Minimal living provides maximum joy
Letting go of the clutter and consumption is a healthy choice
I have a principle which keeps me somewhat grounded. I live as a minimalist. What is that you ask? Well, the term popped up in my feed as I was watching some self-improvement videos on YouTube. I did a Google search and found the definition of minimalist actually fits me. So let me give you an idea of how I live.
First, I don’t own anything for which I have to make monthly payments to any individual, bank or corporate entity. I don’t have a house, new car nor a boat.
I have two horses for which I pay monthly but I don’t really feel like I OWN them, per se. They have no registration papers and quite frankly, it is impossible to own a living being. Especially if it can kick you and put your lights out.
I do have a rent payment. But I love giving that small sum to a widow who is elderly but still full of life and energy. And if you saw the space where I write and live you would say it is worth it.
Owning less and living more is a key theme among minimalists. I feel like I own the world around me when I leave my small intimate space and do a 30K jaunt on my gravel bike along the Atlantic Coast. When I get in my 4X4 and camp in the desert, I live and own all the beauty that I can still see. Instead of ownership, I use my resources to live for experiences and memories.
Another sign that I am a minimalist is that I have an aversion to buying brand new items in malls or box stores. Don’t get me wrong, I still buy new items but I like old things. Older products tend to be made of better material and are designed to stand the test of time. Back in the US, I would frequent flea markets and thrift stores. Whereas here in Morocco, I go to the Souq, which in Arabic means ‘the marketplace.’ It is an amazing experience if you like rummaging as I do. My latest fun acquisition is a double strip of actual woven Kente cloth from Ghana which I found for 5 dirham or 50 cents. Wearing it around my neck will hopefully turn me into an African scholar. Little unique things have value and finding them brings me great pleasure.
There is something rewarding about transacting money with a heartbeat on the other end. At the Souq, your money is going into their hands of a person who will likely buy food to feed their family. This is a blessing in itself. Using a plastic debit card does not give you a feeling of real exchange. Why give your money to these big megastores with poorly-made Chinese products when you can provide a direct benefit to another soul?
I encounter many European travelers in Morocco who ask if they should bargain for items they want in the Souq. I tell them it is okay to ask to pay less but it is better to simply give a fair price that will make you feel good.
Protocols are good habits
When I enter a supermarket, I find nothing to buy. I shun mass produced and packaged “food.” Anything that has a shelf life of two years, or two months for that matter, is already dead and cannot bring life to one’s body. Supermarkets are full of fillers, not food. Also, I never buy or use in my house anything white; sugar, salt, flour, rice. You get the idea. My minimalist ways have brought me to make my own deodorant, toothpaste and luckily I shave my head so I don’t need shampoo. I don’t consume paper products, yes, including toilet paper. Hmmm. I know, wierd. But at least supply chain problems won’t stop me from taking a dump.
I have set up protocols so I don’t lose shit. Yes, it is all shit but some shit you need to get through the day; like keys, cash, debit cards, hand cream, knife, cell phone. I carry these items and my passport in a fanny pack which I wear most everywhere. I have developed a system when using my debit card, stashing money, etc. and even where I hang my fanny pack when I arrive home.
Despite my protocols, I lost my cell phone in December while riding a stallion in Azrou, Morocco. Instead of putting my phone temporarily in my fanny pack, I left it in my jacket pocket with a velcro cover. Then I raced that horse in a fast gallop and returned to the barn to find the velcro did not hold the phone in place. I retraced my tracks twice but did not find my phone. Not securing my phone cost me dearly. I lost access to my trading accounts, flashlight, clock, etc. I tried living without a phone for 30 days. My idea was to get a tablet and never use a cell phone again. A crazy idea. It is amazing how addicted we are to having a cell phone. I call it our sixth appendage. I gave up and bought a cheap Samsung phone but I will eventually switch to an Iphone which I find most efficient.
Clutterless is betterness
I don’t live a bleak existence. I have things. I would like to have more. But where do you put it all. People have houses full of stuff and then rent a storage bin to keep more stuff. Clearly most of us struggle with letting go of stuff to the point that stuff begins to own us.
There comes a time when you have to start purging all the stuff that clutters your life and attaches to your energy. What and who are carrying into your future? Can you afford financially, emotionally to hold on the stuff. Likely not.
I carried furniture and pictures and stuff from my family house in Bloomingburg to Newburgh, NY. There were things from my childhood that I could not let go.
In Newburgh, I had an older friend named Ali who was in hospital and didn’t have a place to go after his discharge. I brought him into my home and it was peaceable. Until he left an oil bottle on my mother’s cedar chest which contained her wedding dress and so many nostalgic items. The oil ate a huge ring into the wood. I flipped out. That was my mom’s. Don’t you know not to put wet bottles on wood?
A few weeks later he left to stay with his estranged wife. I didn’t want him to go because he was still sick.
A few months later, I heard he died sleeping on a floor in his wife’s daughter’s house. I helped carry his body to the Muslim cemetary in Cornwall. A day or so after the burial I looked at the mark that Ali left and felt so small. Stuff is reparable but Ali was not. I said to myself. Let it go. Let it all go. And I vowed to stop carrying remnants of my glorious past with me. I can simply enjoy the memories and choose to be present and forward thinking.
btw… I emptied that cedar chest and gave my mom’s wedding dress to a deserving woman. But the cedar chest is now crushed and sitting in a dump somewhere. Nothing lasts.
The modern nomad
The nomadic Touareg people from the Sahara have a proverb which says, “Houses are the tombs of the living.” This is their reasoning for always being on the move and never settled. They spend time tending to their livestock, hunting, and building their tents again and again.
Minimalist have that nomadic spirit which underlies their actions. It is with this energy that I have embarked on being a digital nomad. I now research and produce written content everyday now even if I don’t publish it. I plan to travel on an adventure in May to a place where I will learn more from the Touareg tribe. My adventures and stories I will share here on this platform.
Thank you for being a part of my life and audience.
We can all get behind a life with less consumption and more Joy. Nice message this time of rebirth