“If you want a golden rule that
will fit everything, this is it:
Have nothing in your house
that you do not know to be useful
or believe to be beautiful.”
William Morris
We live in a society in which people often judge others, and themselves, by their accumulation of wealth and possessions. Affluent people tend to live in upscale homes in desirable neighborhoods. These homes often include amenities which are not found in most homes — three-car garages, swimming pools, jacuzzis, tennis courts, home theaters, game rooms, and enough bedroom space to accommodate a family of a dozen or more. It is common for the residents of these types of homes to drive high-end automobiles with easily-recognizable logos. And the neighborhoods where such homes can be found are usually places where it’s safe to walk around at night without fear of becoming a victim of crime. What a blessing for those who live there! I am truly happy for anyone who can afford such luxury.
Of course, the percentage of people I know who live in such dwellings is minimal. Sure, I have a few wealthy friends, but none of them flaunt what they have. They all seem to recognize that their economic status is a gift, hard-earned though it may have been, and they seem truly grateful for all they possess.
I grew up in a blue-collar family. In my early years, my Dad worked three jobs to enable him and my mother to put my siblings and me through Catholic schools. We didn’t always get everything we wanted, but my parents managed to provide everything we needed and some of what we wanted.
When I made the decision to devote my life to teaching in Catholic schools, I was well-aware that it meant choosing a lifestyle which would not allow me to enjoy some of the finer things in life. Despite this, however, I have always been able to provide, for myself and for my family, everything we’ve ever needed. Some people in my situation might be tempted to compare their lives with others — most always, with those who have more material possessions. That seems to be a very common human response. We look around at what other have and we feel deprived. I don’t think I have ever experienced this feeling myself.
Just as I developed an interest in and focus on the importance of gratitude in one’s life prior to gratitude becoming a trendy thing in society, I had committed myself to living a life of minimalism long before minimalism became a trendy lifestyle. Perhaps, if my economic status had been different, I might not have embraced minimalism as a lifestyle choice, but that’s how things turned out — and for this, I am grateful.
Since purchasing my first car, a used 1972 Volkswagen SuperBeetle, in 1976, I have owned six cars. Only one was purchased new from a dealership. In November 1984, I bought a 1985 Honda Accord. It served me well until I was rear-ended in April 1991 and the car was determined to be a total loss. Since that time, I’ve had four other vehicles, all either purchased second-hand or gifted to us. They all served us well.
Our home, a modest three-bedroom, two-bath condominium, has provided adequate shelter for us for more than thirty-five years. The living room is filled with, for the most part, second-hand furniture we inherited from family members. Our dining room table used to belong to my parents’ neighbors in San Francisco. The furniture in our main bedroom was purchased in 1981, three years before I met Kathy. And even here in my home office, I have almost entirely second-hand furniture — a desk from Bellarmine College Prep, two bookshelves that were in my brother’s room in Los Altos prior to his move to Rome, and a recliner my mother gave us when she moved into her senior living community in Mountain View. All of this serves me well, and I’m grateful for everything I have.
While I’ve embraced a minimalist lifestyle throughout my entire life, many people I know are now doing the same. It seems that once we hit a certain age, we find that we are significantly less impressed with material possessions and actively seek ways to simplify our lives. I think this is a good thing. I most certainly don’t feel deprived.
[Image courtesy of Sister Terry Davis, SND]