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The Museum of Me
Why minimalism isn’t the right word for me
In theory, I love minimalism. But one glance inside my house will tell you I’m not a minimalist.
Nor am I a maximalist, nor a materialist.
I’m something else.
I don’t know what, though.
I tried to be a minimalist.
Years ago, I moved to a smaller house and sold or gave away a lot of things. Many of them were things that I should have kept because I miss them now. Some have been re-purchased.
So, I’ve given up on minimalism. However, it’s not fair to call me a materialist, either. Almost all my purchases are things like food and toiletries. We barely ever purchase a new thing, and when we do, it’s because we’ve thought long and hard about it.
Whenever possible, I find old things to reuse or repurpose.
A case in point: I am getting rid of my old desk, because it did not meet my needs, but I replaced it with a vintage mahogany desk I got at a low price. It is such a pleasure to use this solid, well-made, beautiful desk. It will last as long as civilization does; perhaps longer at the rate we’re going.
