Every Monday I post Real Life Minimalists, a profile of one of my readers in their own words. If you’d like to participate, click here for details.
This week, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to Marilyn. I love how she was finally able to embrace the minimalism that called to her since childhood, and can now enjoy the “silence” of a simpler lifestyle.
Marilyn writes:
I’ve been dedicated to minimalism since I was 12 years old and heard Thoreau read aloud in my elementary school library. That was 1952. Since then I’ve read every book I’ve come across on simplicity, simple living, downsizing, frugality, etc. There weren’t many until recent years.
I also found myself drawn to reading about monks and hermits, even as a child. Thomas Merton is/was a profound inspiration since my earliest years. There weren’t many books available in those days about spirituality and religious paths, especially by lay people.
My parents were married during the depression so they always saved everything in our small apartment. I don’t remember not feeling frustrated by the crowded rooms, packed closets, and clutter on every surface. The little converted back porch that served as my bedroom I kept as neat and spare as a monk’s cell.
When I married, there were gifts from 3 bridal showers, a wedding, and, eventually, 3 baby showers. Internally, I reacted with dismay at the clutter that descended on me each time. Then came the kids’ stuff! Thrilled as I was with the babies themselves–there was even more ‘accoutrement’ to be housed and dealt with.
My new mother in law gave me all kinds of stuff she herself no longer wanted but which was ‘too good to give away’, like a piano bench cover she had made by cutting circles in 3 sizes from old felt hats, stitching them by hand one on top of each other, 3 at a time, then lined up in long rows–I’m as horrified as I write this as I was when she gave it to me.
This was a rural area and I was told that the givers expected to see their gifts in evidence when visiting our home. So I felt even more frustration at being unable to dispose of items when I wished to.
When my marriage ended, I left the contents of a 12-room farmhouse behind (and the remaining wedding presents!), taking only my clothes, books, and records. Returning to the university to finish my degree, I finally had control over my life for the first time.
Now all that’s long past. I did end up emptying my mother’s house at the end of her life, as I’d dreaded. There were bugs in the fabric scraps she had saved for making quilts someday. The shoes she had only worn to my wedding 30+ years earlier were still in their box. The kitchen cupboard held 14 sauce pans (for only 4 burners, I’d kept reminding her!).
I still clean out closets, cupboards, etc., and donate stuff to the thrift stores on a regular basis. Even my file cabinets get cleaned out periodically, as more information is available online.
Miss Minimalist’s blog helped me refine the process even more in the past few years. I’ve long had white walls, which are now mostly also bare. As an experiment, I took down all the art, etc., on my walls, and discovered the silence available to me without all the distractions and the ‘stories’ that had unknowingly unfolded each time I had glanced at them. I prefer a quiet house that doesn’t trigger a cascade of memories. I prefer the silence.
I donated Miss Minimalist’s book to the library of the Quaker meeting where I’m a member. Simple living is a basic tenet of Quakerism. We sit in silence on Sunday mornings, waiting, and listening, together.
{If you’d like to learn more about minimalist living, please consider reading my book, The Joy of Less, or joining my email list.}
Thanks for sharing, Marilyn. Glad to hear that you’re much happier in your surroundings now.
” 14 saucepans for 4 burners”, that’s deep. That statement sums it up for me. thanks
You really made me laugh! That’s a great comment. Oh, the exasperation I felt with my mom. Here’s another “summary” from those years, between the bridal showers and wedding, 24 pairs of embroidered pillowcases entered my life and closet shelves.
“I prefer a silent house that doesn’t trigger a cascade of memories.” What a refreshing idea. Thank you for sharing your life and the inspiration you bring.
I too related most to this statement. So many relatable statements. Great writing I want to read this memoir. Wow Thoreau!
I agree, this one struck me. I justify keeping stuff to hang onto the memory. I think I just needed to hear that it is okay to let go of the memory and that other people are okay with it too. I think I would be able to live more in the moment without constantly being reminded of the past. Good and bad. Thank you for your story.
Wonderful story. Thank you for sharing.
Marilyn needs to write a blog! She has a way with words and I would love to read more of her reflections.
Oh, I love this post! I see myself so much in you, Marilyn, especially your comment about gift-givers expecting to see their gifts on display. I am so happy that you now have the quiet, peaceful life you deserve. Your story has given me hope that some day I, too, will have a quiet space with bare white walls where I can enjoy silence. Such an inspiration!
This post really resonated with me, I also loved bare and tidy rooms when I was small. I have been through the complete opposite with my late husband who was a borderline hoarder, and after he passed away I got rid of mountains of stuff. I am remarried and luckily my husband is far more amenable to decluttering, which I do regularly.
Your post was beautifully written, thank you.
Good post
beautiful post . I am so happy you are living the life that is right for you now. I attended Quakers back in the 90’s and loved the silence and the open spareness of the meeting house.I have worked on creating those spaces in my own home and only have a few well chosen items on my walls.
I can’t explain it but this post has a lovely peacefulness and feeling of content to it. You have put into words exactly why I subscribe to minimalism.
Great post, really related to it. I hope you write or post something more as you have a lovely way with words. Started to clean out my in-laws home after they passed to find empty prescription bottles from the 80’s since “they might be useful to put something in”. Sister-in-law ended up moving in and kept everything and just added her own stuff. You can barely move in there. My idea of a nightmare. Thanks for sharing this. I loved it.
Excellent post. Our world today is so filled with auditory and visual stimulation that we have all but forgotten what silence really is, and how necessary it really is to our well-being.
I think there is a sense of peace i minimalism. We have less intrusion, our thoughts are more complete and range into areas we never thought they could. Minimalism helps us know ourselves completely. In my life of minimalism, I made a mistake that made me realize we must be extremely careful with our decluttering, our cleaning, our organizing, our whiteness. As I grew further into my minimalistic life, I hadn’t noticed that I was drawing more into myself. I hadn’t noticed I was withdrawing from the outside into my quiet place more often than I should, I was spending more time with me and less and less time with those around me. One Sunday afternoon, my doorbell rang; it was a friend I hadn’t seen in quite some time. She came bearing gifts. She brought a riotous bouquet of flowers, every color of the rainbow and in between. They were in a large ceramic vase, a beautiful vase, a bright purple vase. She brought a plate of scones. The plate was a piece she had garnered from a flea market; an old china plate with alternating rings of pink bands and roses. I made some tea, we enjoyed the scones and chatted on forever about everything and nothing. As she prepared to leave, she told me, keep the vase and the plate, they look pretty in here. I looked at the vase and the plate everyday day for a week or so and I loved them more and more. It was then that I realized that minimalism doesn’t have to be vast, that it is okay to put some things, old or new into our space because we think they are pretty. We can buy a sweater that doesn’t go with anything we have except a pair of jeans because the color of it makes us happy. I know there will come a day when I tire of the plate, the vase, the sweater and a few other things I have collected. When that day arrives, I will either give them away, donate them or take them to a thrift store. I also know that while I’m at that thrift store, I will most likely find another pretty plate to replace the one I just gave away, and that will be just fine.
Thank you Judy. What you’re sharing is the beauty of minimalism; a situation where you can enjoy the beauty of a plate or a vase of flowers because they are surrounded by a certain amount of empty space. Without the openness of minimalism, they would just get lost in the clutter. As you know, minimalism doesn’t necessarily mean “nothingness,” it just means that you live with what is valuable and needful to you, without excess.
I too was inspired by what Marilyn shared. Thank you Marilyn! When I have enough space and silence, I appreciate the time I spend with others even more.
I am so drawn to Quakerism. . . you’ve inspired me to look for a meeting in my area.
Judy, I so agree with you. Life should be about simple pleasures, and sometimes objects and clothing make us feel good to look at them or wear them. I just brought home some little whimsical figurines from the thrift store for my porch and they look so cute nestled among the potted plants. For me, it’s about having the things around me that bring me joy, and when the time comes, letting them go. Not so much stuff that that my home feels cluttered, but just enough so it feels comfortable, and not austere.
Yes to Marilyn and yes to Judy! I cannot live with clutter but I want to live with the things that have meaning or just bring pleasure into my existence. Each person has an opinion of what has meaning or brings pleasure to their life. DH is the same way but sometimes our definitions of clutter are not the same. We have spent 55 years compromising! We are also aware that our 3 children are, for the most part, not interested in what we have accumulated over the years. Now, if we bring a ‘whatever’ into our space, we say it is “for the AUCTION.” We can enjoy it now and they can enjoy the money later.
“dedicated to minimalism since I was 12 years old”, definitely “A born Minimalist”
“Took down all the art from the walls?”
is that necessary too? I love art personally. I am not sure if I would do that.
and The idea of “Bare white walls” sounds good.
Of course it’s not ‘necessary’ to take down all the art, etc., or to even have bare walls at all. (I still have 3 paintings/photos I’ve never removed or even considered removing.) The ones I did take down had ‘stories’ that shouted at me every time I glanced at them — dramas that had accompanied the purchases or were sparked by them. It was the emotions evoked from the memories that I wanted to go away and leave me be.
I toured Georgia O’Keeffe’s house in Abiquiu, NM last month, and was struck by one of her minimalist paintings, thought briefly about finding an inexpensive print (poster) and framing it. But I stopped myself because it immediately triggered an old process of wanting, searching, evaluating, considering, acquiring, etc., that I simply don’t want to get into again.
It’s a sacred path we’re each on, and very individual, while sharing some commonalities and chuckles along the way.
I bought a few prints I liked for the colors. I gave the old ones I had to my son and his wife. My brother sent me a print he didn’t want any more. I like my apt full of live plants, I put them on my balcony during the summer. In the winter in the Midwest, there isn’t much green and growing. I think there are more hoarders than anyone has thought about. We were at a huge home yesterday, every inch was full. No relief anywhere you looked. Not messy, just full to the brim with collectibles, tchotkes, etc.