They call themselves “the minimalists,” but a more apt title might be “the meaningfulists.”
Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus, who chucked their corporate jobs and six-figure salaries in favour of simpler yet richer lives, don’t preach about eliminating all but six items from your wardrobe or squeezing your family into a 300-square-foot home. They’re not above smartphones or ordering an overpriced mango bubble tea.
Theirs is a more holistic minimalism that challenges people to weed out the superfluous and spend more time on what’s important, to look critically at their health, relationships, careers and belongings, and ask: What value does this cupcake/ happy hour/promotion/new pair of shoes really add to my life?
“It isn’t about depriving ourselves,” Nicodemus said. “It’s about living more intentionally.”
The goal here, the one for which most of us strive, is happiness. Fields Millburn and Nicodemus, who greet every new acquaintance with a warm hug, believe they’ve found it, or at least are hot on its trail. The childhood friends from Ohio, both 31, write thoughtful essays about their transformations at theminimalists.com, and in 2011 they self-published the book Minimalism: Live a Meaningful Life (Asymmetrical Press).
The friends, both former telecom professionals, spent their 20s chasing the conventional trappings of success — high salaries, suburban homes, nice cars, exotic vacations — but were left feeling empty.
Only after Fields Millburn’s mom died, and suddenly life felt short and precious, did the friends resolve to yank themselves off the hamster wheel. They made a list of all the “anchors” holding them back — everything from unhealthy relationships to debt to cable bills — and started eliminating them so they could focus on the pursuits and people each felt most passionate about.
For Nicodemus, that meant holding a “packing party” in his 2,000-square-foot condo. He packed everything as if he were moving, and over the next three weeks unpacked only those things he needed. At the end, 80 per cent of his stuff remained in boxes, all of which he donated, sold or trashed.
“We are stuck in a culture of mass consumption,” he said. “This was a way for me to get back control.”
