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Sebastien's avatar

I've always been suspicious of those preaching minimalism. Sure, it has some virtues (that you spoke of better than I would), but it always seemed... off to me. If we put aside the vast majority of people that blabbers about it because it's trendy but doesn't really apply it, you are left with two kinds of people : the already rich, and the soon-to-be-poor.

The already rich (self-made or mommy's boys/ daddy's girls) see it as a way to exonarate themselves from the burden of wealth; like those Silicon Valley lords that made their money in a ruthless and often dubious way but now won't shut up about their newfound spirituality, "gratitude", "kindness" and virtue-signaling philantropy. These people aren't really minimalistic; they're just bored, rich, feeling guilty and want to prove something to themselves and their peers.

The soon-to-be-poor are the city dwellers (as you said) that use it in order to cope with their always-shrinking purchasing power. It's not necessarily minimalism to never buy anything, even when you'd really want to; it's not necessarily minimalism to sell your car and take the bus; it's not necessarily minimalism to share a house with 3 strangers at 30+ years old. And it's NOT minimalism to have a wardrobe made of 5 items and patch them up for years until they're unwearable.

Like you said, discarding objects is usually more a symptom than a cause; it's less that you want to make tabula rasa of your possessions, rathen than the desire of a tabula rasa in your head. And after all, is it really wrong ? Addiction specialists tell us that there is virtually 0 chance for someone to truly recover if they keep living in the same envirronment and among the same people. So I can see the logic behind all this. But as we've seen in your "travel" newsletter, you can't get away from yourself just by booking a one-way ticket to Bali, just like you won't resolve your issues by getting rid of your possessions. So maybe the real challenge is less to discard all your possessions and LARP as a modern monk, than learn to distinguish between inspiring/value-added objects and cluttering ones; maybe you should buy this new couch you're thinking of. But maybe you shouldn't buy the overpriced, trendy one your GF saw on some IG's influencer page but an old and timeless Chesterfield, full of history and meaning. Maybe you don't need the latest macBook to write your novel, but a nice fountain pen and a Moleskine notebook (in addition to your old but still efficient laptop) could give you the creative boost you were waiting for. If you develop your taste and learn to appreciate the intrinsic beauty some objects can carry, you'll eventually build - literaly - your own world, where each thing has its place and meaning; and the fact that you'll own 10 objects or a hundred won't make a difference. But in a strange way, you'll have achieved minimalism in your head.

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Luke Burgis's avatar

Tom, thank you for this. One of your best yet. I'll be sharing it on Twitter—a platform, I should note, that you have stealthily left because you have skin in the game, which lends these words all the more weight. Well done.

It seems to me that Minimalism and Digitalism and Essentialism—all "isms" for that matter, along with Marie Kondo's keeping only things that "spark joy"—are ways of prescribing external purges for what is truly interior work, a spirit of detachment, which is not so easily earned by reading self-improvement books or blogs.

One thing I always appreciate your insights is the emphasis that you place on freedom. I don't find it to be a kind of Sartrian conception of freedom but one imbued with a notion of responsibility, optimism, even hope.

There are charlatans (I won't name names) who recount the history of Homo Sapiens, for example, in a deterministic way, who refuse to acknowledge what they can verify in their own experience, that which is self-evident: I have the power to organize and arrange an Ordo Amoris in my life, an order of love, for which Twitter and my beloved vinyl LP of The Clash and even that glass of Blanton's bourbon that I tasted last night are, in the end, revealed for what they are—mere things, which only serve a noble purpose if they help me grow closer to my final goal in life, which is to love greatly.

Have a restful and re-energizing December, mate. We have but 9 left until the Soaring Twenties draws to a close, and we will be looking back at how we got started as the key to it all.

In the meantime, we'll miss you in Zoomlandia. Rock on.

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