Sunday, March 2, 2008

The Soul of a Minimalist


At a museum once, standing in front of a recreation of a spare modern living room from the 1960's, I overheard a woman comment dryly, "Well, you'd always know where your car keys were." At the time, I probably rolled my eyes; as an art student, this was my general response to my-kid-could-do-that reactions from the hoi polloi. As I thought about it, though, I realized that this dismissive observation had actually touched on one of the tenets of minimalist design: that a pared-down space makes you more aware of the world around you. Yes, you always know where your keys are--and how beautiful that single flower is, how delicious that perfect peach, how sublime that one note on the cello. Without all the clutter, what else is there to do but appreciate things?

Living in a minimalist environment is not really an option for me: I have two young children and am married to an eccentric bibliophile, and I actually like a little disorder. Still, while I may not apply the philosophy to my physical surroundings, it does inform my spiritual life. The ability to connect with God fully and immediately requires a peaceful internal space to which you can retreat when all else is chaos. A mind full of confusion can make it difficult to receive the wisdom--or comfort, or inspiration--that you seek.

It would be perfectly logical to imagine that spiritual minimalism requires a blank slate. After all, the first step to physical minimalism is getting rid of everything you own, right? In theory, perhaps. But nobody actually strips their possessions down to a Noguchi lamp and an Egg chair. The true key to minimalism is storage. You don't throw away all your unopened mail and cleaning supplies and sporting goods, you just find somewhere to stow them away. And so it is with spiritual clutter. It's not possible--or even desirable--to rid ourselves of the experiences we've picked up along the journey. These are the components of a healthy soul. But sometimes you need to put it all into storage, so that you can find a quiet place to be alone with God.

1 comment:

Jan VanStavern said...

Finally! I can talk back to God--and his blog. Spiritual minimalism seems. . . Eastern. Calming. And, difficult for a house with a kid and a lot of clutter.

And therefore more enormously delicious. J