I don’t know where to begin.

This has been a few years coming. Back in 2014, or whenever it was, I was selected to be a deacon in my church. At that time, I walked the walk. I believed. The people of my church placed a great deal of trust in me, and rightly so, I guess. I was following God in all that I did. However, some time shortly thereafter, something changed.

As I prayed, a thought that was perhaps always present, but pushed to the side began asserting itself. “You don’t really believe all this do you?” That thought persisted, and only grew more amplified, especially the last few years as I witnessed how truly ugly and inconsiderate others in my faith could be. But I was no different. My life as it relates to faith started to become disingenuous, incongruent.

I even told our previous pastor during an altar call that I sometimes had to force myself to believe. I would push these thoughts to the back of my mind as I soldiered on, serving in whatever capacity I felt “called” to. I can’t keep it up anymore. Having to live  a double life is killing me.

I am a hypocrite.

There exists a pattern in my life. Any time I’m about to leave or make a big change in my life, without realizing it, I detach. I did this to my friends before I joined the guard. I did this to my family before OTS and deployment. It’s only when someone points it out that I even notice it. As I look back at the last couple of years, I have been doing that at church. I quit being the brotherhood director. I quit teaching in any capacity. During the pandemic, we stopped having Sunday evening and Wednesday night church. I haven’t returned to either of those since they started back up. I only show up Sunday morning to play drums. Sometimes I do IT work for the pastor. When church is over, I leave as quickly as I can, hoping not to have to talk to anyone. I have been detaching because I subconsciously saw this coming.

I even started thinking of how I could make a clean break. Was there anything of mine at church I would lament losing? Hahaha, I’m a minimalist now, of course there isn’t!  I kid. I really did grab my electric bass drum and bring it home, just in case I decided not to return.

Last night, after D&D, I had a conversation with a very dear, atheist friend of mine. I told him my feelings of being trapped in a religion I don’t really feel like I belong to. I spoke of how I’d been repressing my disbelief for a while now. I lamented having disappoint people who trust me. He came to the conclusion that I am an agnostic atheist. My initial, internal reaction to this was visceral. What an ugly thing to call me! Then I wondered, why is it ugly? By definition, I suppose that’s what I am. After all, if I’m being honest with myself, I must admit – I don’t believe in God. I have felt silly for such a long time trying to make myself believe. I’d never said it out loud before, nor heard myself referred to as such. What a relief.

I woke this morning with a fair amount of anxiety. I have a show with AoM tonight, an oh yeah, I just kind of half-ass admitted to having a completely different identity than I though I had.

I decided to meditate. I put in my air pods on noise cancellation and listened to water sounds in hopes of drowning out John’s cartoon watching. Some lyrics from Rush’s song “Mission” floated through my mind: “In the grip of a nameless possession, slave to the drive of obsession…. if their lives were exotic and strange, they would likely have gladly exchanged them for something a little more plain, maybe something a little more sane…” Though those words had little to do with my current crisis of faith, they resonated well with my journey toward a more simple life, a life from which I am removing everything that isn’t necessary. The meditative process temporarily alleviated the anxiety, and made me face, head-on, this decision I’d come to. If I don’t believe, then my faith is also not necessary.

But the anxiety came rushing back.

How am I to abandon the only community I’ve known since I came to this place? How do I break this to people who will be severely disappointed with me? How do I make people who trusted me not feel like they’d been had? There’s no easy way, so I’ll do what any 21st century middle aged man does. I’ll blog about it! Nobody I know is going to read it anyway, and if they do, then good.

If you know me from my life of faith, know this: I don’t want to talk about it. You’re likely not helping, just as these folks weren’t helping:

The deacon who told me a racist joke while we were cooking breakfast: You’re not helping

The deacon who jumped all over me for trying to take up for President Obama: You’re not helping

The church member (a deacon I think) who told our pastor we should vet people to make sure they’re not Democrats: You’re not helping.

The lady who I looked up to, who had a poster on her car for trunk or treat describing the presidential choices during the 2012 election as a choice between a “Mormon” and a “Moron”: You’re not helping.

The member of my Gideon camp who brags about telling pastors off who won’t give us a church service: You’re not helping.

I could go on for a while like this. I was already forcing myself to believe, and this shit wasn’t helping. I’m done. Who am I kidding, I’ll probably go to church tomorrow.

Tchotchkes

In the south we call them knick-nacks or what-nots. Regardless of the name, they are items that serve no functional purpose, and my shelves at work were laden with them. I’ve been on a roll getting rid of items from my life that don’t add value or serve a real purpose. Everything has been potential fodder for the chopping block lately. However, these particular tchotchkes proved somewhat problematic. I had an almost visceral response when contemplating removing these items from my life. Why? Well, because most of them had to do with Rush or Star Trek, two of my most favorite things in the whole world. The rest of the items were pictures of me and my family, items collected from events or special occasions, or art of some sort.

As an experiment, I decided first to box up all the Star Trek tchotchkes. I’ve been without them for two days, and do you know what? I don’t miss them. I’m probably going to sell them on ebay. This experiment paved the way for me to ditch a few more items from my credenza at work.

I scanned the covers of the magazines with Rush on them, I scanned the picture of Theresa and me at the Air Force Ball. I took photos of other sentimental items. After scanning or photographing the items, I got rid of them. Now the framed photos of my family are at the forefront. I have room to open my Rush and Depeche Mode tour books to pages with interesting photos on them. My old friend, Byron’s, sculpture is now in a position where it can be viewed and enjoyed.

Previously, I did the same thing to many of the items adorning the walls of my office. I decided to take it a bit further. I removed most of the framed certificates lauding my many accolades, leaving only the ones that are important to me – my bachelor’s degree from the University of Southern Mississippi, my Associate’s degree from the Community College of the Air Force, and my commissioning certificate from the Air Force. I scanned and discarded the rest.

While removing all these items, I came to a few realizations:

1. I’m still a huge Star Trek fan without the action figures and model ships.
2. Theresa and I still went to the Air Force ball in 2016, even if I got rid of the photo and commemorative glass.
3. The magazines with Rush and Neil Peart on them contained articles I can probably read online, and will like never read again anyway.
4. I still love Rush even without all the Rush stuff.
5. I’m still certified by CompTIA without the physical certificates. In fact, my company couldn’t give less of a crap that I am – they value my experience and contribution to their company.
6. I still ran the half marathon without the medal.
7. I still got ordained as a deacon without the certificate.
8. I still went to boot camp and tech school without the certificates – I’m no less a member of the Air National Guard without them.

In other words, those objects in no way, shape, or form define who I am, but rather, it is the experiences themselves that matter.

As I have stated before, the initial draw to minimalism for me was the aesthetic. Even long before that, as an art student, I enjoyed minimalist artists like Ad Reinhardt. In my current home, I have been able to minimize a few spaces – my kitchen, my dining room, my desk and my nightstand. These spaces are now beautiful/ Pretty much everywhere else in my home is a cluttery pigstye.

I’ve noticed I enjoy hanging out in those places more than ever now. Even though I hate laptops, I’d almost much rather hang out in the dining room on my laptop than the messy bedroom where my desktop is (its okay as long as I don’t look to the other side of the room). There is a certain serenity in a clutter-free space, a space that mirrors and serves almost as a metaphor for living a life with only what is essential.

I do catch myself hovering over these spaces, and being protective over them, catching any stray dishes before one of my family members carelessly leaves it lying about. I know I can’t hold a gun to their heads and force them to live more deliberately (well, I suppose I could… I do have a gun.. but that would be illegal). However, I do hope I can influence them with the way I am attempting to live. I hope they can see the beauty in a space that contains only what is needed.

Since I’ve gained my new-found good health, I’ve been scared to death of losing it, coddling it like a helpless infant. I really do not want to end up where I was last year. If one were to search the internet for health advice, one would find no shortage of advice both diverse and sometimes contradictory. There has been one saying that sticks out in mind that seems to go along with everything I’ve learned the last few months while I was getting healthy. I had to look up who said it before I cited it here. It was a guy named Michael Pollan who said, “Eat real food, not too much, mostly plants.” That seems to be the most sound advice I’ve seen on nutrition.

As I transition off of Optavia’s pre-packaged “fuelings” (nutritionally well-balanced snacks that you eat throughout the day along with a “lean and green” meal of your own making), I try to keep this sound byte on eating at the forefront of my mind. So far, it seems to be working.

So what is “real” food?

To my mind, real food is food that, when you look at it, is immediately recognizable. If it does come in a package, the ingredient list is short, and only contains natural things you’ve heard of – and sugar likely isn’t on the list. What do I mean by recognizable? This is broccoli, that is steak, these are beans, etc. I believe if I eat like that, applying the habits I learned on the program (eating 6 times a day every 2.5-3 hours, eating shortly after waking, sleeping enough), combined with exercise, I should be fine.

Here is an example of a typical day since I have begun my transition to real food:

Breakfast – 1 serving of oatmeal with blueberries, raisins, cinnamon, and raw nuts mixed in, sweetened with monkfruit sweetener.

Fueling 1 – Nonfat plain Greek yogurt with blueberries or strawberries cut up and mixed in

Lunch – Chili made with lean beef, tomatoes, beans

Fueling 2 – Peppers and hummus with small pieces of cheese on a triscuit. Celery and natural peanut butter.

Fueling 3 – Tomatoes with basil pesto and raw almonds.

Dinner – Lean steak with broccoli, zucchini, and asparagus.

The “Fuelings” in my list, are small snacks.

As it turns out, eating real food is satisfying and enjoyable. As long as I can keep in mind that food is fuel, not entertainment (a quote I got from The Minimalists), I should be able to maintain my new-found health indefinitely. My life depends on it!

 

In terms of my health, I have already been forced to define my “why”. What is my why for wanting to live a simple life? Below will be a rambling bulleted list:

– A long time ago, it was the minimalist aesthetic that attracted me. It loved the simplicity, but that isn’t enough.
– I want my house to be tidy. The perpetual mess we live in drives me crazy. It makes me want to leave.
– I have to realize that I contribute to the mess.
– The mess is often caused because we have so much shit. In our old house there was definitely a lack of places to put it.
– We wouldn’t need a place to put the stuff if we didn’t have it.
– The “why” has to be deeper than this. Something has been calling me in this direction for a long time. What is it?
– As I have learned to let go, I’m starting to get a slight intuitive sense of what is so attractive about it.
– I feel lighter, like there’s nothing in my way.
– I can take joy hanging out in spaces I used to avoid. I love sitting at the dining room table now.
– I have minimized in my home and my office. Both places are so much more inviting now.
– I can focus more easily. I can get things done for people right away.
– I’m tired of being broke.
– I’m always broke because of debt.
– I have debt because I use buying shit as a pacifier.
– I’ve caught myself on Amazon looking for a new thing to lust after just to kill time or quell boredom.
– I want to be healthy.
– I also used to pacify myself with bad food (especially candy, eaten an entire bag at a time), which costs money, which   makes me broke.
– I’m healthier now than I ever have been, but I feel like I’m one bad snack away from total relapse.
– Simple living means simple eating. Simple eating = purposeful eating = health.

So, in summation, I want to be a minimalist so I can be free from the tyranny of physical and mental clutter, free from the slavery of being broke, and free from the disease and death of being unhealthy. Otherwise, I’m but a moment away from total ruin if I keep things the way they always have been.

I won the 30 day Minimalist game.

Granted, it was easy because I was playing it alone. In fact, the title of the document where I tracked the items I shed is “Minimalist Game Solitaire.” I had to play alone because the others in my life have a very different mentality than I do regarding stuff. As such, I decided to lead by example. While I’ve received a tiny bit of push back, my wife and kids have been mostly supportive, and I’ve even noticed that the resulting tidying I have been able to do has become perhaps a little infectious.

I have shed more than the prescribed 465 items playing this game. Ninety percent of the stuff was donated to a local charity thrift store called Wings, which supports shelters for women seeking to escape abusive situations.The other 10 percent was actual trash or junk that I’m certain no one would want, so it went in the trash (also I made sure to dispose of military accouterments in a way that someone couldn’t make ill use of them) .

Not once I have I needed any of it since it has been gone, which has served to illuminate the mindless stupidity with which I used to consume things. No more! I will no longer turn to shopping or junk food to quell boredom or anxiety.

Now the vast majority of my things are truly my favorite things. Do I still have some stuff that needs to go? Yes, and now my muscle for letting go is properly built and ready for more. Below is an unedited list of the things I let go of.

Day 1 – Broken Unifi Security Gateway

Day 2 – 2 SNES games, and a bricked iPhone 7

Day 3 – Old video card, Cordless phone base, Old wireless mouse

Day 4 – Messed up DE hat, broken Xbox controller, Old wired mouse, ABU ABM wings

Day 5 – Gray pants, AF boots, Red Dobok, old Guild Wars 2 discs, Blue Patagonia jacket (too big)

Day 6 – Contents of shoe polish box, shoe polish kit, AF sand shirt, General hat, iMac Stand, mismatched bike pedal

Day7 – 7 DVDs and a whole bunch of empty DVD cases.

Day 8 – AF Boots, 3 ties, ribbon belt, crocs chukkas, LL Bean boat shoes, 5.11 Shorts

Day 9 – Gray Shorts, bean boots, brown belt, wal mart shoes, DE puma shirt, Airport express, old hard drive, light switch turner oner, broken xbox controller.

Day 10 – Snare mic clip, old costa case, flood light shroud, bag of old hinges, 4 laser discs, 5.11 shoes

Day 11 –  Well more than 11 DVDs, Stars and Stripes Magazine, costa case, several Gideon testaments, iPhone 4s, iPhone 5, Arab head dress, arlo camera,

Day 12 – 4 bags of wires, 1 bag of TV parts, blue suit, gray suit, black dobok, sand waffle shirt, blue underarmor sweater, broken light globe, old box of cigars

Day 13 – 3 Tesla Floor Mats, Old bike helmet, in wall tv cable thing, 2 bike tubes, old costa case, Wifi light switch, Three bags of old clothes and stuff totaling well over 13 items, old salsa bowl, Day 14 –  Minions backpack, little dog kennel, 3 lunch bags, carbon filter for old microwave, box of old screws, piece to lock, alarm clock, neck pillow, old wore out measuring cup, clothes line wire, flashlight.

Day 15 – 2 Pr Levi’s Jeans, 1 Pr Levi’s Khakis, Charging block, Old iPad cord, Electric shaver, Gray Hoodie, Trivia game, Mic Cord, little cord case, Blue Ethernet Cable, Orange Ext. Cord, Mario Kart 64, Black Ethernet Cable, Right Angle HDMI adapter.

Day 16 – 16 Books from my office

Day 17 – Khaki Shorts, Old Video Card, 15 empty CD cases

Day 18 – New set of bike brakes, Giro d’ Italia bike bottle, orange hat, warm up bands, my black shoes, john’s black shoes, UE Boom Speaker, 4 wii Games, 1 empty Wii game box, Star Trek Game, Rubik’s cube, Magic cards, 2 T-shirts, VV Polo shirt.

Day 19 – Tan Suit, BB Suit, Blue Blazer, 2 Charging blocks, 1 USB C to lightning cord, AF Bear, DR. Who plushie, Puzzle, 2 DVDs, 2 DVD case, 3 CD cases, Airport Express, Dell keyboard (new), corroded flashlight, goblet, HDD caddy.

Day 20 – 2 Amazon Echo Dots, 1 Amazon Echo Spot, charging brick, power inverter, air inflator, green ethernet cable, old ipad cord, phone cord, pee monitor, little first aid kit, measuring cup set, old tub of random screws, cowbell, 10/100 switch, 4 bowls, tie strap, tie

Day 21 – 2 Cycling Jerseys, 2 Cycling Shorts, Khaki Shorts, 4 ABU tops, 3 ABU Pants, ABU belt, 4 Blues Shirts, 2 Blues Pants, Sand Shirt,

Day 22 – 2 Baskets, broken VR thing, broken binoculars, vacuum filter, attachment for a vacuum we don’t have, xbox game, DVD case, DVD, old tablet, vacuum belt, whole food book, 7 mismatched vacuum attachments, bag, fanny pack, baseball glove.

Day 23 – AMD Sunglasses, Kid tunnel, Bike Pump, 2 Gun bags, Gun cleaning kit, old book jacket, Bluetooth speaker, 15 books from my office.

Day 24 – Well more than enough wires – nearly all the wires and adapters from the basket in the closet, my stereo.

Day 25 – Most of my T-Shirts, a bunch of the kids’ old clothes. All totaling over 25 items.

Day 26 – Mostly junk from my truck.. let’s see: 2 charging blocks, a cell phone case, tums (don’t need them anymore), phone cupholder thing, hell.. I don’t remember. It was 26 things.

Day 27 – UAE playing cards, UAE postcards, UAE puzzle, flashlight, 6 DVDs/cases, 6 books, 3 cables, UAE hat, old mic, usaf abu nametape, abu comm badge, another flashlight, single uae postcard, little drone

Day 28 – little mesh bag, Disney pin backs, little chip puller, random black string in a bag, DE hand sanitizer, pile of AoM business cards, eroica journal, phone screen protector, boot blouse, wifi dongle, benedryl, blue ethernet cable, usb splitter thing, Gideon testament, 2 lamps, abu hat, sand shirt, frying pan, pillow case, 4 spatulas, 1 tongs, 1 kitchen shears, 1 cake batter thing, 1 can opener

Day 29 – 2 Knives, wooden spoon, vegetable peeler, Ironing Board Cover. GA blue cup, essential oil diffuser, ladle, big spoon decoration, big fork decoration, Little water fountain, jeep keychain, broken piece of swiss army knife, little tin tea box, another costa case, yet another costa case, arlo charging block, camera case, gravis controller, N64 game, Dell Dock, wii controller, life book, bird plushie, Shoe Shine Kit, Star Trek Book, Nirvana discs, Remote to stereo

Day 30 – 10 books, Asus router, 2 PoE adapters (donate to work), 2 mousepads, wore out belt, old compressor, old nail gun, 11 pieces of kid’s clothing, a bowl, my big metal cup.

I am so scared

5 months ago, I weighed 260 pounds. It hurt to sleep. It hurt to sit for a long time. It hurt to stand for a long time. My knees winced at the prospect of descending the stairs in my new home. Running hurt. Cycling hurt. Taekwondo was embarrassing (at 260 pounds, I was a bit of an immovable object to the bony young people in my class).

What’s worse is being 260 pounds basically took any chance I had of passing my Air Force PT test down to zero. I was about to rack up my fourth failure in two years – a kiss of death for my 17 year career in the Air National Guard. The real tragedy would not have been giving up a commission that I had gone way out of my comfort zone to earn. No, it would have been tragic because I would lose my very affordable medical benefits – benefits that allow me to affordably care for my type 1 diabetic son.

It would have been tragic, but then, a solution presented itself. A Facebook friend from a Rush fan page who posts about being some sort of “health coach” posted a an old picture in his Army greens wearing Captain’s bars on his shoulders. He had been a fat captain like me. I reached out to ask about his photo, hoping he would talk to me again about the program he was peddling. Of course, he did!

In five months, I have, quickly but gently, lost 70 pounds. At month 3, I took my PT test, and scored a 94 – an excellent! The only excellent I have ever gotten on my PT test.

My military career is safe for now, but I am scared. I look freaking awesome, but I am scared. I can fit clothes I’ve not been able to fit for 15 years, but I am scared.

While on this program, I learned what healthy eating looks like. The weight loss portion of the program uses some nutritionally very well-balanced pre-packaged foods to make it easy. The next step is a transition back to eating more regular food, then maintenance. The maintenance is what scares me.

My coach suggests that becoming a coach on the program helps people maintain their new healthy lifestyle by forcing to lead by example. I’m sure it works. I tried it briefly, but it’s not for me. I don’t have the time to be effective at it, and some of the cheerleader/salesman tactics don’t align with my values. I’ll have to find accountability elsewhere.

I don’t want to ever gain that weight back. I want to get even healthier. I must! I must never return to eating like I did before. I must eat real, natural foods by default. I must not ever, ever, ever, ever even take one bite of candy. That would be like a recovering heroin addict shooting up just once for old time’s sake.

One side-effect of my health journey is that some of the strategies they taught on the program have allowed me to be more effective at another journey I have embarked on – minimalism. The more I learn about minimalism, the more I am finding out that healthy eating and movement align perfectly with the message of simple living.

I know how to do this. I’m doing it now. Can I keep doing it? God, I hope so, because the alternative scares the shit out of me.

 

Our dishwasher sometimes won’t turn on. It’s not even that old. We actually moved it from our old house when we moved last year because we liked the way it looked compared to the perfectly functional one that came with our new place. Even in the old house, it sometimes wouldn’t turn on. We have turn off the breaker to it for an indeterminate amount of time, and hopefully, it will work when we flip the breaker back on. Hopefully.

Recently, the dishwasher was dying mid-cycle. This started me thinking about having to replace it. Of course any old dishwasher won’t do. If we replace it, we need the expensive one that matches our new stove. Or do we?

Maybe we don’t need a dishwasher at all.

When I was reading about Ryan Nicodemus’ 21 day minimalism journey, he mentioned only unpacking the dishes he needed. He noted the dishwasher takes an hour to wash a load, or if he washes his own dishes right away, it takes about five minutes. That got me thinking.

As it turns out I have four dishwashers, and my dishwashers have names – Marcus, Theresa, John, and Jesse.

My dishwasher (the mechanical one) actually takes 3 hours to wash a load. Many times there will be a load washing, and a sink full of dishes waiting to be washed. It will be time to eat and we will have no dishes. Worse, we often live out of the dishwasher rather than put our dishes away. This causes our kitchen to be extremely untidy.

As such, I decided to do an experiment. I implored my family to discontinue use of the dishwasher for the forseeable future, and instead we will wash our vessels and utensils immediately after we use them.

While I was at it, I put away everything except what gets used regularly – microwave, coffee maker, toaster. Everything else had a home in a cabinet somewhere. I also organized the dishes and cookware. Since while were moving, we were also renovating, all the kitchen items that are in the kitchen are ones we actually use. I made sure everything has a place, and I made sure I showed everyone where everything goes.

Thus far, our new method for dealing with dishes has improved things drastically. Granted, I’m not as “busy” as my wife or kids, so I often end up dealing with the dishes. However, dealing with them in small chunks is a hell of a lot easier than dealing with loading and unloading a gigantic load from the dishwasher. Plus, it is supremely gratifying to have a space in my home that is minimal and beautiful!

Recently, I went further into debt buying an iPhone 12 mini. I had an iPhone XR. My justification was so my son could have my XR to replace his iPhone 7, and so I could have something smaller. Some questions:

1. Why the hell did my 13 year old kid need a newer phone?
2. Why the hell did I need a new phone. The one I had was far from being obsolete.

Okay, so really only two questions… This isn’t the first time I’ve done this sort of thing.

I’m going to have to tread a very fine line with technology if I am to be a minimalist. You see, my life-long hobby, my passion, and my profession is implementing and caring for computers and their associated paraphinalia. As such, I have a very difficult time reigning in my inclination toward accumulation of technology. Likewise, I find myself assigning value to things like cables, adapters, and defunct computer parts where there actually exists none.

Considering my passion/profession along with my new-found desire to live a more simple life, I feel like it might be necessary to implement some rules by which to live, specifically regarding technology. Here are some I’ve been pondering:

1. At work, I make my users keep computers for at least 7 years. I must do the same in my personal life. Likewise;
2. I must keep and use my computer until it falls off the Hardware Compatibility List (HCL) for the latest operating system (OS).
3. I must not upgrade my phone until it falls off the HCL for the latest OS.
4. I must not keep cables and adapters for things I do not have anymore.
5. I must not keep mounts and screws for hardware if they don’t apply to my situation.
6. I must minimize obsolete hardware (like old video cards and such).
7. I must only keep enough cables/adapters/chargers for the things I actually have and use.
8. I must not own two of anything (like two PCs, etc.).
9. Any adapter or cable can be replaced at nearly a moment’s notice.
10. I don’t need stereos or speakers because I use Homepods.
11. I don’t need a tablet. I have a PC and a phone.

Lastly, I need to treat technology as it was intended to be – a tool. A thing to be used, and not a thing which uses me.

For more than 10 years now, I have felt a strong desire to become a minimalist, a desire I have revisited again and again to little or no avail. However, I hailed from the false presumption that Minimalism was simply about getting rid of a bunch of stuff in an effort to be less cluttered. Recently, I decided to indoctrinate myself to minimalism by consuming vast amounts of material from the guys over at theminimalists.com. In doing so, I have discovered what minimalism is actually about, and it is so much more desirable than just a tidy living space.

As it turns out, The Minimalists’ teachings have a few things in common with a health program I’ve been on called “The Habits of Health.” On this program I have lost 70 pounds in less than 5 months. In both cases, I’ve learned that in order to be successful in any endeavor, I need to define my “why.” Why am I doing this? Why am I here? What brought me to this point? Where my health is concerned, my weight was getting dangerously close to ending a 17 year military career in the Air National Guard – a career that I have worked very hard for, and which provides my family with benefits we absolutely need. That was my “why” for improving my health.

Through listening to The Minimalists podcast, I got to hear what led these two guys, Josh and Ryan, to their current simple, intentional life. I got to hear their “why.” Doing so led me to ponder why I might want to live life with less and what path might lead me there.

As a catalyst to spark my transition to this new way of life, and to help me define why I want to live more simply, I decided to play the 30 Day Minimalism Game.

The game is simple, you get rid of one thing on day one, two things on day two, three things on day three, and so on. By the end of the game you will have gotten rid of 465 items. You’re supposed to play with someone, but I don’t know anyone who would be willing. I’m on day 24, which means I’ve gotten rid of 300 items (actually more because there have been a few times I got rid of a ton of literal junk while looking for items to donate). As an exercise in highlighting the superfluous nature of the items I was clinging to, I have been keeping a list, which I’ll post here when I’m finished with the game.

One thing I’ve noticed while playing the #minsgame is how much stupid, pointless shit I’ve bought. I remember being excited to get all of it, but that excitement was fleeting. Soon the stuff became a burden, taking up space in my home and in my mind. I’d find myself lamenting not getting around to using all of it. What I lament even more is now looking at the massive amount of debt I’ve accumulated buying some of this stuff.

Another thing that has been illuminating during this process is how I’ve started to develop a keen sense for what really adds value to my life. As I approach axing 300 items from my life, the things that remain are all my favorite things. They’re the things I use all the time. They’re the things which allow me to pursue my passions.

As I remove the excess items from my life, I’ve also developed a strong facility for letting go. Just a moment ago, a co-worker mentioned needing to return a Macbook I let her borrow (one of my personal ones) when she was out with COVID. I said, “do you want it? What do I need with a fourth computer? If you like it, it’s yours.” She seemed pretty stoked. This muscle for letting go which I have been developing has caused me to effortlessly let go of tons of unneeded stuff I’ve been hanging onto for years.

By far, the biggest lesson I am learning is that minimalism is about living more intentionally, which as it turns out, is so much better than simply tidying up! It is my hope to use my blog to lay bare my thoughts during this journey in hopes that they may aid someone else on theirs.