How to Progress From Downsizing to Actually Being Minimalist

Be Rid of the Clutter Forever

Downsizing. That’s a relatively new word in our vocabularies, but we all know what it means. Or we think we do. It means different things to different people. But at some point, most people reach a desire to downsize. I know we did. And I don’t think out path was much different than other people.

Over the years, you moved into bigger and bigger houses. The extra room both required and allowed for more stuff. You had to fill rooms you never used full of stuff you never used. Then one day, hopefully, you reach the pinnacle. You become like Granny Clampett in her big Hollywood mansion longing wistfully for that little cabin in the woods.

So you downsize. Downsize is a transitive verb for the English majors out there. I don’t know what the hell is, but I know it’s more complicated than a simple verb like walk or talk. To downsize means spending a lot of time and money buying a smaller house. That’s right; you want less, you need to pay more.

The problem is, you really don’t want that cabin in the woods you left behind decades ago. You want a cabin in the woods with digitally controlled, wi-fi connected, energy-efficient everything. With granite and hardwood. You wish to crystalize all the knowledge you have accumulated from every place you have lived into that last hurrah.

And of course, since the new place is smaller, you have to get rid of most of your stuff. And guess what? Getting rid of stuff costs money. Remember that guy when you were a kid that would haul your old junk away? At some point, somebody discovered they could charge for that — a lot.

And of course, you can’t put that old ratty velvet Barcalounger in your new crib, so you have to buy all new stuff.

And that’s all well and good. You’ve worked your whole life, put away some money, and now it’s time to enjoy the fruits of your labor.

And honestly, downsizing is a good thing. It’s cathartic. It’s energizing. Getting rid of all that stuff you accumulated and fitting what’s left and what’s new into that new smaller home.

But maybe, that’s not enough. If you’ve done it, you know it’s not enough. How do I know this? Because I’ve done it and it’s not enough. Have you downsized and doubt what I am saying. Get up. (After you finish reading this, it’s about to get good. Finally.) Walk into each of your new, smaller, and less cluttered rooms. Now, open the closets.

That’s right. What’s all that crap? I’ll tell you what it is. It’s stuff you couldn’t bring yourself to part with. I really like this thing. That thing brings back a lot of memories. We might need those things someday. But here’s the other thing. When you downsize again, even if it’s the last downsize to a wooden box, that stuff will still be in those closets.

You didn’t like it enough actually to use it. The fact is, you never liked it. You bought it on a whim and told yourself you wanted it. And if you got rid of it, you would have to admit that. You would have to fess up to the fact that it was a complete waste of time and money.

You haven’t needed it since you got it and you don’t need it now. If people really needed a garlic press, they wouldn’t sell crushed garlic in those little glass jars. The fact that you never go underwater should be the first clue that you don’t really need a snorkel.

Memories? Those are in your mind, not in your boxes. Besides, you never take them out and look at them. There’s a whole box of high school yearbooks that have never seen the light of day since your first move.

Jack Reacher, the Lee Child character, had a saying, “Everything you need and nothing you don’t.” The only things he owned were the clothes on his back and a folding toothbrush in his pocket. We won’t be going quite that far.

But, let’s take it a step further than downsizing. Go from downsized to minimalist. If you can, do this before you move, but doing it now will have the same sense of a weight being lifted. You tell yourself that it is all packed away in boxes, shoved into the back of closets. Out of sight, out of mind. But it’s neither. You see them. And once every few months you think, I need to go through that stuff and get rid of it.

You never do.

But here’s the thing. You can get rid of it without going through it. Calm down! You act as if I told you to burn down your house. The stuff in those boxes are things you don’t need, and nobody wants. Your kids don’t want them — you already tried to give them away. You haven’t needed them or looked at them since you moved.

I’ll bet half of it is still the boxes from your previous move.

Get rid of all of it. Take every box, unopened to your favorite charity. Let it end up in someone else’s closet.

Then, go through the rest of your house and get rid of everything else you don’t need, want, or use. Get minimalist.

Even more than downsizing, minimalism will have different meanings to different people. I read a book once, I forget the name, but it was about this spiritual kind of guy that lived on the beach. He slept under a pier. He spent all day, just walking the beach and swimming. The ocean was his kitchen and bathroom.

Don’t do that.

You’ve come to that point in your life where you want comfort and luxury. Don’t get rid of the leather recliner and the 70" TV. But get rid of everything you haven’t used for a while. That time will vary, but everything has a shelf life. If you haven’t worn it in a year, you are never going to wear it again. Any item in your kitchen that hasn’t been used in six months can go. You never pressed garlic in your life; throw it out.

If you are reading this before that last move, pay attention. Spend some more time going through stuff. I know it’s hard. You’re tired and losing steam. It’s easier to pack away those last two dozen crates and let the movers deal with them. Stop. Don’t do that. Get rid of it now. Your future self will thank you.

And speaking of your future self, you young people pay heed. You probably don’t believe it, but you will go through this someday. Why not go through it every day. If you don’t need it, don’t buy it. Sure fashions and hobbies change. That can’t be helped. But you know you’re never going to start an alpaca farm, so don’t buy those books about it.

Get your garlic in a jar like a normal person.

Downsizing is a lot of work, but it can be a lot of fun. Why not take it to the next level and actually go minimalist?