When is it Enough?

A couple of years ago, I created an Instagram account to help bring traffic to my online vintage clothing shop. It felt like it had been years overdue, really, and I just wanted a way for someone who happened to land on a picture of a vintage item I'd posted to hop on over to my shop. It's free advertising, essentially, and I wondered why it had taken me so long to do it. There are literally thousands of other accounts like mine, so I'd be in a sea of similarity, but again, free advertising. Hard to say no to that.

Fast forward almost two years later, and I'm nearly ready to shut it down. And this is the question I'm facing: How much is enough?

I've been on Instagram for over a decade, with a private account, probably closer to a dozen years or more. And it's nothing like the "good old days," if you can actually call Instagram that. Everything is monetized now, and normal posts of beautiful things seem to be a thing of the past. Instead, we have reels, and a constant play of new, more, buy this, get that... we are bombarded with consumerism. Every post is an ad, including mine.

When I added this vintage account, I followed similar vintage accounts. At first it was great; we are all in the same business, and it was fun to see all the beautiful vintage clothing! But then things shifted: I started coveting and feeling inferior. I wanted to find the awesome vintage treasures that other accounts had. Was my inventory good enough? Was I good enough? Why wasn't I successful? Mind you, I am successful. I've done wonderfully well selling vintage without Instagram.

But watching reels and other vintage sellers' posts only added to my insecurity and greed. I wanted what they had. And I realized this: social media, for me, created a greedy and self-conscious state, as well as a huge spirit of guilt.

Guilt for not looking like the most curated shop; guilt for not having what others had; guilt for feeling covetous; guilt for not measuring up; guilt for not posting enough. On and on. I found that this guilt, this entrapment of guilt which also hides as pride, is on all of social media. It's a huge conglomeration of guilt, greed, and pride, and I've already had to unfollow accounts - so I wouldn't see what they were bringing in - to bring back my peace.

So if I am constantly feeling like I'm not enough or that I have enough, is this not the opposite of what God wants for me? Isn't this the opposite of minimalism? If you're like me and follow accounts that make you feel less than or guilty, maybe this is your voice of reason to self-examine your social media choices, just like I have.

When will it be enough for me? I'm scrolling through Instagram, feeling like I am not enough and don't have enough; I'm up against people who don't have a minimalist mindset. Then why am I comparing myself to them? I'll never have enough if I keep that mindset. 

So, I have to do a few things.

Minimize the account - I'm on the fence about closing the account. I think I want to take it through the holiday season. But it's creating more confusion and chaos for me than the simple "post vintage items" account I thought it would be. If you have the same feeling of inferiority with your social media, then unfollow the accounts that make you feel this way. Or delete the social media app altogether. Because if guilt is all you feel, why are you immersing yourself in it?

Remind myself of Minimalism - I am selling just fine without my Instagram account. I have data metrics showing me how many people find my online shop via my Instagram account. It's very little. Yes, it points people to my shop if they like what they see, but most buyers go straight to the selling platform I use, rather than social media. Less is more. So I will probably go back to what worked for me. I can say no to excess and return to a more peaceful mind without my Instagram account.

I'm Not in Control - I think the biggest misconception, one that I'll always have, is that I think I have some semblance of control over my life. That if I add social media, I'll sell more items. If I have more items, I'll sell more items (not true, by the way); if I do more, be more, have more, work myself to the bone more, I'll reap a reward. All I can think about is Jesus saying, "Take my yoke upon you, my burden is light" (Matthew 11:28-30). It's not worth it! The anxiety and striving are not worth the peace I give up for an extra dollar or two.

If you're like me and trying too much, thinking you need to do more to be more successful, remember what minimalism is at its core: It's doing more with less. It doesn't get simpler than that.

When is it enough? Will it ever be? That's the question we all have to ask ourselves at the end of the day. I know my answer, and I plan on minimizing my social media again... back to the way it used to be in the "good old days."

Minimalism and Make Up Adjustments

Ladies, this minimalist post is for you.

Many of you want to know, as minimalists, how to go about minimizing your makeup and hygiene products. And is it really necessary to have it all?

I can tell you, without a doubt, the answer is no: you only need a few things.

Decades ago, as a teen, experimenting with all of the accoutrements around makeup and a young person's hygiene routines was fun. I mean, growing up in the '80s, it was all about Noxzema, Clinique (if you're lucky), and of course, Wet 'N Wild. There were lots of fun things to try, along with 60 shades of nail polish, and the makeup drawers were filled to the brim. Especially blue eyeshadow.

Though I used lots of products on my face and hair and had quite a bit of makeup, I was never one to own a huge amount of product. But I've had my fair share. I'd like to think I'm like the majority of American women who have just a little bit of everything.

I've used enough product to tell you this: you don't need much to look great. And it took me decades to figure this out. 

Minimizing my makeup was one of the last things to go. Mostly because I thought I used everything regularly. Turns out, I don't. That 30-color eyeshadow palette? Yeah, I only ever use two colors. The multiple lipsticks? I only use gloss now. Ten shower products? Nope, now it's only a body wash for everything. Forget the serums, and forget the evening creams; I use one face moisturizer morning and night. And it works just fine. Pick one, and use it. Stick with it. Most wrinkle creams do not do what they say they're going to do, anyway. Save your money.

But one of the biggest makeup changes, especially now that I  have maturing skin, is the foundation and powder duo. Not only is foundation one of the most frustrating things I've put on for decades, but I finally found a cream that works as a moisturizer, foundation tint, and SPF, and it's in a BB cream. I ditched the foundation and powder and now only use this BB cream.

I know what you're thinking. BB cream has been around forever. How am I just noticing it? Well, you're right. A German dermatologist founded it in 1967. The BB stands for Beauty Balm, and it was exactly what the makeup industry was missing.

I knew about this product about ten to fifteen years ago, when all the beauty brands rebranded the BB cream and pushed it on us in the 2010s. But I didn't think it was for me. I didn't think it covered enough. Turns out, it does. And I don't need a separate SPF or lotion. It's a three-in-one product. 

Here I thought my makeup routine was simple a few years ago when I abolished all of my excess shadows, blushes, and hair products. But minimalism does it again. This time, with a foundational makeup product I thought I couldn't live without!

The BB cream has simplified my routine to the extreme. Makeup takes less than five minutes to complete now. My routine includes blusher (that doubles as a shadow), eyebrow pencil, mascara, and lip gloss, and I'm done. This BB cream is inexpensive. Maybelline is easy to get as well, as it's at most drug stores or on Amazon. I have it linked here so you can look at it, but find one that works best for you. 

Is this for everyone? Maybe not. If you want that extra eye cream, or need a few lipsticks, great. Maybe you need a little extra foundation to cover some skin problems. I get it.

Do what works best for you. Here's the goal, though: instead of having drawers overflowing with products you don't use, why not find the few products you use all the time and get rid of the rest? How freeing.

Stick with traditional and classic, just like a wardrobe, and you'll always look good. And having a morning routine that takes minutes is literally like finding more hours in the day. 

If that's not good news, I don't know what is. 

Happy minimal living, everyone. You can do it!

Closet Check Forever

I always think this is it... this is the year that I won't need to clean out my closet again. But it never goes that way. And it isn't because I'm not being thoughtful or forgetting to maintain my minimalist ways. It's because purchases sneak in. It's because the years of thinking "one more garment" will make me happy still have sway over me (it's hard to admit it!)

Some purchases I make throughout the year are very valid: a new season means warmer or cooler clothing, which means replacing worn-out pieces, or adding basic essentials. Those are necessary. But throughout the year, I receive gifts of clothing, or pieces I pick up on the fly at a thrift store or Target. Those are the ones that sneak in and sabotage me.

I have a dear friend who loves to thrift like I do. She has a habit of purchasing a clothing item from the thrift store every time she's in, and if she doesn't find something to buy, she feels like she's being kept from the joy of buying, being denied the thrill of the hunt. It's cheap and simple, after all, right?

That's where it's all wrong, though. And she knows it. She has a pile - a literal pile - of clothing that doesn't fit in her closet sitting next to her bed: pieces she's picked up over the years that she doesn't wear, and it sits there, waiting for her to donate back to the thrift store or wear it. And she does neither.

It's both funny and also sad. She knows she needs to stop buying, but she's having trouble breaking the "seeing and purchasing" cycle, and not donating what she already doesn't wear. It's vicious. And yet, how I so understand!

So it comes down to daily denying yourself. It isn't fun to hear, or for me to write, but it's the only way to be free. If you like to shop, think of it as an exercise in saying no. If you can't help but shop, or at least window shop, then go in with the mindset that you don't need any of it and enjoy looking. And if something finds its way home to replace an old piece, fantastic. 

The thrill of purchasing lasts for such a small time. And this works for large or small items. I had a former brother-in-law who purchased cars yearly because he loved the thrill of a new car. It was truly heartbreaking to see it happen because we knew each car only satisfied his hunger for a short time.

When I'm out shopping, I try to remember a few things:

1. Do I truly need this, or do I already have something like it? If not, put it back.

2. Is this item going to replace something I already have? If not, put it back.

3. Am I buying this because I need the dopamine hit to feel good? Or because I really need it? If not, put it back.

4. If I buy this, how often will I wear it? If we're talking less than once a month, then just say no. Put it back.

There are only a few clothing items we wear regularly. I dare you to test this theory! Look at what you wore this last season. A few of the same pieces, over and over, I'm sure.  We tend to wear a handful of items every season. So, why not keep with those few items and see how creative we can be with those core pieces this next season? Remember, 10 articles of clothing - five tops and five bottoms - can create 25 different outfits. That's nearly an entire month all with just a few pieces!

We need less than we think we need.

So, will I have to keep an eye on my closet forever? Probably. But I can exercise my "saying no" muscle every time I shop, only buying what I truly need and will truly wear, and keep my closet thinned out but full of life;  loved the way every wardrobe deserves.

-Heather

Wisdom in Minimalism

How much better to get wisdom than gold, to get insight rather than silver! (Proverbs 16:16, NIV).

For years, as I grew up reading this proverb, I marveled at its relevance. For one thing, it didn't feel relevant. That is the point of a proverb, though. To point out the problem and supply a better promise. But I was young when I first read it; I didn't possess wisdom. Naturally, it didn't make sense. Why and how would wisdom supersede the need or desire for money and things?

Fast forward to me turning "old," and it all makes sense now. Partly because I know money doesn't satisfy me the way I want it to; it never can. It's a forever trap of accumulating to feel better, until I lose interest and buy something else to raise my spirits. Ad nauseam.

Wisdom is what it took to show me how things really are. And what is that wisdom? Minimalism.

Things will never satisfy us. Only appreciating what we have and using what we have, with the central theme of contentment at its core, works. It's a figuring out of what we already have, appreciating that, and choosing not to need more to feel satisfied. To really be happy.

This is something money - which translated into things - could never generate for me. Even though I thought it could, thought it should, and wanted it to. It was a never-ending cycle of need that clouded my vision for my life, my family, and everyone around me.

Looking back, that proverb that always needled me is all I needed to see clearly. Because getting this wisdom meant learning from mistakes, talking to wiser folks, and educating myself with what God has to say about money, friendship, and life decisions. 

As Joshua Becker says in his newest book, Uncluttered Faith, "I've found, in fact, that there are some things we simply cannot learn about ourselves until we minimize our possessions." And that's precisely what happened to me. Minimalism, and the love for slow living, which is central to minimalism as well, matured me and reminded me what true, honest, and soul-thriving living was all about. 

Here's the wisdom I've acquired (and am still acquiring) showing me how wrong I was about materialism.

Wisdom in purchases: Buy what I need, buy what I use. Of course, there will be times when I want a little fun and will purchase something fun; perhaps even something we don't really need. But on the whole, all of my purchases are extremely focused on what I can use, give, and live on. Not to accumulate. I have wasted time on buying stuff and curating collections I don't need. And when I realized all of these useless purchases wasted my time - literally taking time out of my working schedule that I can't ever get back - it changed my purchasing power and my level of contentment. As Becker also says in his book, "Contentment isn't about giving up or not wanting more. It's actually a powerful force that can lay the groundwork and provide the inspiration to reach higher heights than we ever dreamed." That is the wisdom I've gained in minimalism. There's so much power and freedom in not wanting more. 

Wisdom in time: We only get so many hours, so many days, and so many years to make a difference. What will I show when God asks me what I did for the years he gave me? Because acquiring a collection of dishes surely means nothing by that time. That was of no value other than a short amount of joy. And while there isn't inherently anything wrong with collecting - we should have joy here on earth - our lives on earth are short. We might as well make them count. As Becker mentions in his book,  "What do we really value in life? When we get down to it and search our hearts, is our greatest goal to live lives of ease, comfort, and entertainment for ourselves...?" The most worthy thing I can do with my time is to love others and show that love, every day of every hour given to me. There is a time and place for vacation and time off, entertainment and fun, but at the end of life, I'm thinking I'll have wanted to have done more for others than for myself.

Wisdom in relationships: Who we spend time with makes a difference in how we spend our time. Storing up treasures in heaven is the goal, but it can be hard to make that the goal when we're surrounded by a culture whose focus is to get our focus off of that! Choose your friends wisely; be with people who sharpen the good in you and want similar goals. Is your time spent mostly on seeing how you can spend it being entertained? While there is a place and time for that, if you're enticed only by how this world can entertain you, from television to shopping, you'll be rich here temporarily, but bankrupt for eternity when we die. From Uncluttered Faith: "As we intentionally own less, we begin to detach from the world and its empty promises." What lie is the world promising you now? What time-wasting (but money-saving!) things can you change from your life?

Wisdom takes time. We humans are slow to learn. I know this because minimalism didn't start for me until ten years ago. But it began with a love for slow living and vintage clothing, then a trip to Europe (with my great friend with only one small bag) that really got me questioning my lifestyle. It transformed the way I think, live, and love. 

It's a forever work in progress, this minimalism. I'm constantly reverting back to a consumeristic way, only to remind myself that I don't live that way anymore. Nor do I need to. But I am in love with my simple, full, and incredibly rich life. I am so satisfied.

Wisdom is hard-won because you have to fight to get it. Like anything good, it's going to take effort to keep it, too. But you can do it; you can fight the good fight when you know what you're fighting against. And learning how to treat things in our lives with wisdom may be just the start you need. 

**Joshua Becker's book, Uncluttered Faith, is a wonderful book about faith and minimalism, how intertwined they are, and how biblical the minimalistic lifestyle is. I highly recommend it, even if you're not religious. It's eye-opening and encouraging, and it will get you to think, ponder, and listen... all the beginning facets of wisdom.**

They Left Us Everything - A mini review

I recently finished a book called The Left Us Everything, by Plum Johnson. The book's writing was well done and intrigued me the moment I started it, which is always a great sign. I plowed through the 400-page book, riveted by every chapter, and it didn't disappoint.

It's essentially about a woman (and her siblings) who have to go through their late parents' home -- one that was stuffed to the gills. For most people with aging parents, this book is relatable. 

But as a minimalist, I figured this book would be about wishing that their mom and dad had downsized before death, since it caused a lot of grief to not only go through the things, but also balance their grief alongside everything they touched. It was hard enough to deal with their loss, but having to go through endless paperwork, every closet, and the attic and basement space was an added burden.

Somewhere I read that this was a good book about "a family going through a house," and I thought it would be a great read, particularly as a minimalist and as one who loves a good estate sale. My kind of book!

Ultimately, the book was different than what I expected. It was good (get it here), and it's a reminder that we will all go through grief with our parents at some point, and many of us will have to deal with a house to go through as well. But the biggest thing I wasn't expecting the author to say, amidst a 4000-square-foot house stuffed with things to go through, is that she "thinks everyone should not have their parents downsize, but instead, as their child, go through the pain of getting rid of a house full of things."

I was flabbergasted, and just a bit confused. Didn't she dread going through the house? She told us this constantly. Hadn't she said she wished her parents had gone through the piles of paperwork? It took her something like over a year to go through the whole home. She, in fact, moved in to work on it; it was so overwhelming.

Here's what I think she was getting at: She got to relive her life, her memories, find new things about her parents, secrets and unknowns, and was glad for this. When you grieve the loss of someone, any new thing that surrounded them tells a story; it helps to form a more perfect story of who they really were. Whether it was the perfume mom wore daily, or the closet of clothes dad loved, or the piles of recipes she kept. I understand this because when someone leaves us, all we have are memories. And to tangibly hold something that meant something to them, it connects us ... we feel that they're still with us.

But, I don't think it's wise to keep a stuffed home for your kids. Most of it will be tossed, and that's what this lady ended up doing: throwing away and donating most of it. Sure, larger items, like furniture, went to siblings and grandkids, and that's wonderful. But wouldn't it have been even better if the parents had been able to give those things away with a story to the family while everyone was still alive? There's value in that; there is love in giving items away with your blessing.

Grief is hard. But going through a house of stuff is harder. If it had been up to me, I would've told my parents to take a good look at Swedish Death Cleaning and then help them do it!

It's difficult to give up a family home; to let go of every memory that every corner of the home holds. I get it. I did this with my parents a few years ago, one they lived in for 40 years, and I still think about that home. Constantly. But nostalgia keeps us from looking at the truth of a matter. Wanting to leave and needing to leave are two different things. Sometimes, being practical and realistic has to overcome memories and nostalgia. Loving your parents also looks like helping them live a less complicated life the older they get.

So, while I was in disagreement with her theory that it was good to have a houseful of stuff to go through (that weighed heavily on her and her siblings throughout the entire, dragged-out process of getting rid of a lifetime of things in the home), I do sympathize with her predicament. I would also recommend reading the book. It was eye-opening and a wonderful memoir, and clearly, she loved her parents.  

In the end, that - not the stuff - is what matters anyway.