered in my last move across country  (Did I REALLY pay someone to move this from New York? What was I THINKING?).

As I strive for rigorous honesty in my possessions inventory, it is amazing the mind-tape which proclaims that I might need this someday,  frequently referred to as the "just-in-case" items.  When preparing to donate several hundred dollars of beautiful clothing which I have not used or worn in a decade (I no longer work in the finance industry or at a major university), the voice loudly insists that I may need that sweater in case global warming changes the ocean currents, plunging us into a new ice age (I live in San Diego).  Likewise the sleeping-bag-with-arms inspired coat that was my outerwear when I lived in the big apple.  I am learning that it is important to give this voice a platform instead of suppressing it.  It is a protective voice born of deprivation, stress, years of not getting basic needs met.  In short, it is trying to keep me safe.

The problem with these inner voices is that we seldom question the truth in our running dialog. 

Moving toward a minimalist lifestyle seems to be, for me at any rate, part of being mindful.  I frequently remind my patients that not everything we believe is the truth (this usually in response to some health practice they have been following which does them no benefit and wastes time and/or money). Likewise, not everything I think about stuff and security is true.

What are the essentials?

So many of the minimalist-inspired blog talk is about a return to basics or exploring what is essential for them.  Again, those values are individual and should not be judged.  The idea is to do-away with things (stuff) that interferes with those essentials.  Hmmmm…
Essentials in  my life that are important and give value and meaning to my life, and these are in no particular order:

Meaningful work
Personal growth
Friends
Family
MUSIC
Spiritual path
Exercise
Quiet
TRAVEL
Writing
Teaching
Maintenance of health – body, mind, spirit
Financial clarity

Note that work is only part of this long list and yet it takes up 90% of my time, and has for the last 17 years, leaving precious little leftover for the rest.  Interesting that lots of “things” isn't part of the list, neither is home ownership at this point.  


In reading the wonderful essays from Josh and Ryan on “The Minimalists.com”, both of them had “soul-sucking” jobs at which they both excelled leaving them with little to no time for the rest of their lives along with mountains of personal debt (in spite of 6-figure salaries).  

As an acupuncturist  I don't make a lot of money, so living within my means has been a long-time habit.  But can I do better?  Can I pare things down further to allow more freedom for what is important to me?

Let's see.....