We’re in a new city, a blank slate for us, and we’re allowed to reimagine our lives. That’s a scary thing, because as humans we cling to the familiar, find comfort in routines and in what we’re used to. We can handle change, but usually in smaller bits. Drastic changes, at the scale of everything we know, are difficult to handle.

It’s also a wonderful thing, because a fresh start means you have nothing tying you down, nothing stopping you from creating the life you want.

It’s painful, in that we left behind the people we love the most. It was like tearing off a limb, except that you can live without a limb … living without these loved ones isn’t so easy. I don’t recommend it to anyone else, but I also know that we will grow as people because of this experience, and become stronger for it.

We’ve gone car-free, which is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. It’s almost impossible to do on Guam, for many reasons, though we did manage to go car-lite while we were there. Today, we walk and take transit everywhere, and it’s easy. We plan to get bikes soon.

We purposely moved to a spot that’s near everything we need: groceries, a library, bookstores, restaurants, hardware store, bakeries, lovely parks, buses and trains. We could have lived cheaper or nicer if we were further away from everything, but we chose to be in a denser area, more walkable.

We are buying most of what we eat at farmer’s markets and in bulk bins, to reduce packaging and processed foods, both better for our health and the environment. We’re still working on this, but already it’s been a dramatic improvement.

We run in parks, sprint up hills, walk everywhere, eat fairly healthy, do bodyweight exercises whenever and wherever we feel like it, play in grass fields. We’re getting healthier and fitter than ever before, and we love it.

We have very little. And that’s perfect.

It’s a fresh start. We’ve only begun to imagine the possibilities. It’s not home yet, but we’re going to make it the home we create.

Advertisers have studied the mechanisms of human desire, and have perfected the craft of making us want things. Children watching a cartoon, for example, will eat more snacks if there are ads for food during the cartoon (it doesn’t matter what kind of food), as opposed to ads for other products. People who see the iPad can’t control their desire to buy one, because they’re so cool! Cars, houses, clothes, gadgets, food, travel, you name it, we have been trained to want them by advertising.

How does a human being, or a society for that matter, fight such desires? It’s pretty damn hard. Try walking through an Apple store, or walking by the food court with its smells of fresh pizzas or cinnamon buns, or watching television, without desiring. Some people can control themselves, or have trained themselves to associate these things with negative thoughts (fattening, greasy, plastic, superficial, etc.), but most of us aren’t that disciplined.

The answer is that, just as the desires have been manufactured carefully and with much effort, we must manufacture content. In ourselves, and in society.

How would we do that? I’d start by removing yourself from places where advertising is so pervasive: TV, magazines, malls. Find ad-free content, or at least minimal advertising: public radio, or ad-less blogs, etc. Find ways to spend your time without having to go to the mall. Avoid shopping websites. But even beyond that, I think we can reach others to show them how to be content.

Manufacturing content means developing a strong, consistent message … something along the lines of “You already have enough”. Or better — I can’t say I have the answers here. We would want to reach people who are about to give in to their desires, perhaps on television or in the malls or on the Internet. We’d need a campaign that would drive this message home, and educate people about the dangers of manufactured desire, and show people how to find contentedness.

Imagine a big white billboard in Times Square with the simple message: “You already have enough.”

Imagine that we bought ads on Amazon, that appeared before people bought something: “You don’t need that, my friend.” OK, so Amazon would never allow an ad like that on their site, but you get the idea.

Imagine that credit cards came with the message “You don’t want debt” printed on them.

Imagine an iPhone operating system that detected when you’re about to go shopping on a website, and told you, “Be content with what you have. Let go of desire.”

Imagine if McDonald’s drive-thrus were lined with billboards that read, “Don’t be a glutton. Eat less, eat sustainably. Don’t supersize, simplify.”

Imagine if children were taught not that they need to go buy the latest Disney toys, or video game system, but to enjoy nature, to live life simply and fully.

Contentedness comes naturally, in the absence of manufactured desire. But getting back to that natural state might take some work.

With apologies to Noam Chomsky.

They want a better life, better clothes, a better car, a better job, a better place to live. And I understand this, because I’ve been there, most of my life.

It wasn’t until I learned to find contentedness, slowly, that I was actually able to improve my life:

• By realizing that spending time with my wife, my kids, and myself was all I needed, I no longer needed entertainment or shopping. I spent less, and got out of debt.
• By learning to be content with food I made myself, I stopped needing to eat out all the time (although I still do on a semi-regular basis). I lost weight.
• By learning to explore and be amazed by all that was around me, I stopped needing to drive so much, and now am ready to ditch my car. I contribute less to global warming, and am getting pretty fit from all the walking and biking.
• Most of all, I stopped the endless cycle of wanting more, of wanting better, and realized I already had everything. I’m so much happier now.

Finding contentment isn’t something that usually happens overnight, but rather comes in small doses. Some things you can do today to learn to find that contentedness:

• Look around you right now, or perhaps when you’re sitting at home. Realize that everything around you is all you need for happiness. What do you need to be happy? Food, shelter, clothing, other people, something meaningful to do, and a mindset of contentedness.
• Want something meaningful to do? You don’t need to change jobs — just help others, in any way you can. Help co-workers succeed. Be there for friends when they need you. Spend time with loved ones and be encouraging. Volunteer to help the needy. Improve your community in small ways.
• Need others in your life? Find a neighbor, and make a friend. Volunteer and be friendly. Hang out with co-workers. Be considerate, friendly, positive, in all human transactions.
• Start counting your blessings — all the things that you have to be grateful for.
• When you find yourself thinking about what you want, start appreciating what you have, every day.
• Be more mindful in everything you do – eating, showering, walking, working, washing dishes, talking, writing, drinking water.

I didn’t have a specific destination in mind, but wanted to walk a bit before finding a quiet place to write. So I walked, out of the town where I live and along the tropical, white-sand coastline, to the next town over.

As others drove cocooned in their cars, I walked, and emitted nothing but my breath.

As others spent their lunch hour pounding down fat-laden burgers and greasy fries or some other cheesy fried piled-high dish, I walked, and burned calories.

As others rushed and stressed, I walked, and took my time.

As others sat at their computers, I walked, and got my blood flowing.

As others held power business meetings and made deals, I walked, and had time to think.

As others were productive and got tasks done, I walked and got nothing done, and cleared my head.

As others had the comfort of shelter and air-conditioning, I walked and worked up a light sweat and was buffeted by the wind.

As a white gull floated serenely above a calm bay, I walked, and watched, and loved it.

I walked for an hour, then wrote and read, and then walked for another hour to get back home, tired but happy.

I can’t walk this much every day, but I walk as much as I can, because you need nothing to walk, you spend nothing, you consume nothing, you emit nothing.

And yet you have everything.

less

“The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less.” - Socrates

In that one little line, Socrates summed up one of the major problems with our modern society, and offered a simple solution.

Pretty brilliant, I’d say.

In fact, he negated the need for me to write more, but stubborn as I am, I will proceed. I’d like to talk about this capacity to enjoy less.

Is it difficult to enjoy less? No, not really, but it takes a change in mindset, which as with many such changes takes time and adaptation.

If you enjoy chocolate ice cream, as I do, when confronted with a tub of it would you also enjoy eating as much of the tub as possible? I know that’s what many of us do when faced with delicious food.

But what if you learned to enjoy just a few bites of the ice cream? And with each bite, savor the flavor, the coldness, the creaminess, the chocolatiness. (Yes, that’s a word, spell-checker – I made it up.)

If you love clothes, instead of buying more and more each weekend, can you learn to cull your wardrobe into a few quality, beautiful pieces that you can wear often, and enjoy more?

The same applies with anything we love … including online reading and communicating (email, Twitter, Facebook, forums). We often seem obsessed with more of it. But instead, consider reading just the quality stuff, and if a blog or Twitter feed doesn’t deliver quality consistently, consider dropping it.

Learn to love less television, movies, chatter, spending, shopping, eating out, junk food, technology, consumption, productivity. You get the idea.

When you focus on enjoying less, you focus on full enjoyment. You learn to be content with little, and when you do that, a life of happiness is at your disposal. The only limit to your happiness, then, is how much you can learn to enjoy less.

If instead we could find completeness, find happiness, find contentedness … advertising wouldn’t work. We’d say, “Thanks, but pass.”

And here’s the thing, of course (you knew this was coming): you already have all that.

You just need to realize it, and internalize it.

You have everything you need for happiness, right now. The typical desires for more money, a nicer house and car, nicer clothes and gadgets, a big-screen TV, a super-successful career or business, etc. … none of that will get you happiness.

Happiness is simple pleasures, is spending time doing what you love and spending time with those you love. Happiness is realizing the world around us, no matter where we are, is a miracle, is beautiful and filled with sources of joy.

Do you have eyes? Then you have the tools to enjoy the sky, the water, greenery, people — all miracles, all wonderful. Do you have ears? You have the tools to enjoy music, and laughter, and conversation. Do you have taste buds? You are blessed with a symphony of wonders, in berries and chocolate and popcorn and pure water and mint and chocolate chip cookies and spicy Thai food.

These are the tools for happiness. Use them, and realize you are blessed beyond belief.

Live life by appreciating every moment as a miracle, and you’ll want for nothing. Appreciate the people around you, for the crazy complicated uniqueness they are, and you’ll need no further entertainment.

You have it all. So when someone offers more, you can now say, “Thanks, but pass.”

Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are.
When you realize there is nothing lacking,
the whole world belongs to you.
- Lao Tzu

But the path to becoming a minimalist doesn’t have to be long and arduous. It’s fairly simple, actually.

You just do and buy less.

It’s a switch that you can flip, in an instant: one moment you’re a resource-hogging, polluting, consumerist materialist capitalist swine (no offense), and the next, you’re a minimalist.

It just takes the decision to live with less, and to be content with where you are and what you have and who you are.

You can do this, right now.

Will all the stuff in your life instantly disappear? No, of course not – you’ll still need to chuck all your stuff. You’ll need to get out of all your commitments, and start simplifying your schedule and to-do list.

That’ll all take time and effort, I concede. And there’s more, that’ll take time: changing your buying habits, changing your impulses, gradually letting go of attachments, getting used to having less.

But that all comes later. That comes with the territory.

For now, you can just flip the switch: start buying less (right now), start doing less (right now), slow down, and find contentment. Right now, right here. Be happy with what you have, with your life, with where you are. Stop focusing on what you don’t have, because godblessit, you have way more than most of the world — even if you gave up your big car, big home, tons of food, and most of your possessions. You have the world, and you need to learn to love it.

It takes an instant. It’s harder than hell, but it can happen right now.

• We want to get organized, we’ll buy containers or folders or closet organizers.
• We want to lose weight, we’ll buy diet food or an exercise machine or a gym membership.
• We want to help the environment, we buy green products.
• To get out of debt, we’ll hire a financial planner or new financial software.
• We want to save gas, we buy a gas-efficient car (perhaps a hybrid).
• We want to start new hobby, we’ll buy new materials or equipment.
• We want to do almost anything, we’ll buy new clothes for it (workout clothes, work clothes, yoga clothes, dressy clothes, hip clothes)
• We want to make our house look better, we’ll buy new furniture or decorations.
• We want to be cooler, we’ll buy new gadgets. Or cool T-shirts.
• We want to improve our lives, we buy new books on different topics.

But buying is not the solution. Or at least, it rarely rarely is.

Instead, buy less. Stop yourself before going out to buy things. See what you already have that you can use. See if someone else has it that you can borrow or trade or barter for. See if you can solve the problem without anything new.

• To help the environment, consume less. Live simply.
• To lose weight, eat less. Eat clean.
• To get in great shape, try a minimalist workout by just walking or running or swimming or doing bodyweight exercises.
• To get out of debt, spend less, save money, pay off debts.
• To make your house look better, declutter.
• To save gas, drive less.
• To get organized, declutter.
• To improve your life, read free stuff online, or just start making small changes over time.

—

Ironically, you might have noticed I’m selling an ebook on minimalism: The Simple Guide to Living a Minimalist Life. It’s $9.95, it’s Uncopyrighted, and it’s DRM-free.

You do not need to buy this ebook in order to live a more minimalist life. This blog will offer free ideas, as do other blogs, and you can do it on your own simply by reducing what you have and what you do down to the essential.

However, I do offer this ebook as a way to save you some time in doing a lot of research, and I hope if you do buy it, you’ll find it useful. I charge money for it to 1) raise money for a good cause and 2) help pay for my living expenses.

One of the hardest things about becoming minimalist, for most people, is letting go of possessions.

It’s tough, I won’t lie.

Letting go can be an amazing release, and when you do, you’ll feel liberated and light. But allowing yourself to let go is an emotional thing, and as with anything emotional, it’s not always simple.

• We have memories and good emotions associated with the possessions;
• We spent money on the items, which meant we missed other opportunities to spend that money, and we hate thinking of the missed opportunities;
• We fear we might have an occasion to use the clothes in the future, or might lose 10 lbs. and fit the clothes in the future;
• We fear an uncertain future, when we might need the possessions because we don’t have the money to buy more;
• And, in the present, we enjoy having the feeling of “plenty”.

1. Focus on the present. Sure, we might have feelings about the past, and worry about missed opportunities in the past, but those are gone. If we focus on the present — enjoying this time, without the need for all these possessions, we can let go of the past. Be happy now, not tied to memories or missed opportunities of the past. If we get stuck in the past, we are missing the opportunities of the present.

And fears of an uncertain future can also be banished if we focus on the present. The future hasn’t arrived yet — the present has. We have no idea what the future will bring, so worrying about it is a waste of time. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Instead, focus on living now, in the present. And when you do that, you realize you don’t need any of these possessions. All you need is to make the most of this moment, right now.

2. Focus on quality over quantity. Sure, it might feel good to have a lot, to have that feeling of “plenty”. But if instead we focus on quality, and not quantity, we can get an even better pleasure. Having a few good things is so much better than having a lot of things. Enjoying small pleasures, now, is better than the fleeting and unsatisfying feeling that possessions give us.

So focus on the present, and let the past and future fade away. Focus on quality over quantity. And in doing so, banish our emotional ties to possessions, so that we can let them go.

It’s not as easy as it sounds, I know. But it can be done, and when you do it, you’ll feel amazing.