This is the old-school computer expert lecture, and if you enjoy doing those kinds of things, that’s cool.

I actually don’t, and so I don’t do it.

What do I do instead? Here’s a simpler method:

• store files online (Google Docs or Zoho for documents, Picasa or Flickr for photos, code in github, etc.)
• keep working files in Dropbox (including my 1Password file, Notational Velocity notes, drafts, and more)

Using this method, I’ve never lost an important file.

There’s an off-chance I might lose a scrap of information, because I’m not as anal about backing up as others. However, I’ve also realized that my data isn’t as important as I once thought, and letting others worry about backing up my files (Google, Zoho, Yahoo, Dropbox, et al) means letting go of control and letting go of those worries.

Will I lose something someday? Sure, maybe. But will it be the end of the world? No. If it takes 20 minutes to recreate something, that’ll be less than the hours I would have spent cumulatively backing things up or buying hard drives and USB thumb drives and off-line storage. If I lose a dozen photos of thousands I’ve taken, it’s not a big deal.

I’ve let go of the need to obsess about every bit of data, and with it I’ve dropped the need to obsess about backups.

As a minimalist, what do you do for fun? That’s the only trouble I foresee should I decide to embrace the minimalist ideal.

This brings up a common myth about minimalism — that we have empty lives, and can’t do anything fun because we try to eschew consumerism and all the spending that entails.

The purpose of entertainment

Entertainment is usually meant to distract, to make us feel that our lives are exciting — distractions such as TV, movies, carnivals, going shopping, playing video games, drinking and partying. And while these each have other merits (a good film is a work of art), often they serve to distract us from work or other difficulties.

Unfortunately, this fun is only temporary, and often empty. And as soon as we’re off that temporary high, we must find a new high from entertainment, ad nauseum.

I believe if you find contentment, you don’t need entertainment. That’s not to say you’d never watch TV or good films or go to parties or theme parks … but you wouldn’t need them for entertainment. You wouldn’t go shopping to fill an empty space in your life, to fill the need of finding happiness, because you’re already content and don’t have that empty space or need.

Finding contentment is learning to appreciate what you already have, learning the concept of having enough, learning to enjoy the simple things. It isn’t an overnight thing, but as you become more conscious of it, you’ll find more contentment and need to be entertained less.

Minimalist fun

I’ve made space for what’s most important to me, by eliminating the unnecessary. That’s what minimalism is really about, at its core, not emptying your life.

What’s important to me: family, writing, reading, running. And so my fun is finding time for those four things.

Some examples of things I’ve done in the last week for fun:

• Had a small family get-together for my daughter’s birthday
• Went on a walking date with my wife, eating near the beach and walking to get coffee & watch a movie
• Ran three days a week with my sister
• Worked out with my nephew, doing full-body weight exercises
• Read with my kids
• Took short walks with my daughter
• Read a novel, magazine, online articles
• Had lunch with my mom & sister
• Helped my mom in her garden
• Wrote blog posts and some of my new book
• Rode my bike to meet a friend for coffee

Those are just a few examples, but you get the idea. They’re not everyone’s idea of fun, but I enjoy them.

What if we could break free from that?

What if we could become creators, participants, sharers, empowerers?

An awesome article about three guys who not only build bamboo bicycles, but show people how to make them themselves, really highlights how this can be done.

These guys are transforming people from passive consumers to creators, builders, knowledgeable users. That’s amazing.

How can you empower people? How can you turn people from consumers into makers? How can you help people from being passive users to knowledgeable ones?

Change the world — it’s waiting for you.

Yes: constraints force us to be creative.

Often, constraints, limitations, are seen as a negative, but to me they’re a feature. They might restrict freedom and force sacrifices, sure, but they also force us to choose. And to work within and around the constraints.

When we must work within limits, we have to figure out how to make those work. This forces us to think outside our normal mode of thinking, to think of new ways to make things work.

Consider:

• When we have a small home, we must find new ways of living within that small space, instead of being lazy and doing whatever we want with lots of space.
• When we must use fewer words, we must choose them wisely, instead of spilling them out carelessly.
• When we eat fewer calories, we must choose more nutritious and yet tasteful foods, to make them count.
• When we have less storage space, we must choose only the most important things, and make do with less.
• When we limit ourselves to four sentences per email, we must say the essential, creatively.

I could go on all day, but that would be contrary to my point. What constraints can you place on yourself, and how can you work creatively with them?

As I talked about before, having a ton of friends on social networks is a major pull on your attention, and results in superficial relationships anyway. I prefer deeper relationships when possible.

Facebook hasn’t worked well for me as a social network in the past. I loved connecting with close friends and family, and old friends from high school. But as I added friends without any criteria, it became too much — a stream of people leaving updates, sending me “gifts”, inviting me to all kinds of things, leaving things for me on my “wall”. I couldn’t stand it, and rarely checked Facebook. Twitter became my social space.

In the last month or two I’ve slowly been unfriending people on Facebook, a dozen or so at a time. It was a tedious process, so I did it in small chunks. But with more than 1,500 friends (at the peak), it would take all year to unfriend everyone.

So today, with the help of a reader on Twitter, I found a faster method: go to Account, then “Edit friends” and click the “X” next to people’s names. There was still an annoying popup confirmation dialog box, but with my mouse hovering over the “X”, and a finger on the Enter key, I could do it quickly.

It took me 36 minutes to delete more than 1,000 friends. My criteria: I only left actual, real-life friends and family, plus old friends from high school. I got down to 99.

Yes, I could have just deleted my account and started from scratch. But it would have taken me much more than 36 minutes to re-friend the 99 close friends, family & old high school friends again.

If you’re a reader or someone I know online, you didn’t make the cut. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It just means I had to find a more manageable way. I prefer communicating with you on Twitter, so feel free to @zen_habits me there if you want to send me a message. I prefer public messages over private DMs — it’s transparent and makes the most of the responses I type.

I really do love my readers. It’s just that Facebook wasn’t the way for me to connect with you.

Read more: How to Reclaim Your Attention

I want to gently say to them — and to my past self — “Stop making things so complicated!”

I’m not going to criticize how other people do things in this post, but rather talk about things I did wrong in the past.

The biggest problem came when starting a new endeavor — starting running, trying to get organized or productive, starting blogging, getting out of debt, even the act of simplifying.

I’d always make things so complicated — looking back on it, I either want to cringe or laugh. And yet, I know that life is a learning process, and those early mistakes helped me to get to where I am. Even now, I make tons of mistakes, learning as I go.

Example 1: I wanted to be more productive, so I learned GTD (Getting Things Done, an excellent book by David Allen). I bought tools that other GTDers recommended, set up a series of lists, tried out a couple dozen different software (and paper) approaches to lists. Every GTDer knows this problem. GTD, and many other productivity systems, can end up being complicated.

Today, my advice to my former self is: stop making it complicated. Productivity, such as I care about it today, is simple. You pick the most important thing you want to do today, clear distractions, and start on it. You don’t even need a list, though having a list for remembering what else needs to be done later is fine. Have one list, but don’t fiddle with it. Just pick one thing, and start working.

Example 2: When I wanted to get out of debt, I tried various financial software, I made spreadsheets, I made schedules for payments, I tracked everything, and so on. It was complicated, believe me.

Now I know it’s simple. First, stop the unnecessary spending (I know, easier said than done, but once you learn to recognize it and stop your impulse urges, it’s not complicated). Second, put everything you can to one debt at a time (first creating an emergency fund of at least $500), pay off that one debt, then pay off the next.

Example 3: When I started blogging in January 2007, I looked at dozens of different blogging platforms/software, themes, ad platforms, ebooks, articles on every possible blogging topic. This is natural, as I was just learning the field.

But today, I know it’s simple: you pick a topic, and write. Then hit publish. Share your stuff via Twitter or Facebook if you like, but don’t worry so much about that. Just write interesting and/or useful stuff, and people will find you eventually. Just write, and publish.

When you start something new, sure, there’s a learning process. But also realize that while the learning is good, the doing doesn’t have to be complicated at all. Find the simplest way to do things, and just start doing it. You’ll learn by doing.

A monk told Joshu, “I have just entered the monastery. Please teach me.”
Joshu asked, “Have you eaten your rice porridge?
The monk replied, “I have eaten.”
Joshu said, “Then you had better wash your bowl.”
At that moment the monk was enlightened.

I’m not going to try to explain that story, as I am far from enlightened enough to understand it. Instead, I’d like to focus the wonderful simplicity of that advice:

Have you eaten your rice porridge? Then you had better wash your bowl.

This is something I think of every time I eat, and in fact whenever I’m done doing something. “Done eating? Then wash your bowl.”

There is something profound and yet minimalist about this advice. It’s: don’t get your head caught up in all this thinking about the meaning of life … instead, just do. Just wash your bowl. And in the washing, you’ll find all you need.

I’ve found this to be true. I literally wash my bowl after eating, slowly and with mindfulness. It’s satisfying, and takes no money and little resources.

When I take a shower, I hand wash my dirty clothes (if they’re dirty), wring them out, hang them to dry. When I change, I carefully put away the clothes I’ve changed out of. When I prepare food, I wipe the counter and put away the ingredients. At least I try to – I don’t claim to be perfect.

Remembering to do these things when we’re done with the activity isn’t just about neatness. It’s about mindfulness, about completing what we started, about being present in all we do instead of rushing to the next activity.

Wash your bowl, with care and joy.

Well, hear me out, please. If you could read to the end of the post before disagreeing, blasting me, or dismissing me, I’d be grateful.

In this post I’ll tell you (briefly) why I chose veganism and how it is the diet I believe is most in line with minimalism.

Minimal eating

This is a limited, minimal diet, and yet it can be incredibly satisfying and maximally flavorful. It’s also very healthy, very light, and low on the budget (if you compare it to eating whole foods carnivorously).

A small amount of ingredients. Light on the palate and stomach. Easy to prepare, with a minimum of fuss.

The most sustainable diet

Animals also produce a huge amount of pollution and contribute immensely to greenhouse gases, not to mention the machinery and fuel that’s used to raise, slaughter and transport them … and all the plants needed to feed them. They contribute hugely to deforestation and other environmental problems as well.

Eating only plants cuts that waste to a minimal amount, and is so much better for the environment. Minimalists who care about living lightly and sustainably would do well to research this and consider it.

Minimal cruelty

There is absolutely no need for humans to consume animal products to live a healthy life. Sure, we’ve eaten them for millions of years, but as millions and millions of people have proven, you can eat a vegan diet and be healthy.

And so, the only reason to eat animal products is pleasure — you like the taste and “can’t give it up”. Vegans don’t believe animals should suffer for our pleasure, and becoming vegan means you’re opting out of a society that treats animals with extreme cruelty and pretends it doesn’t happen.

Addendum 1: Obviously this applies to factory farming, but it’s also true of free-range, grass-fed animals. Some vegans (myself included) don’t believe animals are objects that should be used for our pleasure, kept captive and killed, no matter how “humanely” we treat them while alive. This is akin to slavery of a fellow thinking, feeling creature. Animals don’t exist for human benefit — they exist for their own benefit.

Addendum 2: Another justification commonly made is that vegetarians kill plants, and those are living things too. However, they don’t feel and think and suffer in the same way that humans and animals do — they don’t have a central nervous system or brain. It’s a fallacious argument — carnivores have no problem with killing plants, and are only pointing this out to make vegans look inconsistent. If you feel that killing plants is cruel, then I challenge you to live consistently with that belief. Vegans are doing our best to live consistently with ours.

Living lightly, not always conveniently

That’s a reality, but in truth, it’s not that hard. I mostly cook my own food, with a minimum of preparation, and so most days I have no problems whatsoever.

More and more restaurants are becoming vegan-friendly, and the ones that aren’t can usually whip up a quick and simple vegetable dish on request. I usually avoid McDonald’s and most fast food anyway. When I go to someone else’s house, I usually bring a dish with me, and friends and family who know me best often will cook a dish for me out of consideration.

So it’s not that hard. My suggestion, if you’re interested, is starting small: try a couple vegan dishes this week, a couple next week, and so on. There’s no need to drastically change overnight, but in time you’ll find that vegan dishes are delicious and the vegan lifestyle is wonderfully minimalist.

Thanks for listening, my friends.

We want to be loved, to have friends, to experience joy, to have security.

But a desire for things is not as natural as we’re often led to believe. Sure, we all have desires for things: nice cars, nice clothes, nice houses, cool computers and iPhones, beautiful furniture and notebooks and shoes and jewelry and bags and bikes and on and on.

But these desires are manufactured in us, by advertising and marketing. They play on our natural instincts: for hoarding (security), for the pleasures of food and drugs and sex (desire for joy), for fitting in with clothes and bikes and gadgets (desire for friends), and so on.

Desires like these lead to all kinds of problems — in fact, all the problems of modern society. They are rooted in the immense power of corporations in our society, and their drive for massive profits. Problems result that include obesity and related diseases, massive consumer debt, shallow consumerism, overwork (to make money for all these things), lack of true human connection, and more.

And while desires are perfectly natural and unavoidable, if we can learn to let go of the manufactured desires, we’ll start to free ourselves from the chains of consumerism.

Start to become aware of these desires – recognize their signs in you. Pause before acting on them. Take deep breaths, go for a walk, get some perspective. You don’t really need more things, and buying is not the answer. Make do without and find happiness without more stuff.

Let the desire go, and feel the lightness, the freedom. Become liberated from desires, one at a time (not forever, but for the moment). You’ll love it.

It’s hard to let go.

Recently on Twitter someone asked: “Both parents gone. Tried to keep small things, photos – even then it’s alot of stuff. Regret tossing some notes & cards ..help?”

I can’t imagine how hard that would be, losing both parents and trying to hold on to memories of them. So I won’t try to give advice here.

What I can do is say what has worked for me, in allowing myself to let go of possessions but hold on to memories.

1. Scan. Old photos, letters, cards, notes, report cards, kids’ drawings, awards, etc. All can be scanned and saved into your computer. Use a program such as Evernote to keep them all organized, synced among your computers, and backed up online.

2. Take pictures. If the object can’t be scanned (a little teddy bear, or a wedding dress), take a digital photo. Keep them all organized via Google’s Picasa photo program — it’ll also store everything online, privately if you want, and you can use it to sync between computers.

3. Share with others. Give some of the most treasured things to others who will enjoy having them. Allow them to pass them on to other loved ones, etc., so the love and memories can be spread rather than hoarded.

4. Box things. If you really can’t part with things, even after scanning and taking photos of them, put them in boxes and put them out of sight, in storage, marked with a date that’s 6 months from now. On that date, open the box and realize you didn’t really need the items — and then pass them on or toss them.

4. Remember what’s important. It’s not the actual, physical objects that matter — these you can learn to let go of, with time. What matters is the memories. If you can hold on to the memories, by looking through scanned letters and photos on your computer from time to time, then you’re good.