Category: AVARICE & ALMSGIVING & MINIMALISM

  • “Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.”

    —Henry David Thoreau, Walden

  • “I have found myself on top of the world when I felt within myself that I neither desire anything nor fear anything.”

    Saint Augustine

  • “A famous story, often retold, illustrates what is implied in being a pilgrim on earth. In the nineteenth century, a tourist from America paid a visit to the renowned Polish rabbi Hofetz Chaim. The tourist was astonished to see that the rabbi’s home was only a simple room filled with books, plus a table and a bench. “Rabbi,” asked the tourist, “where is your furniture?” “Where is yours?” replied Hofetz Chaim. “Mine?” asked the puzzled American. “But I’m only a visitor here. I am only passing through.” “So am I,” said the rabbi. We are all only passing through!”

    The Restless Heart: Finding Our Spiritual Home in Times of Loneliness
    Ronald Rolheiser

  • “Do not desire splendid clothing or grand houses, for tomorrow you will be clothed in a shroud and a coffin will be your house.”

    —St. Feofil of the Kiev-Caves Lavra, Leave the Vanity of This World

  • I have found, in my own life, that the wages of living only for oneself, living in the pursuit of pleasure or burning out oneself on the things of this world, are ones of unrest. Just when one thinks they have found peace in something, just when one is comfortable or feels contentment of a kind, the transient nature of all things is revealed. We lose our favourite things, we lose our jobs we thought were secure, our friends and family turn on us, pass away, forget about us; nothing ever seems to last. As one looks closer and closer at the world, it seems to me to be only a transient thing, a signpost that points somewhere else.

    It’s Easy to Give Up and Give In
    Anthony N

  • “If every man took only what was sufficient for his needs, leaving the rest to those in want, there would be no rich and no poor.”

    St. Basil the Great

  • “We ought to choose for our own use whatever is more easily and cheaply obtained in each locality and available for common use and bring in from a distance only those things which are more necessary for life, such as oil and the like or if something is appropriate for the necessary relief of the sick – yet even this only if it can be obtained without fuss and disturbance and distraction.”

    Basil the Great

  • “The goal of getting more is not to have more, but to give more.”

    Fr. Anthony Messeh

  • Of course it was difficult to let go, but I realized many things about our relationship between memories and possessions during the experience:

    I am not my stuff; we are more than our possessions.
    Our memories are within us, not within our things.
    Holding on to stuff imprisons us; letting go is freeing.
    You can take pictures of items you want to remember.
    Old photographs can be scanned.
    An item that is sentimental for us can be useful for someone else.

    I don’t think sentimental items are bad, or evil, or that holding on to them is wrong; I think the danger of sentimental items (and sentimentality in general) is far more subtle. If you want to get rid of an item, but the only reason you are holding on to it is for sentimental reasons—and if it is weighing on you—then perhaps it’s time to get rid of it, perhaps it’s time to free yourself of the weight. That doesn’t mean you must get rid of everything, though.

    Letting Go of Sentimental Items
    Joshua Fields Millburn

  • I found solace in simplicity. As I sold those few remaining pieces and began replacing them, I decided I would wear only four colors: black, white, gray, and blue. From now on, my clothes would feature no logos. No bullshit. Everything would be elemental. Streamlined. Stripped.

    Adopting a set of rules like this saved time and energy, and idiot-proofed packing. It also made my grotesque levels of accumulation almost impossible. If something didn’t work with the rest of my closet, it’d never slip past the front gates.

    Because I still loved fashion, and knew (to a fault) all the subtle distinctions of all the different labels, I thought carefully about the clothes that best represented my own true self. I decided I wanted two new pairs of plain jeans—black and blue. Two pairs of understated sneakers, some black boots, a cashmere crewneck sweater, a parka, a handful of white cotton tees, and a perfectly faded denim jacket. Plus one lone suit—black cotton, garment-washed—from the SoHo outpost of Aussie tailor Patrick Johnson.

    This assortment of 20 or so pieces could get me through eight months of the year. Since I’d have only a small pile of clothes, everything could be great quality. And I’d get to wear my favorite things all the time. No more standing in front of my closet guessing; I’d just get up, put something on, and go.

    There’d be no more costuming. No more pretending. Ostentatious clothes couldn’t protect me anymore, a fact that actually gave me strength. Maybe I didn’t need them to.

    I Surrendered My Wardrobe
    Sean Hotchkiss