Over 20 years ago, I read a book that taught how to simplify
one’s life. Like many of the books I have read, I don’t remember the title and
author, but I remember one of the basic tenets: to live simply, I have to do
without a lot of “stuff”.
Most men own a dress suit or two, and the coordinating
accessories, simple casual clothes like jeans and polo shirts or t-shirts, and
only a couple of pairs of shoes. They can just grab what is on the rack or
shelf and off they go. Women, on the other hand, are lured to department stores
by seasonal sales, and quickly learn the emotional value of buying a pair of
shoes with a purse to match. The result is a closet full of suits, dresses,
pants, designer jeans, and a rack of shoes that would make Imelda Marcos proud.
That was me: I had a job that I thought required me to Dress for Success, so I
invested in clothes and shoes.
So in adopting the simple life, I went to a wardrobe that was
similar to that of a man’s: one pair of black “dress” shoes (mine are black walking
shoes), one pair of weekend tennis shoes, and one pair of slippers; black
trousers for work (two, to rotate); five or six work blouses or tops and black
trouser socks for work; a couple of weekend casual shirts and a couple of pairs
of plain Lee jeans. I no longer wore skirts or dresses that required panty hose
and dressy shoes. I learned that I could be successful and professional without
having to look like the cover of Vogue. Today, I have the same kind of
wardrobe, except I now can wear jeans to work with uniform shirts, so the daily
decision is even easier. I can literally get dressed in the dark, grabbing the
pants with the next shirt in the rotation, a pair of socks from the sock drawer,
and the shoes that waited on the floor in front of the clothes rack.
Another tip from the book was to go through all your other “stuff”
that you don’t use regularly and put it all in unmarked boxes in storage. If
you need something, you would have to look for it. If, after one year, you didn’t
have to look for something in a box, take the box to Goodwill without looking
at it. That’s what I did, and it was a large donation that year. This was a
difficult exercise, because a lot of “stuff” had sentimental value, or I believed
that I would need it someday. But I discerned that if something had true
sentimental value (like something belonging to my parents, or an award of some
kind), I didn’t pack it. If I thought I might need it someday, I asked myself
if it was something that could become outdated, or could easily be replaced
with a newer version. If the answer was yes, it got packed away.
So now every year, I take bags of clothes and other “stuff” to
Goodwill or the Salvation Army. Every year, the amount is less, because I get
better and better at not buying stuff I won’t use. Last year and this year, Goodwill
got more, because I lost a significant amount of weight and I will not be using
the larger sizes. I kept a bit of it last year just in case the weight loss
didn’t take, but now I am in the second year of maintaining the weight, so I am
convinced I will stay at this new goal weight.
I now value gifts of “experience” – dinner at a special
restaurant; concerts and other events; special family occasions; annual loving
visits with my siblings when I deliver the Christmas goodie baskets that are
designed to be consumed.
I am grateful for what I have: important tools that make my
life easier, a loving family; and special events that remind me that life is
simple, and life is good.
