Simplicity, Minimalism, and Escaping in a Book

I saw it in a documentary first. Minimalism. These two guys talk about the trappings of a busy life and walk around in misty scenes with acoustic guitar music in the background. I feel my soul yearn for the, whatever the documentary is trying to sell me on. It speaks to me.

And then come the tiny house programs. I've toured a few. Some make me roll my eyes. Who wants a automated bookshelf? Nothing simple about that, sorry.

Life happens. Once upon a time I considered writing a blog called "Failing Minimalism." Because as much as I embrace the concepts, life manages to hijack my plans. Ask my daughter how many black cardigans I own. She'll tell you too many.

And then I go and find another one.

But I am pretty good about getting rid of stuff I don't like. I just like to keep several versions of what I do like.

Coffee mugs are another weakness of mine. I am currently banned from acquiring more. So my daughter just brings them to me so her dad can't find much to say. (Ask me about my newest Snoopy mug.) I just love coffee. And I love mugs.

I'm not giving up my mugs. Sorry, minimalism guys.

But the tenants of minimalism still pull on me. I guess you could say I have learned to focus more on mental minimalism. Which means, I try my best to focus on what is most important. I'm lucky to have a couple of close friends who are as dedicated to the idea as I am.

Many years ago I found myself drowning in friendships that may as well have taken place in the girls' locker room in middle school. Drama, innuendo, misunderstandings, you name it. I don't deal with nonsense any longer. And my life is infinitely better for it.

As much as I love to write, I love to read. Reading is another form of mental minimalism for me. Life is hard. There are times I want to get away for a little while. I may not live in under three hundred square feet. I might have a service for twelve in my kitchen cabinets.

But when life gets too heavy I like to give my brain a mini-vacation in the form of a really good book. It helps me sort out the harder stuff when I come back to reality, too.

And you know what? I don't believe any blue ribbons will be awarded in the afterlife for excessive worrying or obsessing over the things we cannot control. I also don't think there's some extra special credit given for shouldering a heavier mental load. It's okay to let go for a while. It's okay to sink down into a nice, cozy story and get away for a little while.

And it's okay to have three dozen coffee mugs hanging around, too.