Tag Archive for: minimalist

A Zero Waste Guide to Christmas Gifts

31 Comments/in Less Stuff, Minimalism, Zero Waste/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

I am not a Christmas grinch. I love the idea of families and friends coming together at Christmas, taking time out to share experiences, eating good food and hopefully playing some board games ;)

But presents? Oh, I’m not a fan of Christmas presents at all.

I’m passionate about living a zero waste lifestyle. I aspire to own less, not more. And Christmas presents are, quite frankly, the opposite of that.

It’s not that I dislike presents. A well thought-out gift, that I truly need and love and will actually use, is great. The truth is though, that I already have everything that I need, in terms of stuff. If I did need something, why wait for it to be given to me as a gift, if I can go out and choose it myself? That way, I get to choose the exact one that I want, from the store I want to support. There is less room for error.

If I don’t know that I need it… well then, maybe I don’t need it at all.

I particularly find Christmas present-buying so… transactional. Everyone buys everything for everyone else: it’s a big consumer-fest of stuff, most of which isn’t really wanted or needed. To tell someone exactly what you want, and then spend the exact same amount of money on a gift that they asked you to buy in return, seems pointless to me.

The idea that people tell one another what to buy isn’t meaningful, or a way of expressing love, in my mind. Now someone agreeing to spend two hours playing board games with me, even though I know they’d rather not… now that’s love ;)

Of course, I’ve been there. I’ve written lists of things I wanted, and looked at other people’s lists to choose things to buy. I’ve tried to think of things that might be useful to give to others, and I’ve received things myself that were intended to be useful. As we get older, and have more and more stuff, it gets harder, and it all just seems more and more unnecessary.

On the other hand, I understand traditions and customs. I also understand that some people like to show their love through giving gifts. People don’t want to upset their families. And trying to explain to a 6 year-old that they aren’t getting a Christmas gift from you as you’re making a stand against rampant consumption might not go down too well!

So, I’m not proposing that we cancel Christmas.

Instead, I want to help anyone aspiring to a zero waste or minimalist lifestyle to navigate the Christmas present minefield without accumulating a bunch of stuff they don’t want or don’t need, upsetting all the relatives and feeling that they’ve abandoned their values.

If you’re someone who loves Christmas, and gift-giving (or gift-receiving!), then it is not my place to try to persuade you otherwise. Enjoy the festivities! This is for anyone who feels a looming sense of dread as the holiday season approaches, and wants some hints and ideas to do things a little differently.

A Zero Waste (and Minimalist) Guide to Gift Giving (and Receiving)

Part 1: Gift Receiving

1. Try NOT to ask for “Stuff”

If you’re passionate about living life with less stuff or less waste, then think really carefully before you ask for “stuff” for Christmas. It can be tempting, especially if you’re just starting out on the journey and actually need things.

But ultimately, to live this lifestyle you need to step out of the “stuff” game, and the sooner you start, the better. It will take time for friends, relatives and family members to understand that you actually don’t want stuff any more, and asking for “zero waste” stuff confuses the message.

2. Asking for “nothing at all” can be confronting for others.

I would never have believed this if we hadn’t requested that our families not get us anything at all for Christmas one year. Nothing at all, no money, no gifts, no vouchers, nothing. We even left the country for a month over the holiday period.

It worked. We didn’t receive anything. But afterwards, we found out that my mother-in-law had really struggled with it. Not acknowledging her son in some way at Christmas felt really wrong for her, and she was troubled by it. She did it, but found it very hard. I’m not sure she’d have managed it a second year.

It did help break the cycle of “stuff” though, and helped us find a compromise the following year that everyone was happier with.

It might work for you, and it is definitely worth trying if you’re happy with that option. But remember that some people show their love by giving gifts, and you don’t want to be happy at someone else’s expense.

3. Set some rules that keep everyone happy.

If you know that your family and friends like to give gifts, and suspect they will find a no-gift policy confronting, try to choose some rules that will satisfy their need to give gifts whilst keeping the unnecessary stuff to a minimum.

Ideas include:

Make a rule that all gifts should be second-hand.
Specify that all gifts should be homemade.
Put limits on the types of new goods (eg books, tools, plants, or whatever you think would work).
Suggest DIY hampers (food, beauty products or something else) – but be clear about limiting excess packaging!
Ask for only edible goods or drinks (although remember at Christmas the shops are full of novelty, overpackaged, palm oil-filled gifts).
Suggest a Secret Santa where rather than all adults buying gifts for everyone, all names are put into a hat and everyone buys one gift only for the person they picked out of the hat.
Ask for experiences, tickets for shows, workshops or events; even vouchers for restaurants or cafes. Avoid vouchers for shops as these will lead to “stuff”.

4. You need to communicate!

Stepping out of the consumer-fest of Christmas can be difficult, and if you want to make it easier for yourself and everyone around you, it’s better to tell everyone how you’d like things to be, and as soon as you can! There is no point having rules if you haven’t communicated them!

Be clear on your expectations. Don’t leave any room for ambiguity. If you find it hard to tell people in person, send a letter or email.

Just don’t assume that people will realise that your new way of living means you don’t want “stuff” – they likely won’t.

5. Don’t expect the first year to be easy.

It doesn’t matter how clear you think you’ve been, or how many times you’ve explained it, there will likely be mis-steps along the way. You’re on a journey, but everyone else is doing the same thing they’ve always done, and they might not see a reason to change. Or they might think it’s just a phase you’re going through. Or that the rules don’t apply at Christmas.

Rest assured, every year it will get easier, as others understand that it isn’t a phase, and also adjust to the new way of thinking.

The first year that we went plastic-free, we received a number of Christmas presents packaged in plastic. We even received a novelty plastic item packaged in plastic. Everyone knew that we lived plastic-free, and yet somehow it didn’t occur to them that this also applied at Christmas. It took time for the new way of life to sink in.

Now, they wouldn’t dream of it!

6. Don’t hold onto anything out of guilt.

If you get stuff that you don’t need and didn’t ask for, there is no need to keep it out of guilt. Someone choosing to give a gift (out of social pressure, convention, or their own personal need to express their love and appreciation this way) does not mean that you need to choose to keep it.

The meaning is in the gift-giving, not the gift itself. They made that choice, not you.

Donate it, sell it, give it away. Don’t dwell on it. There will be someone out there who will really want what you have, and will use it. If you can connect your unwanted stuff with them, then that’s a far better use of the item than languishing in your cupboard, making you feel guilty every time you see it.

There’s no need to tell the gift-giver, if you don’t want to (although if you do, it will help with not receiving anything next time!). Chances are they won’t remember anyway.

Part 2: Gift Giving

7. Don’t push your values on others.

Deciding to purchase a zero waste kit for your family because you really think they should go zero waste, or buying them a collection of books about decluttering because you think they have too much stuff isn’t actually that different from them buying you a bunch of junk that you didn’t ask for.

You might think it’s useful, but if they won’t use it (and will possibly be insulted in the process!) then it’s just as much a waste.

Similarly, donating money on their behalf to a charity might seem like a great way to avoid present-buying, but if they are expecting a well-wrapped gift from the high street, they won’t thank you for it.

In the same way that you don’t want them to push their expectations on you, don’t push yours onto them.

8. Listen to what they say.

You’d hope friends and family would listen to your requests, and you need to listen to theirs. If they’ve been specific about what they would like (no handmade gifts, no second hand stuff) then you need to honour that.

That doesn’t mean that you need to buy them a bunch of overpackaged stuff. You just need figure the best way to work around what they want without betraying your own values! ;)

9. If in doubt, ask.

If someone has been very specific with their list, but you’re not keen to buy anything on it, come up with your own ideas and ask them what they think.

How do they feel about tickets to the cinema or a show? A voucher for a restaurant? A one-night stay at a local B n B?

What about a day together at a National Park? A picnic or a seaside outing?

Could you offer some kind of services – mowing the lawn, babysitting, cooking dinners for a week?

Is hosting Christmas dinner an option instead of gifts?

10. Can you cancel gifts altogether?

It’s possible that you’re overthinking this, and that actually it’s possible to come to the mutual agreement of not buying anything. As much as people love to receive gifts, many people hate to go Christmas shopping. They might be relieved to know that they don’t have to brave the busy, crowded shops in a desperate attempt to find something you probably won’t like anyway.

Christmas is an expensive time of year, and they might actually appreciate having one less gift to buy.

Don’t rule it out.

…

How we personally deal with Christmas has evolved over time. It’s still not perfect, but we’ve slowly come to a mutual understanding amongst our family and friends. From the first year, when we asked for stuff; to the second year, when we boycotted the whole thing; to the third year, when we even bought some “stuff” for others, we seem to have reached a balance. We no longer buy presents for most of the adults (with mutual agreement), and for those that we do, it’s limited to experiences. For our niece and nephew, we focus on experiences too – things that we can do together. It works for us.

Now I’d love to hear from you! What are your experiences of Christmas? Is this your first year of living a plastic-free, zero waste or minimalist lifestyle? What are your concerns? Have you had any conversations with family yet and how did they go? Have you been living this way for several years? If so, have you found balance that works for you? How have your choices changed over time? Do you have any tips to add? Any stories or experiences to share? Questions to ask? Anything else you’d like to comment on? Please tell me your thoughts in the comments below!

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]

Essentials for a Zero Waste Kitchen

30 Comments/in Minimalism, Zero Waste/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

When it comes to the kitchen, I would not call myself a minimalist. At least, not by “minimalist” standards (whatever they are anyway). That said, I do not consider anything I own to be unnecessary – I do not own special Christmas crockery, or fancy obscure gadgets (cherry stoner, avocado slicer, chocolate fountain), for example.

I own a lot of kitchen things because I like to cook, and I especially like to eat. Whilst I think it’s possible to live zero waste without needing to cook everything from scratch, I personally enjoy making food from scratch. Cooking is my creative outlet.

Making food from scratch requires a bit more stuff.

What is more important to me than minimalism is zero waste, and my kitchen has found a balance that I am happy with. We rarely buy anything new. Our last purchase (in February) was when we moved into our new home. We had to buy a frying pan as our old one didn’t work on the induction hotplate. Borrowing the neighbours’ pan several times a week didn’t really work out for us! (Or them!)

I thought I’d show you round our kitchen, and talk about our zero waste kitchen essentials. Essentials, of course, are a personal thing, depending on what you like to eat, living arrangements, how you cook and where you live.

I don’t think everyone living a zero waste lifestyle would need to own everything that I do. This isn’t an instruction manual, it’s a snapshot of the choices that we’ve made in living zero waste (with a hint of minimalism thrown in).

A Tour of our Zero Waste Kitchen

When I shared this photo on a previous tour of my house, someone asked me if I’d tidied up. OF COURSE I TIDIED UP! My house is not ever as tidy as this unless I make a concerted effort. For example, the draining board is almost always full of drying dishes (one of the downsides of zero waste living is the extra washing up). And there’s often ferments, or sourdough, or harvested veggies sitting on the side.

Yes, I tidied up for you guys ;)

kitchen-pana-hoarder-minimalist-treading-my-own-path

My zero waste, minimalist (ish) kitchen.

Let me introduce the kitchen. It’s an L-shape with an impractical amount of cutlery drawers (there are 7!) and very little cupboard space. I am determined not to add cupboards to the wall, as I like the white space. I’d rather put up pictures!

Kitchen Counters: On our kitchen counters we have 2 large Klean Kanteen growlers. When we run the hot water, it actually takes 7 litres of water to run hot, and we can’t just throw this down the drain. I used to use old wine bottles but we’d end up with 11 or so on the counter, and I couldn’t bear the clutter! These growlers can be used for beer, and we can take them camping.

The white machine in the corner is our food processor (it’s called a Thermomix). It’s got a stainless steel bowl, and also has the function to heat. I use it every day – to blend, chop and mix, mostly. Before this, I had a Magimix, but the bowl was plastic.

Next to the hotplate is a glass jug that doubles as a utensil holder. We have 3 silicon spatulas, a couple of wooden spoons (one for sweet things and one for savoury) and a rolling pin.

The kettle is a stovetop one that we bought second-hand. I like that it lives on the hotplate, rather than cluttering up the counters.

Tall Cupboard: The cupboard on the right was intended to be a pantry, but unless you’re 6 ft tall it’s not very practical and there would be a huge amount of wasted space.

Top shelf: we have a stick blender with various attachments (I sold the ones I didn’t need on eBay!) and a spiraliser. Possibly the only gadget I have that’s a bit gimmicky, but we use it a lot in summer. In fact, my husbands uses it, so it’s staying!

Middle Shelf: we have wine and champagne glasses (currently 5 wine and 2 champagne), water glasses (5 assorted), two short coffee cups (that were originally yoghurt pots), salt and pepper grinders and my onyx ice cube tray. At the back are some glass jars I was storing for a workshop, and my husband’s cycling water bottle.

Bottom shelf: this is the coffee/tea shelf – you just can’t be minimal about that! We own 8 mugs (which seems excessive but my husband originally had 16!), our coffee press, two KeepCups, bits and pieces for the coffee machine (handle thingy, jug, funnel) and of course, tea and coffee.

Drawer 1: I guess the top drawer in our kitchen would be classed as our junk drawer. We keep Hans’ (our adopted greyhound) lead and muzzle in here, sunglasses, garage clicker, pens and seeds. As we had so many drawers that weren’t that useful for much else it made sense to keep this stuff here.

Drawer 2: The second drawer down contains our kitchen scales (so necessary!), our reusable shopping bags, produce bags and reusable wraps. There’s also a black book where I keep my most-used recipes. And yes, I use baking paper (which I reuse, and then compost). You can read why here.

Drawer 3: The third drawer contains most of my reusables. I have 3 baking sheets (one is in the fridge) and 2 cooling racks. I find it useful to have 3 trays when I’m baking as otherwise it takes twice as long and uses more electricity.

The pink and red circles are silicone bowl covers (there’s a white one too that might have been in the fridge).

Then there’s the rest of my silicone bakeware, stainless steel food storage containers and glass Pyrex. I own a lot more Pyrex but it’s often in the fridge or freezer holding leftovers.

Drawer 4: This drawer contains our oven gloves, an apron (I am a messy cook!) and far too many tea towels. I think three is enough, but we will use these out and not replace them. The contraption at the back is a macadamia nut cracker. Those things are tough! (We often buy 5 kg sacks of the nuts, and shell by hand.)

Drawer 5: The rest of my bakeware. Yes, it is necessary to have all of these different sizes! I have 2 square tins, a muffin tin, individual silicone cupcake cases, two sandwich tins and a tiny cake tin for experiments!

I tried to choose something to get rid of when we moved, and I just couldn’t. You know what? I’ve used every single thing since we moved. I guess they are just all essentials!

Drawer 6: Okay, so maybe there’s slightly MORE bakeware in here. And I haven’t used that flan tin in the last 6 months, Still useful, I say!

You’ll notice that despite the front of the drawers being enormous, the sides and back are the same depth as a regular drawer, making them very hard to fill. Hence why the bakeware is spread across three drawers – it is in no way because I have too much!

I have a big maslin pan which I use for preserving and also for cooking up big batches of chickpeas. My frying pan sits on top, and in between is my glass loaf tin – sourdough rusts the metal ones.

Underneath the round cake tin is a banneton basket (for proving sourdough) and three large bowls (one ceramic, two glass).

The pestle and mortar is a charity shop find.Drawer 7: Much as I hate plastic, I dislike a jumbled cutlery drawer more. And there seemed no point discarding what we already had to buy something new and plastic-free.

We have two sharp knifes, and a cutlery set for four (it was originally for 8 but we decluttered the other half). There’s two sets of camping cutlery also. We also have a set of salad servers and a big serving spoon, two tea strainers, a spirit measure, champagne stopper, metal chopsticks, a vegetable peeler, thermometer and corkscrew. Plus there’s some reusable straws (in the boxes).

Of everything, a good sharp knife (ours is the Global brand) is definitely an essential. We also have a set of measuring spoons (not pictured).

Drawer 8: our crockery. We have 6 dinner and side plates, and 5 bowls as one broke (which is fortunate as the drawers are too shallow to hold six bowls). There’s my set of measuring cups, a Pyrex measuring jug and assorted bowls and dishes that get used for various things. The two brown ones were the containers for some fancy dips purchased at the supermarket!

Drawer 9: We have 3 saucepans, and I wouldn’t like any less. I tend to use them for storing leftovers in the fridge also. I have two sieves and two colanders. I use them all, but I am sure once they break I will manage with less.

The glass bottle is a beer growler for our local zero waste beer store.

Drawer 10: The drawer under the oven is even shallower than the other 6, and barely anything fits. We keep our two stainless steel roasting dishes in here and our rectangular Pyrex containers (we have 2, but one is currently in the freezer).

Cupboard under the sink: We keep our extensive jar collection here. Glass jars are useful for everything, and are definitely a zero waste essential!

Corner Cupboard: We keep our coffee machine here, and the dish drying rack. There is also a plastic colander that came with the house (randomly) and more storage tins.

Other cupboard: As well as storing our food, we keep our chopping boards here.

That’s the tour!

Now I’d love to hear from you! Tell me, what are your zero waste kitchen essentials? Do you love cooking, or hate it? How does your kitchen compare with mine? What could you not do without? What can you do perfectly well without? Have you ever thought you’d not be able to manage without something, only to find that you could? Is there anything that I have that jumps out at you as surprising? Are you a gadget fan, and if so, what are your favourite gadgets? Are you much more minimalist than this? Anything else you’d like to add? Please tell me your thoughts in the comments below!

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]

Introducing Hoarder Minimalist: the Decluttering Guide with a Conscience

6 Comments/in Living With Less Waste, Minimalism, Zero Waste/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

On my decluttering journey, I found two questions that nobody seemed to talk about. The first was “how”. There were plenty of resources on the “why”, and the benefits that a life with less could bring. More time, and more freedom. Less clutter, less stuff, less frustration and less stress. I knew that was what I wanted. I could imagine what it felt like. But…

How did I actually get from where I was, to where I wanted to be?

I knew that a “packing party” wasn’t going to work for me. (Ryan Nicodemus from the Minimalists famously held a packing party, where he boxed up the entire contents of his house, and over three weeks discovered what he needed and what he didn’t. At the end of the three weeks, he discarded everything he didn’t use.) There was no way I could do that. There was no way I wanted to do that. I wanted to take my time and think through my decisions. But I didn’t want to be thinking through my decisions for the next few years!

Other than a few decluttering games, I couldn’t really find much information on the “how”.

The second was the waste. Everything I read seemed to gloss over the bit where we have to decide what we are going to do with the stuff! It seemed to be whittled down to a few words: “donate, sell or discard.” What was the best way to donate? Where was the best place to donate it? How did I ensure I wasn’t just burdening the already full charity shops? What about selling? And most of all, surely there was a better place for everything else than “discard”?

Was it even possible to declutter without sending anything to landfill?

I’ve always been passionate about living with less waste. Yes, what that looks like has changed over the years (gone are the days when I thought that recycling everything was good enough!). Decluttering and minimalism have been extensions of this for me: both in terms of resources (owning stuff that I don’t use is a waste of resources) and in the wider sense (wasting my time, energy, money and at times, my sanity). I couldn’t declutter if I thought everything was going to end up in the bin; for me, it would defeat the purpose.

I’m know I’m not the only one who feels like this. I know I’m not the only person who dreams of a life with less waste and less stuff, and wants practical steps to achieve it without sending plastic sacks of usable items to landfill!

So how does somebody who cares about waste declutter, and what do they do with the things that they no longer need?

Those were the questions that I couldn’t find the answers to. Now I’ve got to the end of my decluttering journey, I have those answers, and I want to share them with you.

I’ve spent the last few months pouring all of the lessons learned, a-ha moments realised and the actions taken, and I’ve created a resource that I’m really proud of. Called ~~Hoarder~~ Minimalist, it’s a comprehensive guide to decluttering with a conscience. It’s not just a bunch of tips and tricks: it’s a practical plan with actionable steps for anyone wanting to live a life with less stuff, who values experiences over things, and who doesn’t want to trash the planet in the process.

Decluttering isn’t something that can be finished in a single weekend, but it doesn’t need to take forever! There is an end and you can get there. I know that by sharing my experiences, you will make progress quicker and see results faster. Whether you’ve been decluttering for a while, you’ve just started out, or you’re still in the thinking-about-it stages, the life you dream about is just around the corner… and whist the journey is rewarding, the end is definitely better! After all, it’s about more than stuff. It’s about freedom.

Introducing…Hoarder Minimalist: Decluttering the Zero Waste Way

~~Hoarder~~ Minimalist offers a Main Book, a Workbook and a Journey Planner. The Main Book (147 pages) is the roadmap for your decluttering journey: an actionable step-by-step guide to living with less. There’s a whole section devoted to letting go of your items responsibly. The Workbook allows you to explore some of the ideas presented in the Main Book in more detail, and to really personalise them to your own individual set of circumstances. The Journey Planner is for you to track your journey, record your milestones and watch your progress unfold.

Option One: The Hoarder Minimalist Bundle contains the Main Book, the Workbook and the Planner, and is priced at AU $26.95 (bundled savings $7.95).

Option Two: Alternatively, if Workbooks and Planners aren’t your thing, and you don’t want to pay for stuff you don’t need (I get that! You’re decluttering, after all!) the main Hoarder Minimalist book is available to purchase separately for $19.95.

(If you change your mind later on, the Workbook is also available to purchase separately for $14.95).

And of course, I cannot wait to hear your decluttering stories! Any revelations, a-ha moments and epiphanies – share them all! I’d love to see any before-and-after pictures too. If you’ve any questions, suggestions or comments, I will be happy to help. I always love to to hear from you. In short, my inbox is always open, as are the comments below!

Good luck with the journey, and I will see you on the other side : )

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]

A Zero Waste Minimalist House Tour (Yes, Hoarders Can Change)

65 Comments/in Minimalism, Zero Waste/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

Last week I talked about how I’d successfully decluttered my wardrobe (after many attempts and years of trying). In my journey towards living with less waste, I’ve learned that owning stuff we don’t use, don’t like and don’t need is as much a waste as throwing it away. After all, it’s taking up space, time and energy, and for what?! It isn’t being used!

Decluttering doesn’t have to mean throwing stuff away, though. There is no need to send anything to landfill – so long as you have the patience and the commitment to seek out new homes for the things you no longer require. Even the act of giving things away has really cemented in me the understanding that if I don’t want to create waste, I have to think very carefully about what I let through my front door. If I don’t need it, it isn’t coming in…because it will only be something to deal with (and stress over) later.

After years of battling with trying to let go; knowing that my stuff was taking up my time, energy and space, but feeling powerless to act, I’ve found my own way. A way that didn’t involve car boot-fulls of stuff to the tip, or black bin liners dumped in the nearest charity bin with more that a little doubt that any of those items would get re-sold. I made peace with my stuff, and my past choices. Rather than wasting my energy feeling guilty and remorseful about those choices, I used this energy to find new homes for the things I no longer used. Decluttering with a conscience.

My driving force has always been to find my “enough”. I’m not interested in pursuing as little as possible, or being able to count my possessions, or fit them into one suitcase. My “enough” doesn’t look like that. My “enough” is everything that I need, and nothing more. My “enough” means several different sized baking tins; it means a collection of glass jars for food storage and preserving; it means more than one pair of shoes. What my “enough” is not: it is not stuff languishing in the back of the cupboard. It is not stuff that makes me feel guilty, or remorseful. It is not stuff that I’m keeping “just-in-case” when I know deep down that “just-in-case” will never happen.

On that note, I’d love to show you round my home! This is what “enough” looks like for me. Your “enough” probably looks completely different. It’s not about right or wrong, or better or worse. It’s about being true to ourselves. I’m sure there are things I own that you can’t imagine why I’d need them, and similarly, I’m sure I don’t have things that you couldn’t possibly live without! (The great thing about this is, when other people have things that we don’t own, there is always the opportunity to share – to lend and borrow!)

The Kitchen:

Inside some of the drawers:

Under the sink:

The Lounge Area:

Our Dining Table:

My Desk / The Spare Room:

The Bathroom:

The bathroom cupboard:

Books:

The Bedroom:

Under the bed:

I used to try to imagine what it would feel like to live in an uncluttered home, and let me tell you, it feels so good to finally be there! Knowing that there will be no more weekends of sorting and decluttering, and that my weekends are mine to spend how I really want to. Which isn’t rearranging my stuff…again. I’d wonder if I’d regret letting go of things, but in truth, I haven’t missed anything. It’s amazing how little I truly need. I just needed to let go of the excess to find this out. All that extra stuff was just wasted time, money and energy… and a huge distraction. I just wish I’d realised sooner, and made a few less mistakes along the way.

Decluttering hasn’t been an easy journey for me, but it has been rewarding and so worthwhile. Now I’ve had the chance to reflect, I’ve taken all those lessons and insights, and I’m putting them together into a brand new resource. If you’re looking to declutter your life (and especially if you hate waste!) I think you’re going to love it! All is revealed here.

What’s next for me? Well, I’m keen to keep experimenting with the idea of less. To keep questioning if I really need things, and to let them go if I don’t. I’m confident that by choosing more versatile garments in future, I will minimalise my wardrobe further. I’m sure I can make space in other areas, too. Time will tell : )

Now I’d love to hear from you!? What did you think of my version of “enough”? How does it compare to your idea of “enough”? Has your version of “enough” changed over time? If you are decluttering, what are your current goals? What are your biggest problem areas, and where have your biggest successes been? If you’re already living a minimalist lifestyle, what were the biggest lessons you learned along the way? What were the hardest items for you to give away/let go of, and how do you feel about them now? If you had your time again, what would you do differently? Anything else you’d like to add? I love hearing your thoughts so please leave a comment below!

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]

5 Excuses that Stopped me Decluttering (here’s what happened when I stopped listening to them)

32 Comments/in Minimalism, Zero Waste/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

My ideal wardrobe looks something like this…

…A small selection of clothes that I like, that fit me, and that I wear regularly. I can remember the last time I wore everything, and think of an occasion where I will wear each item again in the near future.

…Everything fits in the space, it does not feel crammed in or squished, and I can see at a glance everything that I own. Choosing an outfit is easy. I do not spend hours trying to piece together an outfit, or trying on and taking off multiple items before choosing the same old thing I wear every day. I have a clear idea of what goes with what, and most items I own can be paired with a number of other items.

…The clothes I own are comfortable, and I enjoy wearing them. That does not mean I will ever win prizes for fashion awareness, style, or colour coordination. It does not mean my clothes are perfect. But I am happy with the things that I own.

For three years I worked on decluttering my wardrobe. It was a slow and thankless process, and progress was slow. Very slow.

July 2014… [Everything on the rail to the left of grey trousers hanging near the suitcase, plus the two shelves immediately under the towels are mine.]

wardrobe decluttering and minimalism in progress

Jan 2015… [Everything on the rail to the left of the ties hanging on the right, plus the two shelves immediately under the towels are mine.]

October 2015… [Everything to the right of the dress hanging in the centre and the two shelves on the left underneath the towels are mine.]

It was only when I really thought about why I was decluttering my wardrobe, and my home in general, that I began to formulate a plan, and over the next six months my wardrobe went from that…

…to this:

Wardrobe Decluttering August 2016 Treading My Own Path SML

My half is everything to the left of the long dress.

Wardrobe Decluttering Drawers Treading My Own Path August 2016 1000px

Everything that isn’t hanging on the rail fits in a single drawer.

There are 26 items hanging on the rail, plus 2 jackets. I’m wearing another pairs of jeans, a t-shirt, a jumper and a scarf. The drawer contains exercise wear (2 pairs of cycling shorts, a cycling top and cropped leggings) plus 2 pairs of shorts, another top, 2 scarves, underwear (2 bras plus the one I’m wearing, 7 pairs of socks and 8 pairs of underwear) and a pair of leggings. There is a top in the laundry basket. In total, that’s 60 items, and excluding underwear, 42 items.

Do I have a perfect wardrobe? No. It’s not as mix-and-matchable as it could be, and I’m clearly no style queen. Do I feel that it is enough? Definitely. I wear everything on the rail. And I know that as things need replacing, I will choose better.

For 3+ years I chipped away at my wardrobe. What finally pushed me to declutter to a place I was happy with?

Firstly, I drilled down to what I wanted from my life. More time, and more freedom – who doesn’t want that? But what did it mean to me? What did it look like? And how was my stuff getting in the way of that? (I wrote about this in my last blog post, so here’s the link if you missed it.) This is what I did next.

Long-time readers will know that my wardrobe has been my biggest struggle, but these tips can be applied anywhere. A laundry closet piled high with towels and bedding. A toy cupboard so full the door won’t quite close. A garage or shed stacked high with boxes, some of which you’re not entirely sure what they contain.

I took everything out of my wardrobe and into the lounge, as I had done several times before, and one by one I went through each item. I asked myself – did I wear it (and more specifically – could I remember when I last wore it, and think when I might wear it again in the near future), did I need it, and did I like it? There were only three possible answers: yes, not sure, and no.

Everything that was a resounding “yes” went straight back into my wardrobe. The “no” pile was put aside for sorting – those items for selling or donating, and any rags. What was left was the “not sure” pile.

Now I went through each piece and asked myself: what story or excuse am I telling myself about this item? What is my reason for holding onto this? Why was I “not sure”?

I found there were a few common excuses I was telling myself.

Excuse #1 :I’ll lose weight and slim back into the clothes that used to fit.

Of course this could be true. But I’d been telling myself that I was going to slim into my clothes for three years. I’d set myself a 3-month deadline, and when I failed to meet it, extend it by another three months. The truth is, I wasn’t increasing my exercise or giving up chocolate, and when it came to it, I didn’t really want to. My weight was unlikely to change. If it did, would I even want to wear those clothes that had been languishing in my wardrobe for 3+ years?

Why allow myself to be reminded of what I hadn’t achieved every single time I opened my wardrobe doors?

Excuse #2: I’ll wear it someday/it might come in useful.

The real question is: why didn’t I wear it now? I found that my reasons included: because I already owned something similar that I preferred, it wasn’t comfortable, it wasn’t appropriate for the weather, or it simply wasn’t practical. In the past I’ve been guilty of keeping items of clothing for the time when other, preferred garments wear out, and I’ve learned that well-made clothes take a surprisingly long time to wear out. When they do, will I even want to wear that garment that sat in the closet untouched and unloved for 3+ years?

Uncomfortable clothes rarely (or ever) become comfortable. The weather is unlikely to change much (I’ve no plans to move), and the clothes I own need to be practical for where I live and what I do now.

When I drilled down to it, this idea of “just in case” was generally linked to these next excuses.

Excuse #3: I’ll never get back what I paid for it, so getting rid of it would be a waste of money.

I have purchased items that I then haven’t worn, or have only worn a handful of times. It was never my intention not to wear them, but because they weren’t comfortable or practical, I chose not to. Some of these items were expensive to buy, and others had taken a while to track down, so they had cost me time and money. I didn’t want to feel that I’d wasted my money, and I kept them.

The truth is, I had wasted my money. I wasted it the moment I made the purchase. Whether the item sat in my wardrobe or was given away, that didn’t change. I’d made a poor choice – it happens, and we’ve all done it! But rather than forgiving myself for making a poor choice, I’d keep the item hanging there, unworn. It didn’t persuade me to wear it. It simply reminded me every time I opened my wardrobe doors that I’d wasted my money, and left me feeling guilty.

Excuse #4: If I could find the right shoes/haircut/accessories, it would suit me.

I kept items that didn’t really suit me because I loved the look of them. I loved the fabric, or the design, or the colour – but sadly it didn’t love me back. I was holding onto this idea of my “fantasy self” – the me who looked good in these clothes.

However, the reality was, they didn’t suit me and I didn’t wear them. They weren’t flattering, and didn’t suit my skin tone, body shape, or my age. I realised that loving the style (or the design, or the brand) doesn’t always translate into wearability. Just because it looked great on the model in the catalogue, or in the shop on the rail, that didn’t necessarily translate into looking great on me.

Excuse #5: I hate waste, and getting rid of stuff is a waste.

This was the excuse I struggled with most. I’d justify keeping things that I didn’t wear because “I didn’t want them to go to waste”. Yet there is no rule that says decluttered items need to go in the bin. With a bit of effort, it is possible to find new homes and uses for old clothes.

I turned my idea of waste around. If I had items that I didn’t use and didn’t wear, surely keeping them was a waste? The idea that by sitting in my home unused they were not going to waste was crazy! If I could donate them, that was a far better use of resources.

What about the really tatty stuff? At some stage clothes need to be gotten rid of. I’m happy to darn holes and wear old clothes, but there comes a point when I start to feel miserable and frumpy. For me, that’s when they have to go. I have to let them go. Keeping them and hating them is not healthy, nor is it helpful (and they don’t get worn). It’s fine to have a set of old ugly clothes for the garden (if you actually garden) but there’s no need to have a wardrobe full of them. (That doesn’t mean they need to be binned. They can be cut up into rags for cleaning, composted or recycled.)

…

As I went through each item one by one, I reminded myself why I was doing this. What the end goal was. Why each choice mattered. Did I want to keep unnecessary items in my home? No. What would the costs (in time, energy and money) be? I’d attempted to declutter my wardrobe over and over. It really wasn’t that much fun. Did I want to go through the same process in another six months, and then another? What would the time spent decluttering be taking away from?

This time, there were no excuses. There were no ‘if’s or ‘but’s or ‘maybe’s. There was plenty of guilt. I’m not someone who lets go of things lightly. But this time, guilt wasn’t a reason to keep things. It was a reason to let them go.

What’s next for my wardrobe? I’m looking forward to building a capsule wardrobe, with more flexibility and things-that-go-with-other-things. I’m planning to try experimenting with less. But for now, I’m enjoying the simplicity of my wardrobe exactly as it is: no more can’t-find-anything-to-wear sulking, no more guilt, definitely no excuses, and no more weekends spent decluttering…again.

[Want to see the rest of my house? Next week I’ll be sharing how we’ve decluttered and what our minimalist living space looks like, so if you’re keen to have a virtual nose around, stay tuned!]

Now I’d love to hear from you! Do you struggle with wardrobe decluttering or do you find it easy? How do you feel about your wardrobe right now? Are you happy, or do you feel like you have a bit of work to do? Tell me about any wardrobe decluttering experiences… the good, the not-so-good and the downright terrible! What have been your biggest struggles? Are there any excuses that you tell yourself? What have been your best wins or greatest realizations? Do you have any tips to share? Is there anything you need help with or ideas? If you were going to add to this list, what would your advice be? Anything else you’d like to add? I can’t wait to hear your thoughts so please leave me a comment below!

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]

From Decluttering to Done: can this one step make all the difference?

17 Comments/in Minimalism, Zero Waste/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

About a year ago, I was in a local town hall, with friends, watching a live band perform on a Saturday night. I was enjoying the music, and the company, but in the back of my mind I was distracted, thinking about other stuff. Or more specifically, I was thinking about stuff. My stuff.

I’d spent the day trying to declutter. I was planning to continue the following day. I was wondering whether I should get rid of something (I don’t remember what – maybe an item of clothing), or if I needed it, and what the best way to dispose of it would be… and then I caught myself. I noticed what I was doing, and realised how absurd it was.

I was letting my stuff spoil the moment. I was letting my stuff take up valuable space in my mind, as well as in my home. I was letting the process of decluttering take over my free time and my thoughts.

I’d been slowly decluttering over the past three years. I’d got rid of a heap of things I didn’t need and didn’t use, but the process had been slow. Here and now, at the gig, I realised that the longer I took, the more I was taking time and energy away from doing what I really wanted to be doing. (Which was not rearranging my wardrobe – again.)

The longer I took, the more I’d miss out on living my best life. “My best life” didn’t mean anything profound – it was as simple as this one evening.

Being able to spend time with my friends, or relax on a Saturday night. I could carry on decluttering the way I’d been going, and I’d still get there, but it would be long and drawn-out. How many moments like this would I miss in the process? I didn’t want to waste any more time. And so I didn’t. I made a plan.

I was clear what I wanted: a life with less stuff. I knew why in general terms: more time, more freedom, more connections and experiences. Yet I’d never really thought about what this actually looked like or felt like for me. The concert seemed to connect those dots. It really drilled down to my “why”.

What did more time look like? What did it feel like? What did I personally mean by freedom? What kind of experiences was I searching for? Was it about the big, soul-searching experiences, or was it being able to enjoy the simple things on a Sunday afternoon, undistracted by chores and clutter?

Why did I want a life with less stuff? There were many reasons.

I wanted more time.

I didn’t want to spend hours cleaning my home, or sorting, or dusting and vacuuming and putting stuff away.

I didn’t want to spend time rearranging ornaments or shopping for accessories.

I didn’t want to waste time looking for stuff amidst the clutter, or rummaging through overflowing drawers or cupboards.

I didn’t want to open my wardrobe to find a stuffed closet yet nothing to wear, trying on endless outfits before just wearing the same thing I always wore.

I didn’t want to be preoccupied thinking about my stuff.

What did I want to do instead? I wanted to spend my free time exploring, learning, and spending time with the people I care about. Visiting National Parks, reading, and leisurely breakfasts with family.

I wanted to spend my free time experiencing new things, being outdoors, and getting involved with my local community. I wanted to spend time with my friends, in a local town hall on a Saturday night, watching a band – not distracted by old jumpers and other stuff.

I wanted the stuff I owned to be useful and make my life easier – not distract me and take time away from the truly important things.

I wanted more freedom.

For me, freedom simply means having options. It’s not about being able to pack everything I own into a suitcase and heading off into the sunset. For me it’s about being able to make choices about how I spend my time. Not having to work extra long hours to pay for stuff I don’t need, or feeling burdened by a house full of possessions that need maintaining.

For me, freedom comes from having less stuff. Not owning more than I think is necessary (what I call my “enough”). The less I own, the more freedom I create for myself because the more choices I have. My husband and I can live comfortably in a small space with little storage. In Perth, this means we can live in a central location in a neighbourhood we like, close to amenities and transport. If we needed to move, or to pack up, we have the choice to do so – and owning less makes it easier.

My family live on the other side of the world, and part of this freedom means having enough savings in our bank account that if I needed to make a trip home, I could. It is far more important to me to have the money saved for that than to own a brand new dining suite, or the latest mobile phone.

Owning less also means less debt. The only debt we have is our mortgage. We saved up a sizable deposit to reduce the amount of debt we took on, and we made sure we could comfortably afford the repayments. Taking on a mortgage was a big decision, and we would love to be debt-free, but we don’t feel like our mortgage is stopping us doing the things we want to do – and for us, that is important. Previously we rented, and we loved the freedom that gave us. We don’t really see one as being better than the other: both offer different freedoms to us.

I wanted more connections and experiences.

I want to spend time with friends and family, I want to learn and to travel and to experience new things, and I want to have time to get involved in and contribute to my local community. I used to feel embarrassed about inviting friends over because I always felt that my home was a mess. As I began decluttering, a lot of the mess seemed to go away – and what was left was easier to deal with. I can’t believe I let my stuff get in the way of those relationships!

I also found that by breaking the cycle of working and shopping, I could use the money saved to go out for dinner with family, or take a short break down south to get amongst the trees and reconnect with nature. I created space in my evenings and weekends to take part in community events and contribute in a way that added value to my life and allows me to give something back to my local community.

I wanted less guilt, and less waste.

Every time I was faced with something in my home that I didn’t need, didn’t use or didn’t like, I would feel a wave of guilt. I’d feel guilty that I’d bought something that I hadn’t used, feel guilty that I’d got sucked in by some clever marketing campaign, maybe feel guilty that I wasn’t quite how I wanted to be. (If you have anything hanging in your wardrobe that doesn’t fit, you will know this feeling!) I don’t enjoy feeling guilty, so why didn’t I do something about it?

Somehow I’d justify keeping all these things because I hated the waste. Except, I’d failed to see that by keeping things that I didn’t want, didn’t use and didn’t like, I was creating waste. I was wasting good resources by not using them. If I wasn’t going to use them (and I mean by this, if I wasn’t going to use them properly, or regularly – if I wasn’t going to love them and get the best use out of them) then they were already being wasted.

Rather than feeling guilty about getting rid of perfectly good stuff, I began to realise that it was far worse and less ethical to keep perfectly good things for myself when I knew deep down that I wasn’t going to use them. It would be far better to pass them on for someone else to love them and get maximum use from them. Not only that, but all this worrying and contemplating was wasting my time…time I could spend doing other, better things.

There’s nothing wrong with taking time to declutter and make space in our lives. These things do take time. Decluttering is not something that is finished in a single weekend. But time is valuable, and the longer we take, the more we miss out on doing the important things.

I have no doubt that in the three years that it took me to get to this point, I missed out on great opportunities and experiences. After the concert, I was determined not to allow another three years to slip by. I wasn’t putting my dreams on hold for three more years. I didn’t want to ever be at another concert worrying about how many things were in my wardrobe.

More time and more freedom – we all want that. (“I really wish there were less hours in the day”, said no-one, ever.) What was a game-changer for me, what really made me see results, was actually drilling down into the specifics of what more time and more freedom actually looked like in my life, and what benefits they would bring to me, personally. What was it that I really wanted? How would I use this extra time? What did “freedom” actually mean to me? Then the biggest question – how was the stuff I owned preventing me from achieving this? How could decluttering, and letting stuff go, help me get closer to these goals?

Once I was really, truly clear on my goals, everything began to change. Joining the dots shifted my perspective: I was no longer somebody who simply liked the idea of a life with less stuff, and who slowly chipped away at decluttering the excess. The task at hand now had meaning and purpose, and a sense of urgency that hadn’t existed before. Even my decluttering nemesis, the wardrobe, finally came within my grasp. (In next week’s blog I’m going to share some “before” and “after” pictures so stay tuned.)

It’s not enough to simply want to make changes in our lives. We have to know why. We have to be clear on the benefits, and what they mean to us. Change can be hard, and there will be setbacks and wrong turns along the way. Being really clear as to why we’re doing it, and what we truly want, is what enables us to get up after these missteps, dust ourselves off, and try again.

Now I’d love to hear from you! Have you tried to make changes in your life? Have you considered your “why”? Have you thought about what success will look like, and feel like, for you? What are your main reasons for wanting to change? Have you struggled with change in the past, and did you manage to overcome those struggles? o you have any insights or tips to share? Have you embraced the idea of decluttering – and has that embrace transformed into action? Are you stuck at the planning stage? Have you had success – and what were your secrets? Do you have anything else you’d like to share! I can’t wait to hear your thoughts so please leave a comment below!

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]

6 (Embarrassing) Confessions of a Zero Waste Minimalist

35 Comments/in Minimalism, Zero Waste/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

Ah, those embarrassing decisions of the past. We’ve all made them. (Yes, all of us!) When we change our lifestyles, there are all those choices we made pre- lifestyle change that – when we think back to them – just make us want to cringe. Did we really think / do / say that?!

My personal lifestyle-changing epiphany came in 2012, and for the last four years I’ve lived a plastic-free, zero waste and minimalist lifestyle. I’ve embraced the idea of having “enough”, and slowly reduced my annual landfill waste to fit in a jar, and decluttered all the unnecessary things that were going to waste in my home. But for every “after” there is a “before”.

Let me tell you, my pre-2012 self made some pretty cringe-worthy choices. Here are 6 of my worst.

I “collected” single-serve sachets.

As a kid, I liked to collect stuff. In addition to my collection of National Trust bookmarks and interesting pebbles and rocks, I used to collect single-serve sachets of sauce and sugar. I have no idea why. I had no use for sachets of hollandaise or tartare or French dressing, yet I was fascinated by these tiny plastic portions of sauce.

I’d clear out whole condiment trays at cafes, and store them at home in a box. Sometimes I’d take them out and admire them. I loved how small they were, and all the different colours. But I never used them. Now, the waste of single-serve items means I’d never, ever take one – and I certainly wouldn’t admire them!

**I used to ask for an extra straw.**

As a teenager and in my early twenties, if I ordered a drink in a bar, I used to ask for an extra straw. One straw wasn’t enough for me, I had to have two! I wish I could shed some sort of light onto why I thought this was necessary, but to be honest, it completely baffles me. Now I live with straw shame.

I purchased (and used) a coffee pod machine.

This must be my most embarrassing, shameful confession. Yes, in my mid-twenties I purchased a coffee pod machine as a birthday gift for a partner… and of course, I used it. It wasn’t a Nespresso machine with those metal pods, it was a cheaper version with the plastic, non-recyclable pods. Not that the recyclability of the pods matters, because the waste that goes into the production of new pods cannot be offset by recycling the old ones, whatever the material.

Single-use convenience at the expense of the planet. There are so many other ways to make and enjoy a decent coffee. I thought that pod coffee tasted good. Now it leaves a very bitter taste in my mouth.

I bought “novelty” gifts.

Novelty gifts. Those “humorous” items that get a laugh, and maybe a few minutes of pleasure, before spending the rest of eternity in landfill. The presents you give to people “who have everything” – yes, I fell for the marketing.

If someone truly has everything, they definitely don’t need novelty gifts. No-one needs pointless tat. Was it really worth spending my money on stuff like this, and creating the extra waste for a couple of laughs? No. Now, if I need to buy a gift for somebody who has everything, I buy tickets, or a restaurant voucher, or an experience. Or toilet paper. Because even people who have everything need toilet paper.

I bought things I didn’t need because they were “bargains”.

Who doesn’t love a bargain? Bargains are one thing, butI used to confuse bargains with “stuff that’s been reduced in the sale”. Actually, these are quite different. A bargain is something that you need, that is available to buy for far less than it is actually worth. Something in the sale is an item that is being sold at a cheaper price than it once was. That doesn’t mean it’s a bargain (it could be on ‘sale’ from a heavily inflated price). If we don’t need it, it definitely isn’t a bargain!

I used to shop in the sales. I’d buy things that were heavily reduced (the big red tag told me so) simply because they were reduced. I didn’t think about whether I needed it, would wear or use it, and how much I would have paid if I had seen it without the red tag. Saving money was a reason to buy it – except I wasn’t saving money at all. I was spending money. Buying stuff I didn’t need was a waste of money, time and resources… and it just added to the clutter and stress of my home. Now I’m clear: a bargain is only a bargain if I need it.

I owned stuff I never used.

Pre-2012, I never really thought about how wasteful and unnecessary this was. It wasn’t that I intended not to use things, but I’d somehow entangled my sense of identity in with the stuff I purchased. I’d pin my dreams of being slimmer on buying tighter-fitting clothes. I’d attach my hopes of mastering a new hobby by buying all the equipment. I’d envision the life that I imagined for myself, and choose things that fitted in that life, rather than the one I actually lived.

I’d buy products before the act, so to speak, and these things remained unused, singing my failures softly to me whenever I saw them in the back of the cupboard. Both minimalism and zero waste have taught me that if it’s not being used, it’s going to waste. Keeping things we don’t use isn’t an inspiration to change, it’s a reminder that we didn’t. If it’s not useful now, it’s better off being given to someone who will use it. Now I only own things that I use.

…

Why am I sharing this with you? Not because I enjoy embarrassing myself! I want to show you that people can change. We’ve all made poor choices in the past. I certainly have! Those poor choices don’t define me though, just as they don’t define you. We all have the opportunity to do things differently next time.

We can take those poor choices and learn from them, and make better choices in the future. We can look back and laugh (or cry!) at the memories, but we don’t need to hold onto them. Those choices represent who we were, not who we are, nor who we are capable of becoming.

It doesn’t matter if those choices were years ago, or last week, or even this morning. Mistakes made in the past, however recent, are no reason to avoid trying again in the future. Whether that’s reducing plastic consumption, refusing single use items, stepping off the consumer treadmill or something completely different, we can all make different choices. Forgive yourself for those cringe-worthy choices of the past. Know that next time, you can choose better.

Now I’d love to hear from you! Were there any of these that you could relate to? Any that you (fortunately) never made the mistake of choosing? If you’ve made lifestyle changes, did you have an “epiphany” or was it more a gradual process that led you to make changes and see things differently? Was it one thing that inspired you to live life differently or a number of different things? Do you have any confessions of your own? What embarrassing secrets do you have from your past that makes your present self cringe in despair? If you’re in the process of making changes, are there any current habits you have that you’re beginning to question and wonder why you make those choices? Is there anything else that you’d like to add? Please tell me your thoughts in the comments below!

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]

What This Single Wardrobe Item Taught Me About Minimalism

50 Comments/in Living With Less Waste, Minimalism/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

I recently took a trip to the charity shop to find myself a black, long-sleeved top. My previous one had life-expired at the end of last winter, and I needed one to wear underneath a big thick woolly jumper dress (we are in the depths of winter here in Perth, and Australia gets colder than you might expect).

The shopping trip was uneventful – after visiting a few stores, I found a suitable black top (made from 100% cotton – I’m trying to reduce the amount of plastic fibres in my wardrobe) and took it home.

What I bought wasn’t interesting. What was interesting was the realisation that came afterwards.

What one black top made me realise about minimalist living…

I was trying to remember what the last item of clothing was that I bought. I thought back over the last couple of months, but I couldn’t think of anything.

I thought back a little further, but still nothing.

I remembered that at the start of the year I went on holiday. I definitely didn’t buy anything whilst I was away, and I didn’t buy anything new for the trip. I thought back to last year. I remembered I purchased a new bra (actually, two). That would have been last September. I didn’t buy any new clothes for 9 months.

What was most interesting to me was not that I hadn’t purchased any clothes for 9 months, but that I hadn’t even noticed. I hadn’t wanted or needed to buy anything, and so I hadn’t.

What I owned already was enough. There had been no struggle, no doubt, no frustration and no resentment that I hadn’t purchased anything. That’s what it is meant to feel like, I realised. Minimalism, decluttering and finding our “enough” has nothing to do with going without, or holding back.

It is about finding our “enough”.

Being content with what we have. No chasing more or pursuing better.

How things change! Of course, it didn’t used to feel like that. It didn’t feel like that at all! There was a time when I bought new clothes to cheer myself up, to feel better, to “prepare” for a holiday or new job, for a special occasion or event,… oh, and if I just happened to be walking past a shop window and saw something I liked.

I was never a prolific spender, but I had way too many clothes. The idea of not buying anything new even for a couple of months would have sparked fear, resentment, and probably a rebellious why-shouldn’t-I-buy-it shopping trip. (In fact, I remember an specific occasion where that did happen!)

So what changed?

I realized that I owned too many clothes.

That was probably my first realisation. That my wardrobe was full, yet I didn’t wear many of the things that I owned.

I realized that if I couldn’t bear the idea of throwing any away, I had to stop buying more.

In the beginning, I found wardrobe decluttering really hard. I couldn’t bear to part with anything! I didn’t want to get rid of the tatty old worn out stuff (I care too much about waste) but I didn’t want to get rid of the shiny new stuff either. (I would enjoy wearing it once the old stuff wore out, surely?)

My logic was, that if I couldn’t bear to get rid of anything, then I had to stop buying more.

The logic made sense at the time, but it didn’t seem fair. I resented it. Have you ever felt like that? My tattiest clothes made me feel grumpy when I wore them. Every now and then I’d buy something new – because I wanted to cheer myself up, because I was sick of the same old tatty things, or because I needed something to wear.

Despite having a full wardrobe, I just didn’t seem to have anything to wear.

I realized that my relationship with clothes was all wrong.

I started really asking myself why I had a wardrobe full of clothes, but nothing to wear.

I asked myself why I purchased things, and then never wore them.

I asked myself why I used clothes shopping as a way to cheer myself up.

I found some answers.

I realized that I had a tendency to buy clothes that were a little on the tight side (rather than the next size up) because I really wanted to be slightly slimmer than I was. This slimmed-down version of myself never happened, so I was left with a lot of items that were a little too clingy, tight and uncomfortable.

I realised that many items I owned and liked simply didn’t match with other things that I owned. They weren’t complete outfits.

I realised that when I did buy new clothes, it was a reaction to feeling miserable wearing tatty things. I care about waste, but if wearing tatty clothes makes me want to go shopping, that doesn’t work, does it? I realised that I was a little too swayed by adverts and shop windows.

I realised that other things brought more meaning to my life than clothes shopping, made me happier and were far more fulfilling.

I realized that I needed a wardrobe full of things that I actually liked to wear, and that fitted.

This seems so obvious, but the theory did not match the reality when it came to my wardrobe. There were plenty of “used to fit, and maybe will fit again” items, even though I knew it had been years since I last wore them.

There were plenty of items I liked the look of, but didn’t find them comfortable, or practical. There were plenty of items that didn’t match anything else.

What I needed were clothes that did fit, were versatile and practical, that I liked and wore often. Anything else was wasted space (and resources).

I realized, each time I decluttered, that I could manage with far less than I thought.

Most of us have full wardrobes, and wear the same five or so outfits every day. Back in 2014, I thought reducing my wardrobe down to 100 items would be a milestone achievement. At the time I owned 169 items, and that was after 2 years of decluttering!

Yet when I got to 100 items, I realised that it was still far more than I needed. I wasn’t wearing everything I owned. As I reduced further, I still knew there were items I didn’t wear often enough. I went from feeling like I “needed” things to being very clear that I didn’t. I had enough.

Minimalism is not about going without. Minimalism is about finding our “enough”. In those 9 months, I never felt like I was going without. Not buying anything new was easy.

It hasn’t always been easy, but slowly, something has changed. I stopped pursuing more. I stopped seeking solace through shopping. I let go of the idea of “needing” more and embraced the idea of “enough”.

Owning less has been eye-opening, satisfying, and ultimately, very rewarding. But wanting less is even better.

Now it’s your turn – I’d love to hear your thoughts! Are you working towards pursuing a life with less? What lessons have you learned along the way? What a-ha moments came to you? Have you struggled with letting go, and what are your reasons? What obstacles have you faced? Have you ever felt guilt, or resentment, or frustration in the pursuit of less? (Surely it’s not just me?!) How have you been able to turn that round? Or is it something that you still struggle with? Are you new to the journey, and if so, what are your biggest challenges? I’d love to hear about your experiences so please share them with me and leave a comment below!

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]

5 Lessons on “Enough” Learned from Minimalism

34 Comments/in Minimalism/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

At the very core of minimalism is the idea of embracing “enough”: figuring out what is truly important and useful, and letting go of the rest. We often think about this in terms of the things we own, but actually it’s more than that. Minimalism is not just about having enough. It’s just as much about being enough.

Being enough means finding contentment and acceptance with our lives the way they are right now, in the present moment. That’s not to say we don’t want things to be different, nor is it dismissive of the fact that change can be good and worthwhile; it’s more about letting go of expectations.

It’s about finding happiness in the present, rather than pinning it on the future (I’ll be happier when x). It all comes down to enjoying the journey rather than focusing solely on the outcome – which may or may not happen as we’d like it to.

That’s not to say it’s easy! We’re hardwired to dream and scheme and plan, wish things were different, imagine what the end result will look like before we’ve actually done the work, and compare ourselves to others.

Unlearning those habits is a big task. Being aware is a much easier first step.

Here are 5 lessons that minimalism has taught me about “enough”.

1. “I have enough. I do enough. I am enough.”

There is so much that needs changing in the world, and of course I want to do as much as I can to help make it happen… but I can only do so much. I used to lament about how I should be doing more, but I’ve realised that this made me stressed and ultimately more unproductive – I was almost frozen with fear and doubt.

I can’t do everything, but I can do something… and that is a whole lot better than nothing. That is a great place to start.

Whatever I do, I am content that at this moment, it is enough. When I was worked up about not being able to do everything, even one extra thing seemed like a huge burden. I’ve noticed that when I feel more relaxed that what I do is enough, I start to notice these things as opportunities to do just a little bit more.

2. Comparisonitis is a waste of energy.

I love using social media as a way of spreading my message, and sharing the messages of others. But I’m also aware that it can be a slippery slope towards getting comparisonitis… which is where we start to think we aren’t enough. We start to feel bad, and think about what we can do or buy to make ourselves better, rather than accepting that we are the way we are.

Remember, the images and stories we share on social media are (usually) a curated snapshot of the best or most interesting things in our lives. When all these images are put together, the feeds we see can be overwhelming. Being exposed to a constant stream of how much fun everyone else is having (which isn’t so much the reality as the perception) can negatively impact our feeling of self-worth.

I try to follow only people I find inspiring, who keep things (mostly) positive and have a practical focus. I keep the aspirational lifestyle stuff to a minimum. I also avoid checking social media when I’m feeling grumpy or stressed. It helps keep comparisonitis to a minimum.

3. You don’t need likes, follows or shares to be complete.

It’s great when other people like and comment on our feeds – it’s confirmation that we’ve touched someone else with our thoughts or images. Who doesn’t enjoy those shared connections? But chasing approval shouldn’t be the focus or the why. There’s enjoyment and satisfaction to be found, regardless of the approval of others, in the process of writing, creating and sharing.

Personal satisfaction keeps us going when the things we share maybe don’t have the responses we’d like. Worrying about winning the approval of people you don’t even know is a distraction.

Appreciate the likes and comments and shared connections that you do have, and be thankful for them, because behind the likes and emojis are real people who genuinely care about what you say.

4. Do what feels right.

This is as much about gut instinct and intuition as it is about figuring things out on a completely practical level. Just because someone else does things a different way, that doesn’t mean that’s what is best for you. For example, I’ve read articles that have told me that the ideal blog post is 500 – 700 words. I don’t think I’ve ever managed to squeeze what I want to say in so few words! And guess what – people still read what I write!

For me, that was less than enough. I am comfortable with a little more. Another example: I cannot fit my entire possessions in a suitcase, and I have more than 100 things. But I don’t feel that I am tripping over things I don’t need, so I am not chasing less. I am happy knowing that for me, this is enough. It is not a competition.

5. Don’t let feelings of less than enough hold you back.

Our own journeys and our own stories are just as important as anybody else’s. When I first started contemplating blogging in 2012, I nearly didn’t start because I saw Beth Terry’s blog and thought: well, she’s already covered everything so well, what more do I have to offer?

Later (once I’d started blogging, but still in the early days) I began embracing minimalism, and I wasn’t sure whether I should write about that because people like Joshua Becker already do an amazing job.

But then I wondered: maybe there’s a place for me, too?

Maybe I don’t know everything about living plastic-free, and maybe I have too much stuff to be a minimalist, but I still have something to add to the conversation. It’s not about being the best.

If I’d worried about not being the best, I’d never have started, and I’d have missed out on so many great experiences, lessons and connections.

Minimalism is about far more than simply getting rid of a bunch of stuff: it’s a whole new way of thinking. I’m not perfect at any of these, and I still slip up, but being more aware of finding “enough” within myself has made me more positive, boosted my productivity and increased my happiness.

I never realized when I first decided that I had too many possessions that the journey I was about to embark on would be so rewarding, and have such an impact on my life. But it has, and I’m grateful.

Now I’d love to hear from you! What are your thoughts on the idea of being “enough”? Do you associate minimalism with the idea of being enough, or do you focus on the idea of having enough? Do you focus on another idea entirely? Where do you sit on the positivity-and-acceptance-of-yourself scale? Do you focus on the successes you’ve had, and the satisfaction that you get from just doing? Do you get bogged down with comparing yourself to others, or wishing things were different? How do you deal with the knowledge that there’s always more to be done? Have you any experience of using mindfulness techniques, and have they helped in your journey? I really want to hear your thoughts so please leave me a comment below!

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]

6 Things Minimalism Taught Me About Tidying

35 Comments/in Decluttering, Simple Living/by Lindsay (Treading My Own Path)

I’m going to come right out and tell you now, I am not naturally a tidy person. I like things to be tidy, but I am less keen to actually tidy them away. What I’ve come to realise is that being in a constant state of not-wanting-to-tidy-but-wanting-it-to-be-tidy means I spent more time thinking about tidying than actually tidying, and if I just went ahead and did the tidying in the first place I’d have far more energy and drive for the things that were important to me. Consequently, I began to embrace the idea of tidying.

These realisations don’t mean that suddenly I learned to love to tidy. Not at all. I would still rather spend the minimum amount of time tidying, but I now accept that it needs to be done, and I’m happier when my home is tidy. In my quest to figure out how to tidy less, the ideas of minimalism, of simplifying, and of letting go really clicked with me. After all, everything we own is something else to look for, find, move, clean, put away, maintain, worry about and probably at some stage, get frustrated with. Less stuff means less of all these things… and more time for getting on with living life.

Decluttering has definitely made my home tidier. The less you have, the less there is to tidy – there’s no arguing with that. But whilst decluttering has made a big difference, my home didn’t transform miraculously into one which no longer needs tidying. I wanted to believe that it would happen, but of course, it didn’t. Decluttering is not the whole story. However, it has taught me a lot about tidying, and made me realise some truths that I probably wouldn’t have figured out if I hadn’t started down the minimalist path.

More or better storage is not the answer to a tidy house

I used to think more storage was the answer, but in reality it was a way for me to hide my clutter out of sight. At first glance my home might look tidy, but inside most of the cupboards and storage boxes it was chaos. The more storage I had, the harder it was for me to remember where anything was, and the longer it took to search.

It’s not just cupboards and storage that we use for storing our stuff, it is whole rooms. Several years ago my husband and I started noticing that our small one-bedroom flat was getting very full. We didn’t have any space for extra storage, so we considered doing what everyone else does – move to a bigger place with an extra room.

But when we thought about it, we realised that we would be paying extra rent for a bigger home (and going through the pain of moving) just so we could store a bunch of things that we probably didn’t even need. We started to get rid of those things that we didn’t need instead… and we got rid of our storage too. That freed up space, and rather than costing us money (in rent), we made money by finding good homes for the things we no longer needed.

We let our spaces dictate to us how much stuff we have. If we have a big shed, or plenty of kitchen cupboards, or a spare room, we let ourselves fill them. More storage means more space to put stuff, and encourages us to accumulate more – and that means more tidying. We don’t need more storage. We need less stuff.

Better organisation isn’t the answer to a tidy home, either

I will say this first: everything you own needs a place. How can you tidy it away if you don’t know where that place is? Beyond that, there’s no need to over-complicate things. There’s no need for complex systems, or boxes with labels and dividers and subdividers and headings, or neat stacks of things balanced precariously one on top of the other. All that means is extra work, and extra clutter… and more reason not to put something away properly. One moment of “I-can’t-be-bothered-I’ll-do-it-properly-later” shortcut-taking and the whole system crumbles.

If you live with other people, this is even more important. The more complicated your systems are means the less likely anyone else will be to follow them.

When it comes to organising stuff, simplest is best.

Someone has to do the work

Houses don’t tidy themselves. This took me a long time to figure out. I would often wonder how other people managed to keep their houses clean and tidy. I thought there must be a secret, and if I could just discover it for myself, my home would be miraculously clean. The truth is of course, there is no secret. They simply do the work. If I want my home to be clean, I have to clean it.

There’s an interesting lesson there, too. If I want my home to be clean, I’m the one who has to clean it. I can’t just nag my husband to clean it for me. Having tried (and failed) on numerous occasions (and yes, I do still try occasionally) I have realised that if I’m the one who wants the tidy home, I am the one who has to do the work.

Everyone has a mess threshold: the point at which the mess becomes unbearable and they have to do something about it. I consider mine to be fairly high – I can tolerate quite a bit of mess before it annoys me. Frustratingly, my husband’s threshold is even higher. Consequently, when I think it’s messy and needs tidying, he is still oblivious… and of course if he doesn’t think it needs doing, he won’t join in (or he will, but very reluctantly and after much nagging).

If I want to maintain the peace, I either need to raise my tolerance levels or accept I need to do the work myself. (Note to husband – I’m still trying to come to terms with this.)

The cleaning will never be done

When I first realised this, it was something of a shock to me. The cleaning will never be finished. There is no “once-and-for-all” with cleaning. I can clean until the place is spotless, and everything gleams, but soon enough everything is dirty and dusty and needs to be re-cleaned. The dishes will need doing. The clothes will need washing and putting away.

Rather than save up all the cleaning until it becomes a monstrous job, and resenting how much time it takes up, I’ve realised that it’s best to accept that there will always be cleaning, and do a little every day. Do the dishes when they’re dirty straight away, and put them away. Do a load of laundry once the basket is full, and put it away. It doesn’t seem so much of a chore this way.

I’m not perfect, not at all, but when I get lazy and let a few loads of laundry build up or the dishes accumulate in the sink, it’s always far more onorous than little and often. Slowly slowly, the lesson is being learned.

A tidy home is all about mindfulness

If you have a messy home you’re probably like me: walk in the front door, drop shoes at the doorway, throw coat over a chair, and drop on the sofa after throwing bag on the floor. Whether my keys go in the bag, or on the sofa (probably falling behind the cushions) or remain in my coat pocket, or get left on the side seems to happen at random. Yet it causes panic and stress the next morning when I cannot remember where they are but realise I cannot escape the house without them. This is the opposite of mindfulness: it’s mindlessness, literally!

What if, instead of the above, I came home, left my shoes at the entrance and then walked to the wardrobe and hung my coat and put my bag away (ensuring the keys are in there)? Really, it takes me a couple of extra seconds at the time, but it saves me having to go through the whole process of looking for where I’ve left things and putting them away later, plus it decreases the clutter immediately.

It shouldn’t be that hard, should it? It’s something I’m working on, slowly. Rather than putting things down to deal with later, thinking about putting them in their final place the first time. I have to say, the less you own, the easier this becomes!

Habits take time

If I know one thing about habits, it’s that they take time to adopt. You have to work at them, and if you practice every day you’ll get better faster. You have to do things consciously until they become unconscious.

Tidying is a habit. As someone who is messy and doesn’t naturally tidy, learning to become a tidy person has taken time. Is taking time! It’s not a case of tidying the whole house and thinking – right, I’m never letting it get messy again! (Has anyone else done that? I used to cycle between this and messiness-to-the-point-of-despair, until I realised there had to be another way.) I have no idea what made me think that I could go from messy person to tidy person following one afternoon of cleaning, but I constantly did!

Realising that I needed to be more mindful and tackle things as they happened was the first step, the next step is making them habits that I do without thinking. I’m not there yet, but I’m getting better.

Now I’d love to hear from you! Has minimalism (or decluttering, or simplifying) taught you any lessons about tidying? What tips do you have for keeping clutter at bay? What habits you find most useful? What area of your home do you find hardest to keep clutter-free, and what is the easiest? Are you naturally a tidy person, or are you naturally messy? If you’re messy, have you come to terms with your messiness or do you long to be tidy? If you’re naturally tidy, please give some insights into how you do it! I love hearing your thoughts so please leave me a comment below!

[leadpages_leadbox leadbox_id=1429a0746639c5] [/leadpages_leadbox]