I thought I had to be a perfect minimalist.
As one who is aspiring to minimalism, I always feel like I’m failing. I progress, then I struggle.
Two steps forward, one step back.
I thought that, for “real minimalists”, the desire for stuff goes away. I thought that somehow they’d achieved this uber-cool easy state of Zen-nyness where nothing material mattered any more.
I was wrong.
We all struggle. Being minimalist isn’t a place we’re trying to get to. It’s not the Land of Oz (or Dagobah).
We can’t fail at minimalism, because there is no failure. There is no judge. No finish line.
Every change we make for the better is a success we’ve achieved, and we can be happy about that. If we’re not where we want to be, all we need to do is alter our course a little.
Minimalism is a discipline and, like all disciplines, nobody ever completes minimalism, any more than one completes the English Language or Physics or Medicine.
There is always something new to learn and discover.
So I’ll call myself a disciple of minimalism. I’m on this path, and for me it is the right path.