A Case for Minimalism

Jonny was my best friend growing up. He had the fun house in the neighborhood. You know, that one house in every neighborhood where everyone seems to congregate? He had a swing set, a trampoline, an Xbox, and a pool with a hot tub! Everyone loved going over to his house because it always seemed like a party. Jonny, of course, loved all the attention he received from his peers and it made him feel like he was popular. He took his popularity as a token of his importance in the world. The constant stream of visitors led him to believe that his value was derived from how often people asked to come over to his home. This went on for years, until we were juniors in high school. Then, the inevitable happened.

The Worst Basketball Game Ever

Our high school was really good at sports. Jonny and I were... let's just say we were not athletically inclined. But gosh dangit we were the most passionate fans you would ever meet. We went to nearly every sporting event at our school and we cheered louder than anyone else. After every big win, we would go back to Jonny's place and all the players and cheerleaders would come over to celebrate (his parents were really cool and basically let us take over his backyard during those years). Except for one night when we were juniors.

We were playing against our biggest rival just after the holiday break had ended, so it was probably around mid-January. I remember how badly we played in the first half, but we were making an epic comeback throughout the third quarter. Our defense finally decided to show up to the game, and our shooters caught fire. It was electric in the gym, and our student section was going nuts. I remember cheering so loudly that I almost passed out from the headache I was causing. Jonny was right next to me in our usual place on the second row—the first row was reserved for seniors. As the fourth quarter began, Jonny started to feel sick. He said he had eaten a burrito a few hours prior, and it didn't sit well. A few minutes later, just as we hit a big three-pointer to tie the game, Jonny barfed, puked, vomited. He 'sploded. Not just a little—A LOT. I'm talking rocket spew.

His vomit launched about seven or eight feet before it hit the ground, and it sprayed everybody in its path. The popular senior kids in front of us got soaked, as did our point guard standing near the sideline. It was like a Super Soaker on steroids. And that was when everything changed for Jonny.

Post-Game Party

Safe to say, there was no post-game party at Jonny's house that night. We actually won the game, but thanks to Jonny's barf scene, no one wanted to be seen at his house that night. That is when things started to click in Jonny's mind. People didn't value HIM. They valued his HOME. And it wasn't even his home, it was his parents. This led to some deeper problems of depression that I won't get into for the sake of time, but that day had a life-changing effect on Jonny and how he viewed the world.

The Result

After Jonny recovered from his sickness and the ensuing embarrassment, he started to view the world differently. He became dedicated to his studies; something he previously ignored. He started to attend a local church. He went on dates with nerdy girls, skinny girls, chubby girls, ethnic girls, etc. He started shopping at discount stores and donating his extra time to different causes. Essentially, he went on a deep dive excursion into experimenting in life. He tried some drugs (which he hated, thank goodness). He even opened up an account to begin trading stocks. Eventually, while we were in college he found his passion—minimalism.

That's a Passion?

I didn't understand minimalism at first. I thought it was just something used to describe a certain aspect of design, or something that a hippie would preach. You know, some stuff about saving the earth, and using less? But apparently it's a lot more than that. After a lot of experimentation, Jonny discovered that he was truly passionate about living with less in order to have more. After graduating from college and getting his first real job, Jonny moved into a small home. Like, really small. About the size of those Tiny Homes, but before it was cool. He still uses the most basic phones he can get, refuses to shop at wholesale stores due to their large quantities, and he only keeps enough clothing to keep him clean for a week or two. Anything else is just extra, which he donates to Goodwill and Savers. It's actually pretty inspiring. And it has rubbed off a bit on me as well.

What I've Changed

I'm not near as passionate about minimalism as Jonny is, but I have adopted a few things from him. For example, I donated all my old clothing to thrift shops that support low-income families. I don't need it anymore, and they could use the resources. I purchased a key organizer from PocketPro, because it allows me to keep all my keys in one place without needing a massive key ring. I started shopping at local shops instead of national stores, and I only purchase what I need. I stopped living life believing that more things would fill gaps in my life, and it has had a positive effect on me. These aren't huge changes, and I don't consider myself to be much of a hippie or a tree-hugger. I'm just being more conscious of what I use and how I spend my money. It's pseudo-minimalism, and it works for me. It might work for you too. Give it a try, and see how it goes.