(Does an assassin count?)
Real quick, the seriousness of the title of this blog makes me feel kind of uncomfortable.
This past weekend I decided I wanted to be a minimalist.
I have been following this Facebook Page called Becoming a Minimalist and they posted a photo that read: It costs $0.00 to be a decent person: well, great because that’s my remaining balance in my savings account after buying the new laptop I didn’t actually need, and … probably not going to return either.
So I told my family and like the MVPs that they are, they provided me with a mixture of laughter and forced support. But I don’t blame them, a couple of weeks ago I asked my dad if it was too late to attend Med school after finishing a Grey’s binge, so I accepted their feels.
But my little sister (eehhh, I use little tentatively, she took an online quiz once and it predicted that she was like forty. The lady is wise as shit), the angel that she is, told me she would pay me $100, basically equivalent to like $500 for us millennials, if I went 3 months without buying: clothes, shoes, and makeup.
I HAD HEART PALPITATION, GUYS. Nearly had to feel my pulse to see if I was still there. 3 months? DID YOU KNOW THAT TWO YEARS IN DOG YEARS IS EQUAL TO 10.5 IN HUMAN?– well now you do, and that’s how long the first day felt after I accepted this outrageous deal.
So I left Maine on Saturday, got home around like 8ish—for those of you stalking me, and stayed up until 4 am deep cleaning my room. And most of you reading this probably know me and know how much I detest cleaning. In high school I told my mom I couldn’t clean the bathroom because the cleaner she made me use gave me headaches—which was a lie. (Sorry, mom … but I still don’t regret it.)
Bags and bags. I got rid of clothes, cleaned out my junk drawer, my closet … kept all my shoes. But I got shit done and I was amped. That was really hard for me! The only thing me and minimal had it common was my attempts of getting rid of things, so you guys, this was huge.
Before I get to the next part let me just provide you with my assumed definition of being a minimalist: a person who doesn’t own as much make up as I do, a person who doesn’t spend as much money on shoes, sunglasses, and books that I do, and a person who cuts up their credit cards, like I should do.
Ehhh … (And I am Canadian so it’s acceptable for me to use that) … I gotta say that I was wrong. Not even like minimally (proceed to chuckle) wrong, but like really, freaking wrong.
Let me break this down for you:
Joshua Fields Millburn & Ryan Nicodemus are minimalist gurus and they really have their lives figure out (rude, to brag guys, really, really rude).
And their definition of minimalism is: “a tool that can assist you in finding freedom. Freedom from fear. Freedom from worry. Freedom from overwhelm. Freedom from guilt. Freedom from depression. Freedom from the trappings of the consumer culture we’ve built our lives around. Real freedom.”
Baaaaaack the heck right uppppp, do you guys work 40 hours a week? At a call center? Or anywhere else in the world for a company that requires 8 hours a day—and that’s on a good day. What about nurses who world like 27 hours in one day—I got you guys, I support you. But seriously, what do you guys do with your lives? Just with my eating habits alone I feel guilt everyday.
But then I searched further and found this instead: “It’s simply getting rid of things you do not use or need, leaving an uncluttered, simple environment and an uncluttered, simple life. It’s living without an obsession with material things or an obsession with doing everything and doing too much. It’s using simple tools, having a simple wardrobe, carrying little and living lightly.”
So my rage chilled a bit, because I liked the idea of carrying little everyday, my purse is heavy and I think it leaves actual indents on my shoulder. I have no idea how Mary Poppins does it.
But moving on, after my cleaning, at 4 am, I reviewed an article written by Courtney Carver called “25 Reasons You Might be a Minimalist”
You guys should read the article, or not—do what your heart feels, but I am going to pull out a few things off this list. And compare them to my progress:
If a friend asks you to go shopping, and you would rather go to the dentist, you might be a minimalist.
I would rather take shots of bleach and then light myself on fire with the remaining moments left in my life, because I’ll probably die from the bleach, than go to the dentist.
If you don’t have a junk drawer, you might be a minimalist.
I can feel the judgement rolling off of that sentence, and I just want to tell you that you should keep that to a minimum.
If you are curious about living with less than 100 things, you might be a minimalist.
My makeup and books make up 100 items alone and again, I would rather send my little sister to the Hunger Games than give up any of those possessions (but let’s be serious, she’d probably win anyways so I don’t feel bad for saying that.)
If clutter makes you crazy, you might be a minimalist.
My family makes me crazy, does getting rid of them count? … I feel like the appropriate thing to do is follow this with just kidding, but …
If you schedule time for nothing, you might be a minimalist.
What do you guys do to support your lives? Seriously. Tell me.
If there are less than 33 things in your closet, you might be a minimalist.
That’s the amount of black pieces of clothing I own, and I wear all of them. So is that 33 things altogether? Or like, ….
Basically, in this short-lived journey, I learned something about myself: probably never going to be a minimalist. And the crunchy granola vibes that I carry really get what people are trying to accomplish with this. Stress free living and more money in the bank– sign me up. But like most things in my life I am sure that this is just a phase. I mean three days ago I was looking for jobs on the Cirque du Soleil website and I can’t even do a cart wheel. In the future I am sure there will be other phases as well and you will all have the opportunity to hear all about them.
I am going to kill that bet, though.
Hunnits, hunnits, hunnits.