Читать книгу The Joy of Minimalism - Zoey Arielle Poulsen - Страница 6

INTRODUCTION

An Honest Introduction

I want to start off this book by saying thank you. Thank you for picking it up and giving it an honest chance. Perhaps you found me on YouTube and have been following me for a while, or this book somehow caught your eye at a bookstore, and for that I thank you. Everything happens for a reason, and I truly believe that if you are open to it, this book will change your life in a positive way (or hopefully in many ways)!

At this time, the videos I post on YouTube about minimalism are the most popular on my channel. As a video gains momentum on YouTube, it is bound to be seen by an audience that is not necessarily your target, or in other words, not your “tribe.” My ideal audience/tribe is made up of positive self-improvement junkies, because hey, that’s me. YouTube trolls (or “haters”) can throw a lot of shade, but I hope that sharing my minimalism journey will help you do at least one of the following: diminish anxiety, make money, save money, declutter your home, declutter your mind, and most importantly, allow you to have more of life’s most precious resource: time—time to spend with family and friends, or to finally pursue the business endeavor you have always had on the back burner in your mind.

I struggled for weeks and even months with trying to put together how I wanted to communicate my minimalism tips and journey in book form because of the backlash I have received on YouTube. Unfortunately, there will always be someone in the world who will disagree with you, but fortunately, the journey of minimalism and of life is all your own. As long as you are happy and fully content with the choices you are making on a daily basis, you are living an authentic life. I hope this book will expand your views and allow you to adjust or change your lens on how you view material items and your precious time and how you feel about them. By learning to let go and limit what you obtain, you will be able to gain more than ever imagined. I refer to this positive life gain as fulfillment.

To me, minimalism and this book are about the concept of simplification in different areas of your life, such as your wardrobe or your home—making room for what matters most to you specifically. Minimizing my life has allowed happiness to come more easily on a daily basis, and I know that if you open your mind while closing the lid on your spending habits, it will do the same for you.

Let’s get started!

What is Minimalism?

A journey.

Minimalism is not living out of a suitcase, only owning a certain number of items, living in a tiny house, or only owning white furniture. Minimalism can certainly be these things, but is not limited to them. The journey of minimalism is about becoming conscious of the world around you, simplifying your life, and actively choosing to incorporate only the things in your life which bring you joy. Thus, this journey is unique to everyone.

We are all different human beings and will always be different human beings. You may LOVE cilantro so much that you would plant a lawn of it in your front yard just so you could smell it every day, whereas your best friend may despise cilantro so much that if a stem found its way into her taco, the whole restaurant would know about it.

You may love golden retrievers, yet your aunt may refuse to even pet dogs, though she owns twenty cats.

Your younger brother may love video games, but you may strongly feel your eyes would burn out attempting to play with him for even fifteen minutes.

We are all different.

And that is okay.

Our differences and uniqueness make the world go ‘round. How boring would life be if we all enjoyed the same things, partook in the same activities, and ate the same food?

For your hypothetical friend’s sake, let’s hope that this kind of world would say “no” to cilantro.

Minimalism is about reclaiming your time in life to do more of the things which add irreplaceable value to you personally, such as spending more time with your family or focusing more on your health. Once you discover the true value of time and the joy it can bring you, you will realize life is better lived enjoying every day through moments, rather than trying to find enjoyment through things.

Becoming a Minimalist: My Journey

Perhaps I was born a minimalist—I mean, I did arrive on this earth as a naked screaming bundle of joy. I didn’t feel the automatic need to go out and clothe myself in designer goods, purchase something to feel endorphins, or own the latest iPhone to prove I was successful in life—I simply wanted to be held. I think that is the case for each and every one of us.

Society, our upbringing, and the media are what sway us to accumulate “stuff” to become happier. The average person is exposed to hundreds of advertisements every single day. Having had a career in marketing, I can say hands down that the goal of marketing is to persuade you to purchase something, regardless of whether it is ethical or not. Thus, the hundreds of advertisements we are exposed to per day are often successful in communicating that we will be happier by purchasing more. Somehow, we expect that by filling our makeup bags, closets, and homes with things, happiness will burst through the door like the Kool-Aid jug character, screaming “OH YEAAAH!” This, however, is not reality.

Brands succeed in selling to us by taking the time to research what our society is interested in and what sparks people’s excitement or attention. In turn, we as consumers spend hours and hours researching products and reading product reviews, and we have no problem spending a full day walking around the mall. We swipe our credit cards and check our bank account balances, yet how many of us take the time to explore whether we are actually balanced and happy?

Here’s a brief introduction to how I got sucked into the bubble of materialism, floated around in it for the majority of my life, and then popped it—only to realize how little it actually took to become fulfilled in life.

While I was growing up, I was pushed by my parents to spend the majority of my time outdoors: bike riding, playing road hockey, or building forts with my brothers. My fondest memories are of camping on Vancouver Island and running around the backyard with my cousins; we truly didn’t need much more than our imaginations to have a good time. I was always taught to enjoy simplicity, respect the outdoors, and work for what I wanted. I was never one of those children who asked for a new possession and expected it to be given without any effort. Thank you, Dad.

In elementary school, I began to become aware of the “outside world”, and with that came influencers: friends, the media, The Spice Girls, etc. Those were exciting times for sure —discovering new worlds that were so very different from my own. I often daydreamed about what it would be like to wear sparkling outfits and platform shoes. I also felt a little envy growing up with the belief that I might never be able to obtain some of the possessions I dreamt about, because my parents would never buy them for me and/or I would not be able to afford them myself.

However, things changed when I landed my first “real job” working as a courtesy clerk (yes, a bagging-and-buggy girl) at a local grocery store. Having my own paycheck meant the money I made was mine to spend.

I would wait patiently for my biweekly paychecks, already planning out where every dollar and cent was going to go the moment it was deposited. I’d spend my money on clothes, DVDs, food—basically, anything I wanted—and I felt a thrill with every purchase because I was in control of it; I had newfound freedom.

I spent my free time on day trips to the mall with my friends. I always enjoyed seeing how many things I could purchase with my latest paycheck. If I saw shirts on sale at a good price, such as two shirts for ten dollars, you bet I had to jump on that deal. The phrase “the more you buy, the more you save” was a little too familiar to me.

Of course, once high school came, materialism hit a new level when name-brand clothing became a “must” to fit in and when I finally got my driver’s license. The pressure was on as a teenager—somehow it felt necessary to prove my wealth as a person by displaying it any way that I could.

Next came the university, where I had to make new friends —what better way to make new friends than having nice, new clothing? Along with copious amounts of clothing came furnishing a flat, buying a new car, and a bunch of other junk I can’t even remember now.

When I was twenty years old, in the summer before my final year at University, I went backpacking through Europe by myself. The experience was nothing less than transformative; and it completely blows my mind now, as I can’t imagine how I managed the adventure alone with paper maps and without a cellphone (first world problems, I know).

During this adventure of mine, I was able to find myself to an extent I never had before. Apparently, the real Zoey was hidden somewhere underneath an excess of clothes and possessions, and all she needed to be discovered was a backpack and a map of Europe. During this time abroad, I pulled back the layers of materialism in my life and was able to explore pure authenticity.

Had I been aloof my whole life?

Stepping foot onto the Copenhagen-bound plane in Vancouver meant that the journey ahead of me was my time to explore the world and myself on my own. While I was away from my life in Canada, I realized what made me feel alive and fulfilled. To my surprise, it wasn’t my new car, it wasn’t my boyfriend, it wasn’t shopping; it was adventure.

Throughout my travels, I didn’t feel a need to shop my way through Europe—I simply wanted to spend the money I had on special and memorable experiences. (Who was this girl?) Once I started to taste the freedom of real-life adventure, I yearned for cultural moments and significant conversations. I was observing, discovering, and transforming. Spending time with my family in Denmark also introduced me to the Scandinavian aesthetic: clean, airy, and simple—I noticed the benefits to my mind immediately. Stepping into a minimalist home instantly felt stress-free, breathable, and open. These spaces were like nothing I had ever seen before in North America. I remember scribbling notes into the back of my journal like, “What I want my future house to look like: white, with nothing but a little bit of simple luxury inside.” It’s true what everyone says about Hygge in Denmark, it is the coziest feeling.

While I was away, I forgot about the things that I owned that weren’t in the contents of my nylon backpack; when I returned to Canada, I felt overwhelmed by my belongings. I had countless clothes that I had forgotten I had, some still with tags, jewelry I kept for what I thought were sentimental reasons, and more than enough furniture for my means. Truthfully, I had no real relationship with any of my possessions—I had forgotten about them all. I realized that, over the span of my life, I had accumulated too many belongings—more than I could manage, clean, or take care of.

I felt like a hoarder, even though I was not even close to some of the people I had seen on the reality TV shows about hoarding. I felt overwhelmed because I realized I had consumed so many things that weren’t necessarily providing benefit to me, or even enjoyment. While on my journey, I had seen people who had so much less than I did, yet who were extremely content with their lives. These countless observations gave rise to the large and unignorable question of “why?”

Despite this, when I had settled back in at home and felt spontaneous enough to get rid of all my belongings, I somehow suppressed my intuition and fell back into my old patterns. My cycle included going into hibernation mode while burying myself in studies and work, then transitioning away and racing like a mad woman to buy anything I could get my hands on that would give me a pick-me-up.

Shopping was like my espresso after a rough night’s sleep, only I felt like I was sleeping my way through life and like I needed a lot more than an espresso to cure it. Shopping for clothing, makeup, or other products was addictive to me like a drug, especially during stressful times at university (when as a student I really did not have the funds for such a lifestyle). The new purchases lost their sparkle after a few rounds, and then, like a junkie, I’d find myself at the mall again or filling my online shopping cart. I was, and I felt, out of control.

Although my habits were a little ridiculous, there was one major aspect of my Euro trip mental shift which did stick with me through the remainder of my studies, and that was quality over quantity. I realized in the past I had been drawn to sale items that I didn’t necessarily love, but would purchase because I felt a deal was too good to pass up, even if the clothing tended to fall apart after only a couple of washes. Those were the items which hung in my closet, tags still on. I made the decision moving forward that from then on in my life, I would only acquire good quality pieces.

The next chapter of my life was moving to the big city of Toronto. The new city, the new way of life, and the corporate climbing around me made me feel I needed to obtain a new level of business clothes. Swipe here, swipe there—the plastic was getting hot as I went for quality over quantity, yet I still felt I needed to obtain a lot of it: What would people think if I wore the same blazer twice in one week?

The truth was and is: it does not matter.

Whether or not a new style was expensive, somehow I felt I needed to obtain it for my collection to feel good and successful, when really, I was just contributing to financial stress in my life. The more I thought consciously about my shopping habits, the more I found going to the mall tiresome. The further I got into the marketing world, the clearer the illusions became, and I began to feel overwhelmed by all the marketing going on around me. I also realized the only time I seemed to want to go to the mall was when I had had a mediocre day at work, because a new lipstick or new shirt was sure to fix my day and my unfulfilling corporate position, wasn’t it? Unfortunately, mediocre days at work occurred all too often.

From the discomfort of my desk, I yearned for adventure every day. I wanted to hop on a plane back to Europe and indulge in the beauty of culture: art, food, language, etc. Although these thoughts were on my mind daily, I didn’t quite make the connection that that was how I would personally achieve lasting, fulfilling happiness.

Europe felt more and more out of my reach as I continued to suffocate myself in my limiting beliefs: “You can’t move there, it’s impossible”; or “You have built too much of a life here to leave it”; or “Who are you to quit your job?”

I yearned to rediscover my lust for life, shed my limiting beliefs about my potential for happiness, and buy that plane ticket.

It was in my darkest voids that I realized it was my baggage that was literally weighing me down, baggage in the sense of having a fully furnished apartment, student loans, and a whole lot of things—or for lack of a better word, “junk.”

Minimalism was then and still is an inward journey, a journey that was necessary for me to discover myself and what sparks joy within my soul. The journey has inspired and still inspires me to take my life to the next level every day. It gave me the ability to rekindle my lust for life and allowed me to follow my adventurous dreams.

“Rock bottom was the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.”

— J.K. Rowling

By no means does one have to hit rock bottom to bring themselves to discover minimalism and the joy the journey brings, but one does have to do the internal work. This “work” refers to the daily exercises we all know we should do, but can’t seem to fit it into our schedules: journaling, meditation, fitness, etc. If journaling takes only five minutes per day or meditation takes ten, why do we find this so difficult?

If you want a radical change in your life, you need to do the work required to take that internal journey.

Perhaps it is so easy for us to swipe our credit cards for a possession because someone else created it, and we did not have to put any of our own time into the idea or manufacturing process. We so willingly and easily incorporate material possessions into our existence, but find it so difficult to identify within our own souls what sparks joy within. When you think about this from an outside perspective, it doesn’t make any sense, because investing in the creation of the future we most desire deserves our undivided attention. Who doesn’t desire a life without financial stressors, clutter, or excess baggage? The inward journey is needed in order to recognize this and make it happen.

When I finally recognized my low point for what it was, I was able to identify what I had been trying to mask with possessions and clutter all along: I wanted to be in Rome, Italy.