Minimalist at Heart

I am a minimalist. The older I get, the more evident it becomes. Over the past two years especially I have become increasingly fascinated by the idea of living with the bare minimum. I love visualizing a new home for Matt and I with only the bare necessities and our most treasured possessions in it. Or planning a trip someplace exotic (in my head unfortunately) and imagining I can only pack a day bag for a week long trip. I hate the idea of accumulating more than I need, or of collecting things I only use once a year, like holiday decorations. Anything I own that doesn't contribute to my daily life makes me feel weighed down. There really is something thrilling in the idea of living with less. Perhaps it is the idea of more freedom.

"Once you start to see through the myth of status, possessions, and unlimited consumption as a path to happiness, you'll find that you have all kinds of freedom and time. It's like a deal you can make with the universe: I'll give up greed for freedom. Then you can start putting your time to good use."
-David Edwards

I doubt I will ever be as a radical as Henry David Thoreau but my tastes are growing more and more extreme. I wish I could say that my reasons for pursuing minimalism were purely moral or even practical ones, but the truth is, I find it much more aesthetically pleasing. I despise extraneous details in favor of simple, clean lines. I think that empty spaces or nearly empty spaces are more beautiful than filled ones. I crave white washed walls and completely barren surfaces. I know some people will think that sounds cold, and that a space like the one I described would lack character, but I disagree- it's calming and edited with only what I absolutely love, thereby better showcasing my personal tastes- only clothes I love, art I love, furniture I love. So what I'm saying is, if you come to my (future) home and notice that it looks like I haven't unpacked- I probably have, the living room is only supposed to contain a sofa, a lamp, and a picture.