The Joy of Minimalism. Zoey Arielle Poulsen

I made the decision moving forward that from then on in my life, I would only acquire good quality pieces.

      The next chapter of my life was moving to the big city of Toronto. The new city, the new way of life, and the corporate climbing around me made me feel I needed to obtain a new level of business clothes. Swipe here, swipe there—the plastic was getting hot as I went for quality over quantity, yet I still felt I needed to obtain a lot of it: What would people think if I wore the same blazer twice in one week?

      The truth was and is: it does not matter.

      Whether or not a new style was expensive, somehow I felt I needed to obtain it for my collection to feel good and successful, when really, I was just contributing to financial stress in my life. The more I thought consciously about my shopping habits, the more I found going to the mall tiresome. The further I got into the marketing world, the clearer the illusions became, and I began to feel overwhelmed by all the marketing going on around me. I also realized the only time I seemed to want to go to the mall was when I had had a mediocre day at work, because a new lipstick or new shirt was sure to fix my day and my unfulfilling corporate position, wasn’t it? Unfortunately, mediocre days at work occurred all too often.

      From the discomfort of my desk, I yearned for adventure every day. I wanted to hop on a plane back to Europe and indulge in the beauty of culture: art, food, language, etc. Although these thoughts were on my mind daily, I didn’t quite make the connection that that was how I would personally achieve lasting, fulfilling happiness.

      Europe felt more and more out of my reach as I continued to suffocate myself in my limiting beliefs: “You can’t move there, it’s impossible”; or “You have built too much of a life here to leave it”; or “Who are you to quit your job?”

      I yearned to rediscover my lust for life, shed my limiting beliefs about my potential for happiness, and buy that plane ticket.

      It was in my darkest voids that I realized it was my baggage that was literally weighing me down, baggage in the sense of having a fully furnished apartment, student loans, and a whole lot of things—or for lack of a better word, “junk.”

      Minimalism was then and still is an inward journey, a journey that was necessary for me to discover myself and what sparks joy within my soul. The journey has inspired and still inspires me to take my life to the next level every day. It gave me the ability to rekindle my lust for life and allowed me to follow my adventurous dreams.

      “Rock bottom was the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.”

      — J.K. Rowling

      By no means does one have to hit rock bottom to bring themselves to discover minimalism and the joy the journey brings, but one does have to do the internal work. This “work” refers to the daily exercises we all know we should do, but can’t seem to fit it into our schedules: journaling, meditation, fitness, etc. If journaling takes only five minutes per day or meditation takes ten, why do we find this so difficult?

      If you want a radical change in your life, you need to do the work required to take that internal journey.

      Perhaps it is so easy for us to swipe our credit cards for a possession because someone else created it, and we did not have to put any of our own time into the idea or manufacturing process. We so willingly and easily incorporate material possessions into our existence, but find it so difficult to identify within our own souls what sparks joy within. When you think about this from an outside perspective, it doesn’t make any sense, because investing in the creation of the future we most desire deserves our undivided attention. Who doesn’t desire a life without financial stressors, clutter, or excess baggage? The inward journey is needed in order to recognize this and make it happen.

      When I finally recognized my low point for what it was, I was able to identify what I had been trying to mask with possessions and clutter all along: I wanted to be in Rome, Italy.