New Yorkers have a reputation of being materialistic. And this just really isn’t fair. I can’t think of any group of Americans who have less stuff than New Yorkers.
My sister and I both currently have two children. My husband and two girls (one of whom has special needs) share a living space and “kitchen wall” with the other people we live with, and fit our summer and winter wardrobes, medical equipment, snowboarding equipment, car seats, toys, a playpen, and a sizeable library into an 11 by 17 room. The whole room transforms to a seating area for parties because our mattress actually rests on this convertible platform-thing that separates into two couches. And the room is actually quite pleasant to be in. If I were not so modest I might enter it in a Small Spaces Design competition, or something of the sort.
My sister, (who was horrified last year that we were bringing another child into the world because of our ‘space limitations’) rented a three level townhouse in Virginia she couldn’t afford because each boy had to have his own room. They have a play space in the basement, and a dining room that’s separate from the kitchen, that’s separate from the living room, that’s separate from the family room.
For millions of New Yorkers, a dishwasher, laundry unit (in the building—not in your apartment), and real closet space are considered luxuries not standard amenities. And, I am not the only person who would look at my sister’s master bedroom closet and think that I could turn it into a shabby chic office, a quaint infant’s nursery, or both. Most people, for most of history, have lived more like how my family lives than how my sister’s family lives; they’ve lived from relational rather than material priorities. The truth is, when you don’t have the space to store a lot of stuff, you realize how little stuff (and space) you actually need. And once you don’t have a lot of stuff, it becomes obvious how much better your life is without it.
Material possessions are a leading cause of strain on American families today. The effects reach much farther than the much talked about psychological strain caused by debt and clutter. Most of us are profoundly out of touch with how our material possessions drain our vitality, time, and resources. If we were to take a historical perspective, it’d be obvious that most Americans live on estates. And the obvious problem with that is, that unlike most historical estates, most Americans do not have servants. It seems to me that people should either limit their material possessions to an amount that they can reasonably maintain, store, care for, up-keep, and organize, or they should acquire servants. Yes, I’m serious.
We spend our weeks earning money to buy stuff, and our weekends acquiring, cleaning, organizing, and maintaining stuff. And how many arguments in families have to do with our material things? Most of the frustrations in my family usually sound like this: “Put your socks {toys, books, dishes} away!” “Have you seen my ______?” “Why did you buy another _____ {usually for me its another pair of shoes}?” “When are you going to fix the ______?”
Perhaps I belabor the point. What is for certain is that a severely disproportionate amount of resources are spent on material pursuits: we sacrifice our imagination, our time, our emotional and relational energy, our peace, our creativity.
The opportunity costs are staggering. We neglect and marginalize the life of the mind, our spirituality, our families, our community involvement, and the millions of ways we could be creative and express identity apart from material acquisition. Not even when we have abundance does our life consist of our possessions. And yet we continue to buy and consume and hoard. Because, of course, we can never have enough of what we really don’t want. Perhaps it’s time more of us took a metaphysical free-fall into asceticism and started buying, owning, keeping—less.
Categories: General
While I agree with the sentiment wholeheartedly, I don’t at all agree that living with less means that people come to think they need less. I’ve known far too many people who moved to a larger home, or gained a larger income, and apparently said to themselves “FINALLY I can fill it up with stuff!”
I’ve followed this site for some time which gives great advice for simple living.
http://www.choosingvoluntarysimplicity.com
Thanks for this interesting post.
I agree, too many possessions become a burden. I live in a large house, but I share the house with seven other people; still, we’re not nearly as compact as you and your family! I hope you’ll post more about your living arrangements, and maybe overcome your modesty and post a photo of your room.
Life in a small apartment: link.
The one thing I would not be able to give up is a room with a door I can close. Being able to have privacy again is the reason above all else that I would never have another child.
[...] Destress by owning less stuff and living in smaller spaces with more people. [...]
Love, love your post! While we don’t live nearly as compactly as you do, I do often appreciate that my husband and I share similar values of keeping things small and manageable. We have what we can clean ourselves (house and yard), one car (suburban lifestyle), and precious little storage space which forces us to pare down constantly. My children will get lots of pictures from their childhoods and otherwise one “baby box” of their mementos, each.
In our area many people live with much larger houses and more cars. Some of them are my friends and I certainly respect their choices. But I’m glad we don’t have to hire anyone to help us take care of our stuff, and sometimes, just sometimes, there is actually an hour or two on the weekend when the children are tended and the stuff has been tidied, cleaned, organized, insured, fixed, replaced, etc, as needed, and we can… read a book.
Thanks for this great post, Stephanie. I especially like your point about the staggering opportunity costs of spending so much time acquiring and maintaining material things. I remember a few months ago I was obsessed with checking out the Sunday ads to see what was on sale, what coupons I could clip etc. While this is a good practice, I found that I was stressing way too much over making sure that I got to the store that had the best prices on each item that I wanted. I decided to stop spending so much time shopping around, and it’s been amazing to see that so much of what I would buy b/c it was a great deal, is really just extra stuff that it’s entirely possible to live without. Now I can relax more on the weekends, read, and spend time with my husband and friends.
So often we think stuff helps us master nature, but I think it ends up mastering us.
“We spend our weeks earning money to buy stuff, and our weekends acquiring, cleaning, organizing, and maintaining stuff. And how many arguments in families have to do with our material things?”
Amber and I have spent a lot of our spare time in the last two weeks trying to figure out how to clean, organize, and maintain our stuff–and in so doing, figuring out that we have to acquire more stuff (e.g. big Ikea shelves) to do that! And along the way, having more than one argument about all this stuff.
All this reminds me of a book written in the late 70′s by E.F. Schumacher called Small is Beautiful. It’s a great book–you should check it out if you haven’t already.
I am really uncomfortable with the premise that having more space and more stuff is always more stressful. I certainly believe that YOUR life is better in a small apartment with few possessions. You know your own experience best, and this lifestyle clearly brings you contentment. For some people, it would be a strain.
Having my own bedroom does not increase my stress. It makes my life easier and more comfortable. Having the option of doing laundry whenever I want (and of leaving it to soak in the machine while I sleep or go to work) does not increase my stress. Having enough clothes that I can put off laundry to a day when I’m less busy, or in less pain…that’s another way having more stuff can make my life less stressful. Having less storage space in my home limits my ability to buy in bulk–for things like toilet paper, it’s an additional source of stress to make sure I don’t run out, and the price differences for food can end up being significant.
My main point is that having enough space and enough stuff is good for my physical and emotional health.* Not having that space is really bad for my peace of mind. (It’s not just me. “A room of one’s own” is good for a lot of people.) There are often tradeoffs between the stress of living in a small space, and other kinds of stress. Lots of people decide it’s worth it to them to live in a small space to avoid a long commute, or live near a community that’s important to them, or to save their money for other expenses. That’s different from a small space being less stressful, of itself.
*We know what is “enough” for a person to survive, more or less. People need more than that to be healthy. People need different amounts. I’m not comfortable second-guessing somebody’s judgement of what he or she needs, even if it’s a lot more than what I need.