I am not a minimalist, but I do seek simplicity. How the hell is that possible? Isn’t it splitting hairs? Isn’t it making life overly complicated to differentiate? Which would be exquisitely ironic, if nothing else. (And how ridiculous of me, to seek simplicity when I work in an industry that thrives on the complicated - plots, shots, sets, effects and logistics – all to make something that has no material existence at all now everything’s digital).
However, just because complicated unreality pays my bills doesn’t mean I have to seek it out of the office. So I looked up both minimalism and simplicity in the Oxford Dictionary, just to see if I had the glimmerings of a point.
Minimalism:
1 a movement in sculpture and painting which arose in the 1950s , characterized by the use of simple, massive forms.
2 an avant-garde movement in music characterized by the repetition of very short phrases which change gradually, producing a hypnotic effect.
3 deliberate lack of decoration or adornment in style or design
Simplicity, on the other hand, is defined as:
1 the quality or condition of being easy to understand or do
2 the quality or condition of being plain or uncomplicated in form or design
3 a thing that is plain or uncomplicated
Okay, so the definitions overlap a bit, especially when it comes to design. But that’s not to say that minimalism is simply the extreme or fundamentalist form of simplicity. A simple kitchen has a couple of sharp knives and a peeler. A minimalist kitchen has one multi-purpose gadget from JML that chops and peels and probably minces and mixes as well. (Some people will argue about this. It’s my blog, purposes of understanding what I’m on about, my definition goes. Okay? Glad we sorted that out).
Minimalism as a life goal takes simplicity to a whole new level at which it can actually turn out to be quite complicated. I am seeking to de-complicate my life, so I will stick to the sharp knives and separate peeler, thank you, and not spend my money with JML. (Partly because spending money = broke = very complicated life, at least until payday).
After all, multi-functional isn’t necessarily more efficient. Multi-tasking is something we’ve all developed, but I don’t know
I suppose you could call it a Shaker approach, as per their dictum: “Don’t make something unless it is both necessary and useful; but if it is both necessary and useful, don’t hesitate to make it beautiful.”
The trick, which I’m still working on, is figuring out what is both necessary and useful in the context of a modern, urban life in a commercial society. When I do work it out, this blog will be the first to know.
So if simplifying is taking an Occam approach, then where does that leave the iLife? If I have an iPhone, does that mean my iPod is no longer useful or necessary (probably not necessary, if I’m honest). What about my camera? Does a laptop with high storage capacity obviate the need for DVDs, CDs and books? Does the Cloud mean my laptop’s hard drive is no longer strictly necessary, or just that its size is no longer so relevant? How much do I double up on gadgets and things in my life? Is there a genuine argument for doing so?
Sometimes. Summer and winter clothes. Seasonal changes, differing activities and purposes. Like everybody else, I am very good at justifying my possessions. Probably too good. It comes of living in a consumer society, where shopping is a leisure activity, and even in these straitened times we can tell ourselves we’re “doing our bit for the economy” by keeping the money going around and around. And that’s the trouble. Our economies are based on the circulation of money, on the requriement that money moves. The crash came because the money stopped moving. Debtors defaulted, investors kept hold of their cash as they didn’t see a return for them, banks stopped lending because they’d run out of money and the debtors were defaulting... The money halted and the system juddered to a standstill. Governments attempted to prop it up, but bits are still falling off all over the place. (You already know all this).
The going has got tough. So surely we should all imitate the bumper sticker and go shopping? Go be my guest, I won’t join you. Unless it’s something I actually need…. Which is where that pernicious power of justification comes in.
So: the rules are changing. If it’s not essential, like food, then it must be replacing something that needs replacement, like clothes, or serve a particular purpose for which nothing I currently own would be suitable. I don’t have an example yet, but I am absolutely sure I’ll find one soon. Probably something expensive as well.
The idea is to end up with some space in my cupboards, on my bookshelves, some time freed up from things I don’t need or want to do, and a closet containing clothes I can and do wear. So far I’ve not been very good at it, but it’s a work in progress. Insulating myself from destitution, should my job vanish and not reappear, is a potential perk if I can get this right.
The idea is to end up with what I actually use and need and want to be comfortable, with none of the complicated and extraneous bits and pieces and mental fluff that takes up too much time and effort and results in this urge to jack it all in and go riding.
Simplicity, not minimalism. Knife + peeler, not one fancy complicated mulit-functional gizmo. And I guess hard drive, not the Cloud. It’s simpler, after all.
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