Minimalism

The other day I watched a Documentary about Minimalism. It told the story of two men who de-cluttered their lives by living with the bare minimum. They had decided to do so after accumulating every material thing you can imagine and found that they were not happy and their lives felt meaningless.

It reminded me of a seminar I offered a couple of years ago when I was still working as a coach and trainer in Switzerland. The three-day workshop was entitled, Soul Therapy Through De-cluttering. On the first day of the seminar, we looked at all the stuff we had hoarded at home. This included clothes and shoes we no longer wore, books we’d already read and known we’d never read again, knick—knacks and souvenirs on our shelves brought home from trips we’d taken, kitchen items we bought on the spur of an enthusiastic moment thinking that like a chef in a five-star restaurant, we too, would make food with fancy decorations.

After clearing the upstairs, we would then go through our basement clutter to see what items were still there from the predecessor of the house or from our early childhood or from our long since grown-up kids. Many found rusty bicycles, broken garden tools, and dried-out paint.  Then, to the attic where we’d find more stuff we didn’t even know we still had, i.e. old records and a broken record player, an outdated version of an encyclopedia, a doll, which was eaten up by moths and even an old set of china kept as a memory of our grandmother who died eight years ago. Even those who had only been in their new home for a year or two and were moving once again, found things still in boxes in their garage that they had to admit, they really didn’t want to bring to their new place.

I gave the students in my seminar one month to unclutter their home. At least they had to get started.

It was fun to hear their feedback when we met four weeks later for our second part of the seminar. Carla said, “Wow, I didn’t know I had so much stuff. It was overwhelming,” she admitted. “After one day, I had to stop, but at least I got as far as cleaning out all my kitchen cabinets. My husband was so happy that he took me out for dinner in celebration, “ she happily exclaimed.

“And I started in the basement, “ Robert stated proudly. “I finally fixed my daughter’s bike. She’d been asking me to fix it for weeks. What relief it was to get it off my mind,” he added.

“At last, I cleared out my bookshelf in the hallway. I’ve wanted to get rid of that piece of furniture for a long time. Each time I passed by it, I hurt my leg or arm, but I could not bring myself to give it away. I wonder why?” David asked himself. After looking deeper into David’s situation, we found out that the bookshelf belonged to his former girlfriend. The relationship with her was not resolved at all at that point. Only after he had made peace with the situation, he could give the bookshelf to the secondhand store.

Other attendees in my seminar had similar stories to tell. Some also needed clarification about why they were hanging on to certain items. It was interesting to see how material objects are bound up with people from our past, both situations, and emotions. After doing some inner work and getting insight into the reasons why they were so attached to a certain object, the students then would be able to release it.

After all the feedback and discussion about this previous first seminar day four weeks ago, we would eventually continue with the topic of our second meeting. This was looking at our body and see what we were hoarding in our extra kilos or pounds. Looking closer at our eating habits and our diets, we realized that food is an extremely emotional matter as well and is connected to our feelings and even behaviors. I let the participants observe themselves for a month before we would meet again on our last day together.

On this third day, we looked at our minds. What thoughts might be worth releasing? What belief systems would encourage us to hold on to unhealthy habits and prevent us from stepping forward? And what about uncluttering our relationships with friends and even family members? This seemed to be quite a challenge.

“I have this club I’ve gone to for years. How can I stop going all of a sudden? I would have to give a good reason,” Liz said looking at me incredulously.

Patty replied, “Yes, maybe I could do that, but I have to go to our yearly Easter Egg Hunt that I hate so much. I think my mother-in-law wouldn’t speak to me anymore if I refused to go.”

Claire was next saying, “I keep inviting my husband’s friends for dinner every month, but actually I am just their waitress. It is so much work for me, and I don’t really want to do it any longer.”

Others joined in sharing the things they kept doing or the people they kept meeting out of habit. All of the students left the seminar with a lot of motivation to change their lives, lighten their load and start doing only what was fun and to quit doing things they’d outgrown. Weeks and even months later I got feedback from some, saying,

“My life has become joyful again.” Or, “Once I decided to stop going to the club, it was such a relief and the others didn’t mind at all. It was so much easier than I thought it would be.”

Another one stated, “I lost all my old friends. For a while it was not easy, and yet I felt so much lighter as if a burden had been taken off my shoulders. Now, after six months, I have new friends who are more compatible.”

The following feedback was one of my favorites. “Before I never really knew if my friends just loved me because I was rich and they could profit a lot from me or if they truly cared for me as a person. Now that I have gotten rid of all that material stuff the false friends have vanished and the few ones who stayed, I know, they are true friends I can trust. My life has become honest and simple – and I am very happy.”

What do the attendees of my seminar and the people who followed the men in the documentary about minimalism have in common? First of all, they gained the insight that often less means more. Less stuff, less stress, less discontent, even less debt means more time, more meaningful relationships, more growth and contribution to an intentional life. This is demonstrated by a simple but rich life, not necessary with wealth but with values that matter. The realization that what counts is not what I have, but who I am.

I close with a quote by HH Dalai Lama:

“People were created to be loved. Things were created to be used. The reason why the world is in chaos is because things are being loved and people are being used.”