I don't want to be a minimalist.
*sigh. there it is.
i have conversations and longings for the simplicity. but I just. can't. do it.
mind you, most of what I own could fit into 2 rooms, but that's mostly due to current space constraints and my habit of abandoning belongings when i move and starting from scratch. while my inner environmentalist, and sociologist, and other 'ists' are entirely aware, and in support of the reasons for minimalism, I just can't get there.
I know why minimalism makes sense. I know as a society we consume FAR too much. we are unfulfilled by the consumption of short lived goods. we seek the newest things, the newest technology, and we often fill the spaces in our lives with things. and, I DO believe in experiences versus things which is why I don't yet own a house, only own a car because I was basically required by work, and still wear some clothes that I wore in high school.
and yet - ultimately - I can't do it. I can't pare down my wardrobe. I can't purge my art collection, or my art supplies. I can't - and more importantly - I JUST DON'T WANT TO.
because - gasp - I love stuff.
i like art - SO much art. I like my friend's children's drawings. I like my friend's beautiful art everywhere - photography, cartoons, marble art and paintings. I like art that I've picked up on travels, and art that I've made myself - particularly reflective of the tough, challenging or growing times in my life.
i like clothes. not expensive clothes, relatively speaking. and not a walk-in-closet worth of clothes. But more than the 50 items called out by many wardrobe minimalists. I like weird prints and denim. I like hilariously provocative shirts, and shorts that are knee length. I like kid's tshirts (with bugs and dinosaurs), and tshirts i've bought to remind me of attending sporting events, and pencil skirts. I looooove pencil skirts.
i like plants. I like dozens and dozens and dozens of plants. I like eccentric pots for them, and I like re-potting them when they're looking cramped. I like trimming my current plants to create more plants. and, I like singing to my dozens of plants - and telling them nice things, and wiping and cleaning their leaves, and moving them around so they are in the perfect place for them. I probably love my plants more than I love myself.
i like books. not eBooks. real books. used and new books. fiction and self help. vintage classics and new comedian biographies. graphic novels and intensely gutting 'state of the world' doomsday manifestos. hundreds of them. all over the place.
and I attach sentimental meaning to things. all of them. a four leaf clover that's been framed for 3 years because a colleague gave it to me in a goodbye card when I moved back home from Vancouver. handmade doilies from a monastery in France. a bright blue beer bottle from iceburg beer in Newfoundland. Pottery from Iceland. And Newfoundland. And Thunder Bay (and beyond). rocks from everywhere. all things that as pieces of matter mean (and really, are worth) very little. but all have extensive stories associated with them. that make me smile when I look at them.
first rule of minimalism? no sentimental value. and that? I just can't do.
i love the idea of minimalism. a small home that's clear of all things, and a life cleared of all stress. I love the idea of a clean and concise wardrobe - high quality basics that I can rotate and mix and match like crazy. I love the idea of a constantly clean home with no clutter, and no extras.
But. I also need to confront a reality about myself. I love the idea of those things - but do I love the idea of them because of how it looks to the world, or so I love the idea because of how it makes me feel?
the thoughts that cycle - most significantly, recently as I sort through all the rooms in my head that help me figure out who I am - are that I have spent a lifetime as someone who goes against the grain, and leads a life that's very different. but, when it comes down to it, what I want - be it from societal imprinting or true wants and needs or a good hearty combination of both - is a pretty average life. i don't want a one room home. I want a home with rooms for creating, and rooms for comforting, and rooms for niece and nephew sleepovers and guests and entertaining and working. I want rooms to house cosy comfy furniture, and homemade quilts, and to showcase art, and to adorn with throw pillows (oh how I LOVE throw pillows).
I don't want a 50 piece wardrobe. I want weird shirts with bugs and dinosaurs on them because they make me laugh and laughter brings joy to my life. I want multiple pairs of gold shoes and I want lots of denim and i want pencil skirts to wear with my gold shoes and dinosaur t-shirts. I want to shop at consignment stores and buy jeans that I can cut off into a slightly different pair of distressed denim because the idea of creating something that I want is wonderful.
I don't want bare walls and an eReader for all my literature. I want walls with a constant rotation of art and I want cards and notes from the little ones in my life, everywhere. I want books galore, so friends can peruse and take what they'd like to read. I want art that provokes people, and I want to answer guests when they ask, by telling them about my insanely talented friends. I want books that people ask me about so I can share what I've learned and thought and loved and questioned.
and gosh - I want ALL OF THE PLANTS.
what I want, is to finally understand what my heart wants. and instead of observing alternative culture, and hopping on board, I want a life of critically reviewing ideas and movements, and selecting what works for me, and what doesn't. choosing yes in the local food column, but also yes in the slightly overstuffed closet column. yes in the reclaimed building material column, and also yes in the hanging the 'I love you note' from my niece in a spray painted IKEA frame that I picked up at value village column. and a solid giant 'YES' to not beating myself up about any of those things.
ultimately, I realized it was about being conscious. once I decide what i want, it will come together. the way it's meant to, and they way that will feel good. I can (and I do! oh how I do) intensely admire those who choose and can love a minimalist life - my sister who has her wardrobe down to a mere 34 pieces. my friend who seeks a small 2 or 3 room home in the woods. friends who have inspired me constantly to rethink my buying and consumption habits because of the lives they lead. and I will continue to grow and learn and I'm sure at some point have a perfectly curated and rotating piece of art that I call my life/home. and I will be content and wonderfully happy because I'll have all of the plants and all of the gold shoes and I won't have rejected a piece of friend created artistry simply because my academia tells me I'm wrong for loving and wanting it surrounding me.
and when that time comes, you're all invited for a dinosaur tshirt slumber party. heck. you can come for a dinosaur t-shirt slumber party now - who are we kidding.
