Minimalist self-loathing in three easy steps

Step One: Take an idea that might be good and useful.

Step Two: Boil it down to its most visible element, allowing good and useful subtleties to evaporate.

Step Three: Compare yourself to what you see, taking care to beat yourself up thoroughly when you don’t measure up.

It’s easier than you think.

And we do it more often than we realise.

We do it with our bodies.

We do it with our stuff.

We do it with our work in the world.

But…

Your body doesn’t care what that other person looks like. Your body just wants to be stretched and moved and treated like the extraordinary instrument it is.

Your stuff doesn’t care if that guy can fit everything he owns in a shoebox. Your stuff just wants to be the stuff that lights you up and supports you.

Your work doesn’t give a damn how many blog readers they’ve got. Your work just wants you to show up. Please.

Your body, your stuff, your work – none of these things are your enemy.

You are not your enemy.

And if you want to make changes, you get to do so with respect and care.

As an act of generosity, not deprivation.

As a gesture of love, not punishment.

Because everything can be an opportunity to practice kindness, just like everything can be an opportunity to reinforce brutality.

Hmmm. Tough call.

What about you, my lovely?

Are there places where you’re confusing the thing that’s visible with the thing that’s good and useful?

Are there ways you could shift deprivation into generosity? Punishment into love? Gently does it.

Related goodness:

When I read Lianne’s exquisite, thoughtful post about the dark side of decluttering, I nodded a lot. Powerful.

Colin (who can almost fit his stuff in a shoebox) wrote about minimalism in a way I like a lot. Hint: You get to keep stuff if you want to because the stuff is not the point. Yes.