Minimalism As Practice, Not Project

I’m not exactly a “minimalist blogger” a la Leo Babutua or Tammy Strobel or Everett Bogue, but I would say I’m…sort of neighbor down the block. I don’t think of myself as part of the minimalist movement, but I share lots of readers with these folks, and I certainly care about simplicity and focusing on what really matters. And I really could stand up and applaud the movement for providing a counterpoint to our culture’s “more, more, more” attitude, especially when it comes to consumerism.
 
Lately, there’s been a lot of debate about what minimalism really is, and if the movement is over or on the rise. I wanted to share some things I’ve been simmering on for a while, about why I think the real power of minimalism has been lost, because of the way it’s been interpreted and adopted.
 
Emptiness is powerful. Sitting in the quiet, in white space, is our entry point to our real selves and to life itself. It’s in empty, un-distracted time with our loved ones that we really see them and experience connection . It’s in empty time with ourselves that we become conscious of our doubts, questions, emotions, passions, dreams — the inner happenings that we need to face. It’s in empty time that creative ideas show up, and that we get a glimpse – some glimpse – of wisdom about what it means to be human.
 
The fundamental intention of minimalism, I believe, is creating that emptiness. As pioneering minimalist blogger Leo Babutua wrote, “When you clear away the non-essentials, the essentials have room to breathe, to live. We forget that often, so minimalism is simply a way to remind us. It also becomes such a beautiful way of living … an expression of the best of us.”
 
As with most spiritual practices, human beings forget the core inner work that is at the heart of them, and get all caught up with the mechanics, with the religious artifacts. We get focused on putting up the Christmas tree instead of extending the love that Jesus embodied. We get focused on lighting the Sabbath candles at the right time instead of actually connecting to the restful spirit of Sabbath. We worry about doing the yoga pose “right” instead of on connecting to our breath. We get focused on reducing possessions to x number and having a short to do list, instead actually creating emptiness, true white space, in our lives – so that in that white space we can be present to ourselves and to life.
 
We don’t need to throw out the Christmas tree, or the Sabbath candle ritual, or the project of paring down possessions to a particular number. But we do need to remember that these are just reminders, pointers, toward an inner shift. It’s the inner shift that matters.
 
The part of us that loves the comfort zone will always resist inner transformation. That’s why we fixate on the tree or the candles or the 100 possessions – in so doing, we avoid the real work.
 
When it comes to minimalism, this resistance to truly being with emptiness gets expressed by doing minimalism as a big project. When we do minimalism as a project, it goes something like this: You read a bunch of stuff about minimalism. You evaluate and consider becoming minimalist. You decide to do it. You spend time buying index cards to write your three daily priorities on and setting up systems for your new, simplified calendaring. You do lots of research on going car-free. You spend hours upon hours getting rid of stuff. You connect with other minimalists online.
 
Minimalism becomes, paradoxically, a complex undertaking. You spend time creating a minimalist future, instead of finding simplicity in the present moment. The part of us that is forever running away from the present and chasing a fantasy about the future? That part is content. You aren’t really challenging your addiction to busyness, to projects, to stuff. Now you are just busy, protected by, distracted by, minimalist stuff.
 

Minimalism As A Practice

What I want to offer, in contrast to “minimalism as project,” is the idea of “minimalism as a practice.” While a project is something big, future-oriented and planned in advance, a practice is about habit, repetition, doing. It happens in the now.
 
What if you think about minimalism as a choice you make in each moment? That choice will have diverse expressions – in a moment, it may show up as taking things off the calendar, whittling down priorities, putting things away as you use them, looking for the simplest solution, or giving a 100% of your attention to the person on the other end of the telephone.
 
For me, minimalism is about being willing to eat lunch in silence, and trust that not only will I not die of restlessness, but that good things might come up – in my mind and in my heart. It is meditating for ten minutes in the morning. It’s stopping for two minutes and taking in something beautiful in my surroundings. It’s knowing there is time to be present to each person in front of me, and doing my best to be present. It’s about letting go of stuff regularly, even as I include new stuff – carefully chosen stuff that delights me – in my life. It’s cultivating enough order inside of me that I have a shot at being present, and I do that by writing in a journal, meditating, exercising, and keeping my space serene.
 
It’s up to each of us to really ask ourselves, what allows me real emptiness, real white space, in my life?

Ask Yourself

1. Am I doing minimalism as a practice or a project? How can I shift more into practice mode?
 
2. How I can create more spaciousness and simplicity in my life today, not off in the distant future?
 
3. What else in my life am I doing as a project, when the heart of it lies actually in daily practice? Here are some places you might want to look.

• Being healthy/eating well/getting in shape — Am I holding it as project or daily practice? What would shift if I thought of it as a daily practice?
• Living my values —Am I holding it as project or daily practice? What would shift if I thought of it as a daily practice?
• Being x religion (Christian or Jewish, or Buddhist or whatever religion you associate with) — Am I holding it as project or daily practice? What would shift if I thought of it as a daily practice?
• Raising my children well — Am I approaching it as a project or daily practice? What would shift if I thought of it as a daily practice?
• Writing/making my art/growing my business/succeeding at work — Am I approaching it as a project or daily practice? What would shift if I thought of it as a daily practice?

 
All of these things — raising our children, growing our businesses, getting healthy – happen over time, but they only happen in the moment, one moment at a time.
 
Becoming happens through being. Through choosing, again and again.
 
And here’s the amazing news: practice is always available to us, in this moment. That is one of life’s ever-replenishing, ever-available gifts to us.
 
Love,
 
Tara