A wise writing instructor of mine once taught about the art of brevity in communication. The idea is that words are more powerful from a source when those words are carefully chosen, purposefully used, and - most important - not wasted.
I'm not very good at practicing the art of brevity. Especially when I'm in an argument. Using more words than needed leads to a product that can be confusing, misleading, exaggerated, insincere, boastful, and meaningless.
Writing this now, I'm guilty of using more than is needed. Regardless, I continue to ignore the backspace button. This problem - that is, the implied problem of excess and its consequences - transcends every facet of human life. Eating, sleeping, working. Surely those are obvious areas where conquering excess has ascended past the grasp of trend and is now resting firmly on the top shelf of self-help. The shelf where only the book covers of hardbacks glisten in retail lighting.
But my mission, my home's mission, is materialistic minimalism. That product is difficult to achieve without a plan. There are books, websites, magazines, classes, martial arts, survival gurus - that all want to tell you how to achieve a life free of distraction. The idea is that the fewer things there are around you, the more powerful and meaningful the things that you keep, or better yet, need, become. How about this: the fewer things you have, the easier it is to know who you are.
For me, the catalyst for change was and is organization. Organizing things is its own art, with its own complex nature, and its own need for micro planning. There are books, websites, blogs... dedicated to showing you how to organize.
It becomes too much. What you don't need is a how to. What you do need is a sincere need for change, and then action. What we all need is to share stories of action, not so we can develop some sort of universal methodology for, say, how to properly organize a closet; instead, so we can learn what works for someone else and see if it fits into what we are doing. Closets are like fingerprints. No one has the exact same setup, items, clothes, shoes, ties - whatever is in your closet is unique. Why buy a book?
A friend of mine is taking the minimalism lifestyle thing seriously, and its fascinating to see him attack all aspects of his life in search of more intimacy, identification, freedom. Freedom.
Our possessions possess us. They define us. Some of them actually own us, if we are in debt. How great it will be to be free of that lifestyle.
My story is unique, as is my friend's. And he's got a blog dedicated to revealing his goals and actions, along with some excellent insight and commentary that goes beyond the norm. Check Greg Hart's The Pare Down, for his way of achieving minimalism.
As for me, I'll be posting here. Especially now that I have time, which is a product of minimalist achievements as of late, however minor they currently are.
My goal in doing this is to offer tips, explain my processes, and reveal my never ending supply of mistakes.
a blog featuring writing and photography by Jared Chesson.
