Looking for a Simpler Life
I haven't written much about creativity yet, aside from my posts about publishing and whether typing vs. handwriting poetry makes a difference in output. I started reading a book about creativity and faith by Madeline L'Engle, but I abandoned it once I stumbled across a new project:
Minimalism.
I started researching minimalism over the summer, listening to podcasts, reading website articles, and devouring books written on the topic. After reading and listening and learning, I decided to go with Joshua Becker's philosophy (paraphrased): minimalism is promoting the things I value in life - faith, family, creativity, and health among others - and eliminating everything that distracts from them.
In order to be a minimalist, I don’t have to blather about how I own only five forks, how I wear only black clothes, and how I don't have any blankets or throw pillows because minimalism means black leather and chrome furniture, don't'cha know. I just need to get rid of the "stuff", however I define it, that keeps me from living a calm and simple life.
So I decided to become a minimalist according to my definition. And though I'm still working on defining it, it does not include 40+ Pop Vinyl figures, or 30 t-shirts, or holiday decorations I set out for maybe one month a year.
With each trip to drop off donations, I feel a heaviness lift. I don't have to be weighed down by possessions that add no value to my life. I'm not saying everything is valueless; I'm not going to throw out my journals. I need cooking utensils. But the things that don't give me joy? I can happily donate them to others in need.
I didn't realize how minimalism could help me live with bipolar disorder. Have you ever felt like you're stressed to the breaking point, and the only solution is to either burn everything to the ground or throw everything in a dumpster and start fresh? That has described me many times over the years, and I decided I don't have accept this.
My solution: minimalism. Am I overwhelmed by all the house cleaning and dusting and visual clutter? Minimalism. Am I overwhelmed by my schedule and how many things I've committed to out of anything other than a sincere desire to participate? Minimalism. Am I overwhelmed by my closet and clothing choices and hate everything I own? Minimalism. Am I overwhelmed and anxious every time I enter my home for any reason? Minimalism. My brain has space to live and breathe, and I have fewer triggers that can lead to a bipolar meltdown.
It's a slow process. If you walked inside my house, you would see we're very much in progress. I almost feel like I should define myself as an "aspiring minimalist", but waiting until I donate x percent of my belongings before I adopt the title doesn't sit well with me. Have you heard the phrase "name it and claim it"? Dodgy religious overtones aside, I'm going to claim I'm a minimalist and work toward my definition.
Does this mean I write a minimalist blog now? No. I'll continue to write about mental illness, creativity, writing, and how they manifest in my life. Maybe that will include a future post about my minimalist progress, but I don't plan to make it a central topic. I'm not going to preach at and bait-and-switch you, I promise.
Regardless of where or if you fall on the minimalist continuum, I send hope for a less-cluttered life. For me, it's been a sigh of relief. Maybe it can be the same for you.