Wearing the same clothes every day might seem weird to your friends and co-workers. Having no car might make you seem like an oddball. Not having a smartphone mike make you uncool. Living in a small home or an RV might make everyone think you’re poor or crazy. Eating vegan food might make the meat eaters in your life groan or roll their eyes.

But who are we living for? I am all for living to help other people, but when we live our lives to the expectations of other people, we end up living lives we don’t want. And what do we get when we live up to the expectations of all these other people? They really don’t care — they just don’t like things different because they are uncomfortable with change. Staying the same as everyone else doesn’t make everyone else happier — it just doesn’t force them to reflect on their lives.

Where do these expectations come from, anyway? Other people didn’t just make them up — they are customs built up over the years, often very consciously by corporations trying to get us into expensive buying habits. For example, we have so many clothes, gadgets and other possessions because ads have sold us on the idea that we need clothing to look stylish, to be successful, to feel like a woman, to be as good as the people on TV. It wasn’t always this way, and it’s up to us to decide whether we want it to be that way from now on.

I’m not saying we should go live in the woods and ignore society (though that’s not a bad option). I live in society, and yet no one minds me wearing the same clothes all the time. People don’t go wild with anger when they hear that I’m not buying Christmas presents. I might get a raised eyebrow when they find out I don’t have cable TV or a car, and I might have to explain myself when they hear I’m a vegan, but no one gets mad at me and they go on with their lives. I sure go on with mine.

The way everyone else does things isn’t working. People aren’t happy with a life filled with possessions. Driving cars all the time adds to stress, makes people unhealthier, pollutes. People get unhealthy with their standard American diet. Just because everyone else thinks this is the way it should be done, doesn’t mean it’s the best way. Go against the stream — the other fish don’t know where they’re going either!

When it comes to others, be helpful, compassionate, grateful. But don’t live up to their expectations. You’ll be freed of the shackles of meaningless customs, so that you can live as you want.

I’m not crying out in ecstatic pleasure, or streaming tears of joy, but I am very happy. It’s not a peak of happiness, but a plateau of happiness that can go on for as long as I live.

This is a happiness I wish on everyone alive. The question then is, what are the factors that contribute to my happiness?

1. A huge house
2. Massive wealth
3. Fancy clothes
4. A nice car
5. A powerful job
6. Cable TV

1. Time
2. Loving relationships
3. Meaningful work
4. Health
5. Books
6. Enough

I don’t like the way I look, so I try to improve myself. I don’t like my house, so I work to get a better one. I want everyone around me to improve too, so I push them to change, and get frustrated when they won’t.

This striving never ends. When we are unsatisfied with how things are, including ourselves, we make changes, but then what? We are still unsatisfied, because the root cause of this problem isn’t the things around us (or how we look, etc.), but our expectations. We expect things to be different.

This means we are always unhappy in some way. Things don’t meet our expectations. We try to correct this problem by changing the world around us, trying to get others to change, trying to change ourselves. Our compulsion to spend, to consume, to buy more stuff … it’s rooted in this as well. And so minimalism is an attempt to fix the compulsion, but that can really only be done once we address the root problem: our expectations.

Sit for a minute and look at the things around you. Are you happy with them, or would you like things to change? Think about what you do each day, and ask if you’re happy with your daily life, or if you’d like change. Think about the people in your life, and ask if you’re happy with them, or if you’d like them to change. Think about yourself, and see if there are things you’re dissatisfied with, if you’d like to change yourself.

Now, for each thing you think needs change, try sitting for a minute and see if you can simply accept each one, as they are right now. See if you can accept each person in your life for who they are, exactly as they are. See if you can accept your body for what it is, without the need for change. It takes practice, so if you aren’t good at it at first (and I’m still not a master at it myself), practice. It’s an enlightening process, to be sure.

This doesn’t mean we’ll never change anything. We can develop healthy habits and make our bodies healthier over time, but we can do that while also being happy with who we already are. Change is inevitable, but it doesn’t necessarily require that we not accept things as they are, that we not be happy with things as they already are.

Once we become happy with things, people, and ourselves … as they are … we can become whole, without the need to spend money to fill a hole in our lives. Then minimalism becomes a possibility, because once we are OK with things as they are, we can simply strip away the unnecessary, and be content with little.

Those who can walk away from the negotiation — legitimately walk away, not just make a show of it — are in the strongest position. Those who are convinced they need to make the deal are in the weakest position.

This is true of negotiating when you’re buying a car, closing the sale of your new home, haggling in a foreign flea market, or trying to get a raise.

It’s also true of anything in life.

Know that there’s almost nothing you can’t walk away from.

If you are convinced you need a nice house with a walk-in closet and hardwood floors and a huge kitchen, you now have a weakness. You will give away precious life hours and savings to get it. Someone else who knows that those things aren’t absolutely necessary can walk away, and not need to spend so much money (and thus work hours) on that kind of house.

If you are convinced that you need Stabucks grande lattes every day, or an iPhone or iPad, or an SUV or Cooper Mini or BMW … you are in the weak position, because you can’t give it up. Someone else might know that those aren’t essential to happiness, and can walk away.

If you know that the man who is treating you badly (but who you just know will change someday, because, you know, he loves you) isn’t necessary for you to be happy, you can walk away. If you know that you can be happy alone, and that you need no one to make you happy, you can walk away.

If you know that there’s almost nothing you can’t walk away from, you can save yourself tons of money. Years of time. Mountains of headaches and heartaches. Boatloads of suffering.

You don’t need to walk away from everything, but you should know that you can. And when the cost of the deal is too great, too dear … walk away.

And while I see the attraction of these devices — I’ve been tempted myself many times — I also know that they are some of the best marketing devices ever.

Yes, they are useful. Thousands of books on one tiny reading device? Amazing, in all sincerity. I’m all for something that encourages reading and lightness at once. They can also be used for work, email, social networking, showing off family photos, watching films, listening to uplifting music, teaching kids math and reading, exploring new worlds … these are very very useful devices, I’ll admit.

But once you get one, what’s the first thing you do? You go to buy some content. Because at their heart, these are content devices, and they come loaded with a little content but not nearly enough to last a day. So you buy books, and this is Amazon’s main goal with the Kindle, and it is wildly successful. The Kindle might cost you $79 (or a bit more), but you’ll spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars on books.

And books are just the start of the buying. If you have an iPad, you’ll buy movies and TV shows and music along with the books. The Kindle Fire will get you to buy these media too. If you have an iPhone or iPod, the music is a must, but other media are also bought in bushels. Android and Nook devices are no different.

Then there are apps. Apple has sold millions of apps from the app store, which means if you have one of their devices, you are likely to buy a bunch as soon as you get your new toy.

So if someone has given you a beautiful new device, they’ve given you a gift that will cost you probably thousands of dollars, not including the cost of connecting the device (which could be just as much money if you need a data plan).

I am not disparaging anyone who has bought or received these devices. They are useful and attractive. But let’s acknowledge their true purpose. With this awareness, we can use our technology with consciousness.

We have logos or slogans or cute catchphrases on our clothing, and it shows people who we are. We have tattoos or piercings, baseball caps, accessories, smartphones, designer bags, Manolo Blahnik shoes … and these express to others who we are.

In our homes, what we have on our walls shows others who we are. What TV shows we watch, what books we read, what celebrities and blogs we follow. What brands we like on Facebook. This is our identity.

But what happens when you strip all this away? When you are left with plain clothing, a home that is empty and spare … how will you express yourself? What will you use to forge an identity? You could argue that your identity would now be called “Minimalist”, but let’s go beyond that label.

In spareness, we are confronted by a lack. It is a frightening thing if you aren’t accustomed to it. You must take a close look at that lack, and wonder, “What am I left with?”

When there is just you, and nothing else, you must look inside yourself. You have to ask who you are, and again, that can be scary. You start to question whether you are adequate as a person, and then you wonder where this sense of inadequacy comes from. You start to realize that there is nothing more possible than who you already are, that there isn’t anyone who is “more adequate” than you, but only people who are different. If you perceive them to be “better”, that’s only because you are measuring them up to a standard created by someone else. When you remove that arbitrary and meaningless standard, there is no “better”. There is only who you are.

There is an empty room, and you. And you are enough. You are all that’s needed in this room, you fill it with your light and the miracle of your being, and you now realize: the things you used to express yourself, those were just a crutch. You need none of it. You are enough.

In spareness, you find enough.

This is the buckshot approach. Buckshot spreads into many little pellets when it leaves the shotgun — most will miss the target, but that’s OK, because only some of the pellets need to hit. That’s fine for hunting, but for living, I’d recommend the rifle approach.

The rifle shoots a much more targeted bullet, with much more powerful impact. You aim at a specific target, and you don’t waste as much energy.

A friend who was going camping took a truckload of equipment and supplies, because he had no idea which equipment he’d need. A more experienced friend only needed a 9-lb. backpack, because experience told him what was necessary and what was extraneous. He was able to make a little count for much more than a whole truckload, because he knew how to target the important things.

Another friend who was launching his first online product spent hours and hours (months actually) putting a lot of effort into creating tons of bonuses, a really long sales page, a really massive product, all kinds of promotions and giveaways, and much more. He wasn’t sure what would be important, so he did everything possible, because he was afraid he wouldn’t do well if he missed something important. When I launch a product, I keep it simple, but try to make what little I do provide very valuable. I do very little to launch the product, because I’ve learned that doesn’t matter as much as creating a great product and having readers who trust me. I do less, but I know what matters, and focus on that.

Fear of missing something important causes us to use the buckshot approach, and do too much. Most of what we do will miss, but we console ourselves that something will hit the important target. The problem is, we don’t know what the target is, and using the buckshot approach means we’ll never get good at finding the target, nor good at aiming.

The rifle approach means you’ll be forced to figure out what’s important. You’ll be forced to get good at aiming, with practice.

This is minimalism.

In order to better prepare you, my lovely and good-hearted reader, for minimalism, it’s my duty to point out some of the downsides. Consider this post my due diligence.

Some downsides to minimalism:

• You get to know Craigslist, Goodwill and other charities all too well as you clean out your clutter.
• You have to figure out other things to do with yourself besides shopping and browsing shopping sites.
• If you travel lightly for a few weeks with only a small carry-on, customs officers might get suspicious — who travels with almost nothing, besides maybe a terrorist? My friends Corbett Barr and his wife Jessie recently had this experience going into Europe with a small bag each — officials didn’t believe they were really traveling for three weeks without luggage.
• People will tease you about which of your two shirts you’re wearing today. I don’t mind this — there are worse things to be teased about.
• If you are a well known minimalist and happen to shop at the Gap or the Apple store, you worry that people will see you and judge you for hypocrisy.
• If you give up your cable TV, you have to find other things to do. I like to read or exercise. Also, you aren’t aware of non-Internet pop culture — I had to Google Jwow recently (didn’t know who she was) and was shocked at how much I’ve apparently been missing.
• Family will harass you about not buying gifts. They will live. So will you.
• You don’t get as good a workout walking around with a light bag instead of one laden with lots of stuff. I put weight plates in my backpack if I want to compensate for this.
• People online will accuse you of being “trendy” because you’re a minimalist. People who aren’t online as much will wonder what the hell a minimalist is.
• Your one pair of jeans will go from being dark and dressy to faded, frayed, and more welcome in an Occupy camp than in nice restaurants.
• When family comes to visit, you’ll be confused as to why they have so much stuff with them, even if they’re just there to visit for a few hours.
• When you go to other people’s houses, you might start mentally fantasizing about getting rid of their stuff for them.
• People will ask you, almost non-stop, how you can be a minimalist with so many kids. If you don’t have any kids, they’ll roll your eyes and say, “Of course you’re a minimalist — you’re a bachelor!”
• People will always, always try to point out the hypocrisy of being a minimalist and something else about you — your articles are too long to be a minimalist! You have 25 books — that’s not minimalist! Etc.
• Others might feel threatened by you, because your minimalism will be seen as a criticism of their lifestyle. They will live.
• You will get weird looks when you turn down free “schwag” at sporting events, conferences, parties. Who doesn’t want a bunch of free promotional junk?
• People will give you pitying looks when they see you have a simple dumb phone, and can’t play Angry Birds or use Instagram on the train like they can.
• If you don’t have a car, people will think you’re poor, even if you are wealthier for not having the car. And healthier, and time rich.

People are finally pushing back against the incredible influence that corporations have on every aspect of our lives. People are finding a voice for the frustrations of being powerless against the corporations.

And that’s a good thing. Corporations have taken control of our economy, our jobs, our political system, our environment, but much more than that: they now tell us how to entertain ourselves, how to spend time with others, how to show love for friends and family, how to look good and feel good about ourselves, how to communicate, how to educate our kids, how to spend our spare time, how to be in public spaces together, how to create and enjoy music and art.

Every minute of our lives is now spent with products of a corporation, and we are never alone.

How can we find our non-corporate voices? How can we protest against this?

We can take a stand.

The minimalist might protest simply by not buying corporate products. Don’t eat at corporate restaurants, or buy corporate coffee, or buy corporate clothes. Don’t have logos on everything you own. Don’t watch corporate entertainment — make your own! Find non-corporate ways to spend time with people. Find non-corporate ways to celebrate Christmas. Find non-corporate music to listen to, or create your own.

It’s possible. We still have our humanity. We can still breathe, but first we must create some breathing room.

It’s incredible how much people rely on these things, actually, and have come to think they’re necessary.

But they’re not. Consider your grandparents — did they have these luxuries? Did they survive without them? Were they fairly happy without them?

Only after we’ve grown used to these things do we think they’re necessary, but that’s because we’ve bought into the marketing. These things are no longer luxuries — they’re required.

If our grandparents could live without them, and be happy, so can we.

Some things our grandparents lived without, that are really not necessary:

• microwave
• dishwasher
• SUV
• Luxury car
• food processor
• smart phone
• iPad or other tablet
• flat-screen TV
• refrigerators with ice makers (or perhaps refrigeration at all)
• air conditioning
• central heating
• dryers
• Roombas
• hair dryers
• workout machines
• Kindle
• toaster oven

That’s just a start.

I would argue that the computer is the one exception. It is incredibly empowering. The rest are less necessary.

I’m not arguing that you should never get any of these devices. I’m only offering a reminder that it’s not absolutely necessary, and most can be eliminated.