Practicing minimalism lets things become apparent, because it gives them space to emerge. What one feels — emotionally and also physically — comes forth when clutter (of things, connections, commitments) diminishes.
In terms of physical items, I have noticed there's a category that could be designated as "ought to be useful (but isn't)".
Today's things to go are in that category.
Two pairs of yoga trousers. I don't practise yoga (though no doubt I should, it would be very good for me) but I thought these trousers looked like just my kind of thing. They are soft, stretchy, lightweight — seemed perfect.
I've had them for ages — years — and I never choose them. They are that bit flimsier than I like to wear during the day; they feel slightly immodest. They are that bit heavier than I like to wear as PJs; they feel slightly suffocating. I dislike the shade of grey that the grey pair is. They are a size too big for me.
I have kept them for ages because they are so obviously useful and just right; except it eventually dawned on me — no, they're not.
I noted the small inner sigh of relief in my wild being when they left the house.
I find, if one has lots of things, then items that ought-to-be-useful-but-aren't can shelter unnoticed in their midst. It's only as one starts to trim everything out so that only what is necessary can stay (and "favourite" is a happy category of necessary) that superfluity announces itself for what it is. Minimalist practice encourages what you have to own up to its true identity.
No comments:
Post a Comment