I just read  Everything That Remains: A Memoir  by The Minimalists. Like the book jacket says: “The story of a guy who thought he had everything anyone could ever want. Until he didn’t anymore.” Joshua Fields Millburn, and then his friend Ryan Nicodemus, got rid of everything they owned in a quest to create a simple, meaningful life. I read their blog first, then participated in their 30-Day Minimalism Game. On Day One, you donate/trash/get rid of one item. On Day Two, you donate/trash/get rid of two items. And so forth, for 30 days. It adds up to 465 items. Not as easy as it sounds for someone who already considers myself a minimalist. I knew I was in trouble when I started wondering whether a pair of holey socks could count as two items.  Some of the highlights from my discard pile: 3 jars of cinnamon, 4 boxes of gluten-free pasta, 3 mood rings, a pile of keys, a Dallas Cowboys baseball cap, a sweat-stained Lakers cap, two plastic coffee filter holders (I don’t even drink coffee), a bunch of wire dry cleaner clothes hangers, a large, furry winter coat (worn for one week in the last 17 years), a broken hairbrush, a container for dog biscuits (Ruby passed away five years ago), two of four practically identical teapots, a pair of never worn, red Lady Gaga-lite high heels, and a promotional duffel bag I bought at a friend’s yard sale for $2.00 because, “Who doesn’t need a duffel bag?” (Apparently me—six years, never been used). In the end I got rid of 411 items! The below photo was the ¾ mark.  

  (Don’t worry, the orange cowboy boots, blue polka dot dress, and pile of books, all survived the final cut.)

I just read Everything That Remains: A Memoir by The Minimalists. Like the book jacket says: “The story of a guy who thought he had everything anyone could ever want. Until he didn’t anymore.” Joshua Fields Millburn, and then his friend Ryan Nicodemus, got rid of everything they owned in a quest to create a simple, meaningful life. I read their blog first, then participated in their 30-Day Minimalism Game. On Day One, you donate/trash/get rid of one item. On Day Two, you donate/trash/get rid of two items. And so forth, for 30 days. It adds up to 465 items. Not as easy as it sounds for someone who already considers myself a minimalist. I knew I was in trouble when I started wondering whether a pair of holey socks could count as two items.  Some of the highlights from my discard pile: 3 jars of cinnamon, 4 boxes of gluten-free pasta, 3 mood rings, a pile of keys, a Dallas Cowboys baseball cap, a sweat-stained Lakers cap, two plastic coffee filter holders (I don’t even drink coffee), a bunch of wire dry cleaner clothes hangers, a large, furry winter coat (worn for one week in the last 17 years), a broken hairbrush, a container for dog biscuits (Ruby passed away five years ago), two of four practically identical teapots, a pair of never worn, red Lady Gaga-lite high heels, and a promotional duffel bag I bought at a friend’s yard sale for $2.00 because, “Who doesn’t need a duffel bag?” (Apparently me—six years, never been used). In the end I got rid of 411 items! The below photo was the ¾ mark.

(Don’t worry, the orange cowboy boots, blue polka dot dress, and pile of books, all survived the final cut.)