One of our goals for this year, in conjunction with our move out to California in a few months, is to reduce our inventory of material possessions.   Sometimes referred to as “purging”  or “decluttering”….I personally prefer to use the term “downsizing.”   “Purging” can have unintended negative associations (bulimia, genocide, etc), and “decluttering” implies that we have clutter to begin with (which some of us may not want to believe).  “Downsizing” is neutral and easily relate-able to anyone.    Allie and I have been talking about it for several years now, and the upcoming move is a forcing function to actually execute on a timeline.   I do believe that a good downsizing will make our lives much simpler, streamlined, enjoyable, cost less, and allow us more flexibility.  So we’ve taken some steps and we’re making some progress, but there’s still much to do.  And it’s not easy.

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What/Why

Downsizing is simple in concept, difficult in execution.  Getting rid of things seems to go against some primal and ingrained instinct that we all have to acquire “stuff.”

It’s the classic elephant vs rider struggle – as our rational conscious self is not always in synch with the intuitive subconscious self (metaphor taken from The Happiness Hypothesis, by Jonathan Haidt).  Consciously it’s very easy for me to say and mean “I don’t need this stuff – I’ll just get rid of a lot of it.”  But then when I set aside a Saturday, and start going through my stuff with the intent to downsize, the “giveaway/throwaway” pile usually remains pathetically small alongside it’s ugly big brother, the “keep” pile.  Subconsciously, we have a deep seated tendency to keep things we have – the elephant is accustomed to hoarding.   The rider yells at him and yanks on the reins, but the elephant is stingy and likes to stick to his ways.   At the end of the day that old unworn sweater that you know you probably won’t wear ends up back in the closet where it began.

Why is this?… why do we subconsciously want to keep to things we don’t need or use? I break it down to three main factors:

1)   Psychological: As humans we all want things.  And because we want, we try to get.  Once we get, we don’t want to want again, so we retain.   So it’s somewhat hardwired into our brains to want, acquire, and retain.
   Also, there’s a learned side of it as well.  Most of us know the psychological pain that is associated with needing something you don’t have.  And to take it one step further, most of us have needed something that we once had, but lost (car keys!).  So I believe theres some psychological scarring that makes us prone to hold onto things “just in case.”  It’s much easier to convince yourself that you need (or might need) something, than to convince yourself that you can do without.
Also – for some reason we don’t appreciate something we have, as much as we desire it when we don’t have it (two birds in the bush, once in your hand, are worth only one bird).

2)    Evolutionary: I subscribe to the theory that many of our behavioral and psychological tendencies are the result of natural selection.  Over eons, evolution has selected individuals who acquire more resources to support survival and reproduction.  For millions of years hoarding things gave you a survival and reproductive advantage.  The ancient hunter/gatherer who collected and protected resources from rivals had a better chance of survival than the one who dropped all his tools and food every time he up and left to the next valley.  So we’ve evolved to want to keep things.

3)   Cultural:  Our capitalist economy depends on significant consumption, or a high throughput of products.  It’s a fact that the economy does better when people spend more – so we are influenced and incentivized to want, need, and buy (a phenomenon dubbed “consumerism”)….repeatedly.
  An example is the concept of “planned obsolescence” – deliberately designing a product to fail after a certain period of time, which renews the demand for a new similar product.  More throughput over time is good for the economy.   If – hypothetically – we were to stop buying new stuff, the market and economy, and ultimately our way of life, would change drastically.
While economy influences us to want more, culture influences us to have more (cultural norms – what other people do).  We are all influenced by the barrage of advertisements, products, and cultural norms that we are exposed to every day.  Like it or not – that stuff sways the elephant.

*Another ancillary societal factor (not really cultural, but related) that also affects us is our modern infrastructure.  As a whole – western culture has created a way of life that necessitates participants to have a lot of things in order to thrive.  It’s tough to get by in many places without a car, cellphone, or bank account.  The requirement for these is driven largely by infrastructure.

**Also – downsizing is a lot of work.  And the more stuff you have, the more work it is.  When I had a bed and a desk in college, a full clean-out session would have taken several hours.  Now we need to devote days or weeks to it.  Every item is a decision – albeit some are easier than others – and the mental fatigue of deciding the fate of hundreds of possessions is significant.  And when decision fatigue sets in – you’re more likely to default to the elephant’s tendency.

Some succumb to these factors more than others.  At one end of the spectrum are hoarders – made famous in recent years by the reality TV show that exposes the extreme dark side of having too much stuff, to the point of it being a disease.  We pity these folks who literally live in mounds of their own junk, unable to get rid of it.

At the other end of the spectrum are those who deliberately choose a life of only the bare necessities.  These folks eschew material possessions for a more spartan lifestyle, their philosophy rooted in the idea that material things detract from, rather than augment, our awareness of self, spiritual purity, or life experience.

99% of us live somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, but I’ll go out on a limb and say that the majority of middle and upper class Western society probably errs closer to hoarder than to austere monk.

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How

Their are many “How-to” books written on this subject, and even more methods or approaches to it.  For simplicity’s sake – I’ll break down our possessions into four somewhat distinct categories:  “Definitely keep” (#1),  “Want to keep” (#2), “I should get rid of this, but….. ” (#3) and “Definitely toss” (#4).

Category #1 consists of things that most of us would agree are worth keeping.  For me, things that fall into this category are:

– Things essential to our daily routines (such as bowls and plates, toothbrush, vehicles).

– Things that enable activities we really enjoy…“Toys” (surfboards, soccer balls, skis)

– Vessels of information we deem valuable/useful (good books, laptops, maybe TVs)

– Things that have true nostalgic value…the “Meaningful Irreplaceables” (baby photo albums, family heirlooms)

Category #2 often gets confused with #1, because both the rider and elephant are inclined to hold onto them.  The difference is that your life wouldn’t really be affected if they went away:

– Items of $$ value, that otherwise serve no real purpose.

– Things we’ve had for a long time

– Things that have a very specific purpose, that nothing else can do (that unique tool in the toolbox that never gets used, but if you ever needed it, it’s the only thing that can do it).

– Strictly aesthetic items (wall pictures, that pristine couch that you’re not allowed to sit on).

Category #3 consists of things that the rider wants to toss, but the elephant wants to retain.  You know you should probably say goodbye these things, but are hesitant to.  You can’t justify keeping them, but you also can’t justify getting rid of them (like the old unworn sweater mentioned earlier on).

– “Unmeaningful Irreplaceables” (the picture of your neighbor’s dog, the neon-green 5k race t-shirt from 4 years ago)

– Things we like, but rarely use, and never need (any coffee mugs beyond the third)

– Lame or unnecessary gifts from people you care about (“but this oven mitt was a gift from ____ !”)

– Multiple repeat offenders from categories 1 and 2  (surfboard #4, back-up vacuum cleaner, that second cabinet shelf of wine glasses)

– Board games

Category #4 is things that the rider and elephant generally both agree that you don’t and won’t want or need:

– Garbage

– …..???

Hmmmm, not really much in this category.  If there were, this would be easy.

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Most of what we own probably fall in categories 2 and 3.    And we are connected, in varying degrees, to most everything in those categories.  Everything in there requires a deliberate, sometimes difficult decision.

So the point is that in order to throw things away, we have to accept that it will be uncomfortable, especially at first.  We have to fight our primal instinct to hoard.   In theory this should become easier with practice – the rider can train his elephant.  This takes time, patience, and faith (faith that although it hurts to get rid of it, we’ll be better off without that old chest of drawers).   We need to delineate categories 1, 2, and 3 above – and then make deliberate decisions on things in category 2 and 3.  Decision criteria will differ person to person – but being deliberate and intentional is probably the most important part of downsizing.

*As I’ve worked this problem set a bit over the last couple months, I’ve discovered a way to speed up your elephant training.  It is easier to part with items from categories 2 or 3, if you send them to a good home where they will be used and enjoyed by someone else.  Donating to a charity service or thrift store is a good way to do it, plus you get a tax deduction for items donated.  It feels good to give things to people in need.   Equally satisfying though is reselling, either through a yard sale or online service such as Ebay or Craigslist.  It’s satisfying not so much because you are getting $$, but more because you know that if someone is paying you for it they actually want it.  Your stuff will continue its days in a home, rather than in a landfill.

Easier still is to give things to someone you know – either as a gift or just as a unsolicited donation.  Your old stuff now stays in the circle of friends/family.

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Why, Part 2

So we’ve talked about “why it’s hard” but that still leaves the question “why do it?”  Is life really better if you downsize and lighten your load?

Buddhism teaches that man’s suffering stems from his innate desires and connection to material possessions (oversimplification I know, don’t attack me).  To escape suffering, you must break the connection with material possessions, which are by their nature fleeting.  In Buddhism and many other religious/ethical systems, there are hundreds or thousands of variations of proverbs that say something to the effect of “connection to material possessions ultimately brings unhappiness.”

Most philosophies or spiritual theories preach that life can’t fulfilled through pursuit of things.  But consumerism – which dominates the world we navigate daily – preaches the opposite.  Hence the struggle.  And that side of the issue is very subjective – that one’s up to the individual to work out.

“The essence of philosophy is that a man should so live that his happiness shall depend as little as possible on external things” – Epictetus

But we can also look at it from a pragmatic point of view.   To start with the obvious – having and maintaining less things costs less money.  A small house costs less to heat than a large one.   There’s also the time and energy cost – we are inherently responsible for management and maintenance of things we own, which requires time and energy.  Even small things that sit in drawers out of site – they incur a cost.

These costs may be deferred, but they’re still there.  You’ll have to pay up when:  a) you’ll expend time and mental energy later when deciding whether to keep or discard it (likely along with a bunch of your other stuff),  b)  it serves as chaff/clutter that prevents you from finding something you need, c) it takes up space that could be used for other things, d) you have to move and carry all these things with you, or – most importantly – e) it dilutes your appreciation for all the other good things in your life.

My assessment is that there is a sweet spot, and it’s probably different for every person.  As a species we have common biological and social requirements (food, shelter, clothing, social interaction) – but above that our needs are moldable.  Some people can live very spartan, low material density lives and be unwanting and content.   Others feel that they need more things… whether it’s a newer nicer car, bigger house, more toys, the latest smartphone, etc.   The longer we spend in a certain state, the more it becomes our new normal and tougher it becomes to re-baseline to a lower sweet spot.

This point is key – that the range of an individual’s sweet spot evolves and is changeable…. you can train yourself to “need” different levels of things.  It’s easy learn to need more – consumerism does that for us.  But it’s harder to learn to need less – that’s a struggle we must make on our own against the three factors listed above (psychological, evolutionary, cultural).

My experience has been that people generally start small.  Over the years as our percieved needs increase, we blow through the “sweet spot” and level out above it, somewhere in the  “cultural norm”.   It can create an unsettling sense of being settled (??),  coupled with a general sense of dissatisfaction that can lead to the acquisition of more things.   Over time we become more burdened by our things then enabled by them.

“The things you own end up owning you” – Tyler Durden, Fight Club

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My Situation

A quick snapshot of the macro-trend line in my life.   Let’s look back at how my “material footprint” has evolved over the years:

1999-2003:  A desk and a bed in a shared college dorm room.  Everything I owned fit in my pickup truck.

2003-2006:  Shared a small 2 bedroom apartment with a friend.  Everything I owned fit into a small box truck.

2006-2008:  My first time living alone – a small 1 bedroom apartment.  Everything still fit in a box truck, maybe just a little tougher to get it in there.

2008-2010:  Significant upsize in living space when I moved into a large apartment in Germany.  I lived alone in it for about 6 months before Allie joined me and moved in.  It was spacious and relatively sparsely furnished.  Since I really only had what I brought from CA, and Allie only came with what she could carry with her on her flight, we enjoyed plenty of open space and not a lot of excess things.

2010-2011:  We moved back stateside to VB, and into a bigger condo.  Significant influx of things during this period.   I pulled things out of storage and my parents’ attic that I hadn’t brought to Germany, Allie added to our inventory with things from her home in NC, and we bought things to fill in the extra square footage we now inhabited.

2012-present:  This is the period of the most material growth… and it’s understandable.  In late 2011 we closed on our first home purchase – we were now homeowners with roots.  And our new house was full of space!  I think it’s 2300 square feet, which doesn’t include the detached garage in the back.  For two people that’s a lot.  The garage, which was Allie’s, quickly filled up with years and years worth of small things of varying sentimental value.  My workshop and our attic filled with various rubbermaid boxes and bags of old stuff that for some reason or other I’d held onto years ago.  And lots of “good deal” furniture started showing up from the thrift store – all of it good, but needed only really to fill space or as a place to keep stuff.  And when Finley was born last year – a significant amount of baby things were added to the equation.

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So here we are almost 6 years later, having to undo much of the root-setting we’ve been subconsciously engaged in since moving in.  But the above timeline shows that the last 6 years were just the most recent and most busy phase of a larger phenomenon/trend that can be traced back to when I graduated college.   The only way to halt this trend, and ultimately reverse it, is to start the difficult process of training my hard-headed elephant.  And with our move coming up in a few months, there’s no time like the present.