The Journey to Change is Littered with Adverts
Back when I started this blog I wasn’t really sure what its purpose was going to be. Simple living? What does that even mean really?
Frugality? Minimalism? DIY? More free time? All of these things, I think. I wrote quite a bit about this before, and didn’t come to any conclusion except it was going to be a good personal project.
The journey to change is definite and gradual. It’s a big picture. A pattern. Full of ‘for sale’ listings.
Watching the Minimalists Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things brought home that point even further.
As I watched their workmanlike and uplifting trip across the United States it reaffirmed for me that many aspects of simple living, minimalism, whatever you want to call it change slowly over time.
Minimalism is just a word for something that is in fact very lateral and broad and challenging to the very nature of consumerist, neo-capitalist society.
Watching Josh and Ryan work at spreading their message is the reality of change needed. Demand on resources needs to collapse. It takes work. And just look where it’s going now.
The changes grow from intention, they don’t just happen, at least not in a sustained way.
Despite some efforts on the downsizing front, living at home after returning from being abroad existing from a rucksack has only confirmed to me the amount of shite I still own.
I woke up the other morning, with a crystal clear vision: fuck it, sell the rest. The final round.
We are moving into an apartment I bought soon, and the idea of a clear out holds water. The trick is to avoid the accumulation starting all over again.
I’ve already sold lots of my former possessions, but the process is much trickier than I thought. It’s hard to overstate how difficult and time consuming it is to offload your accumulated possessions onto others. They almost sense the trick, especially when they pay you for the privilege.
The more stuff I sell, I genuinely feel more freedom. Is it weird to feel excited about the thought of fitting all my non-fixed possessions, excluding bikes, into the back seat of a car? Maybe, but that’s where I have myself these days.
When most people have so much stuff, cutting back on it radiates freedom. The effect is real and perhaps only noticeable as its hold decreases in line with its aggregate mass. Something like gravity.
When few people have cars, cars mean freedom. When everybody has cars, cars mean sitting in endless lines, emitting pollution, and not having a car means freedom – Jacob Lund Fisker (ERE)
Anyone else out there getting rid of stuff and enjoying it?