Editor’s Note: This is a guest post from Patrick of PatrickRhone.com. I’ve been begging Patrick to write something for Becoming Minimalist for years. I’m grateful that he finally did.
$18,685.00
I’ll never forget that dollar number. The year was 2003. I had gotten laid off from my job at a software company when they decided to close the local office. I was on vacation when it happened. There was no warning.
On the way home, driving back, I got a call from the President of the company. He gave me the news. Said it was effective immediately but I’d receive some severance. He said it was a hard decision and he wished me the best. I was a full time single dad to two boys. I had a home, a minivan, and all of the normal costs of supporting a family of three.
Still, I had a plan. Before the layoff, to make ends meet, I had been doing some technology consulting on the side. I had a handful of clients and enjoyed helping them a lot. They seemed to appreciate me and were recommending me to others. It had long been a dream of mine to build my own business, work for myself, and do consulting full time. So, when I found my paycheck job gone literally overnight, I took it as a sign.
I had the severance—about six weeks pay—and a little bit of savings. I gave myself a deadline to see if I could chase that dream. I marked it on the calendar. I had exactly one year to stick it out and give it a shot—to see if I could build something that could feed my sons and I and keep a roof over our head. Only after that year, giving it all I had, would I then try to find another job.
That dollar number above is the gross total of what I made. Not the net. Not after taxes. That was it. Between August 2003 and August 2004 that was my gross income for a family of three.
That’s how I became a minimalist.
It wasn’t a choice. It wasn’t a grand statement on our consumerist culture and not wanting to run forever on the capitalist hamster wheel. I didn’t have credit cards because my credit was ruined by financial misdoings during my marriage. I didn’t want them either, but not for lofty reasons. Mainly because I was now very wary of them.
It wasn’t my love of simplicity and rejection of the tyranny of choice. I was broke and hungry and scared out of my wits that the heat would get turned off, our home taken away, the car repossessed, and I’d lose my sons because I couldn’t take care of them.
To be honest, I’m still not quite sure how we survived without any of that happening. That year is still very much a blur. I’m sure I blocked a lot of it out.
I know there were many days I only had one meal in order to make sure my sons had three. They got free breakfast and lunch at school, so I only had to worry about having enough money for dinner. I know there were times when friends would invite us over for dinner, without saying they knew how bad I was struggling to make ends meet. I became a ninja at cherry-picking sales at the grocery store and coupon cutting. I learned that, if you call phone and electricity companies before your bill is overdue, and explain your situation, they are more likely and able to work with you to figure something out than if you do so after it’s due. I can’t explain how the mortgage got paid. It did, somehow. Magic, perhaps.
We made it through. Exactly one day after my one year deadline I had two job offers immediately. Both for very good money. One with better benefits. I took that one.
Even though I then had a steady job and more than enough money to go back to business as usual, I had learned during that hard year how to live on very little. It had taught me a valuable lesson—the difference between want and need. And, while I now could afford to eat three meals a day like my sons, while we were no longer living in poverty, I had no desire or reason to spend money on anything we didn’t need or that didn’t add true value to our lives. That same ethos remains with me today.
So, why am I telling you all this? Well, I think we who consider ourselves minimalists, or those of us who are striving to be, need to be mindful of how we talk about it. We need to keep in mind that the very fact that you have the power to *choose* and decide what is enough for you and live with less, means you are in a position of privilege.
To many of us, choosing to “live simply” is to others living in poverty and they may not have a choice. We should be mindful of this when we talk about it to others because, many times, we come off sounding like elitist jerks.
Look, I get it. You’re happy about how a choice to live with less has made your life less stressful. You’re proud of the money you’ve saved or how you live debt free. You’ve made a life where you’re sure everything you own has value and the life you live is full of meaning and you want to share that with as many people as you can. You’re excited. It’s OK. You have reason to be. I’m simply trying to say there should be a level of understanding of what a privilege it is to be able to have such a life when we talk about it.
The desire should be to help others consider such choices, if they have the ability, for themselves and to have compassion for those without. We should live our lives in such a way that strives to provide others with the same opportunity to enjoy such privilege.
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Patrick Rhone writes on the blog Patrick Rhone. I should also mention that he has been highly influential in my personal pursuit of minimalism and I have referred to his fabulous book, Enough, on countless occasions.
Erin says
Hello everyone – I am new to this community and am enjoying reading these articles and getting more inspired to be live a more “simple” lifestyle. One thing that comes to mind & I’d like to explore/discuss more is how one can actually be *very much* attached to things/materialism/consumerism *regardless* of income. If one is forced to live simply (i.e. make do without) because of financial challenges, that, in and of itself, does not actually make a person simple or possessing a healthy sense of detachment. Anyone can experience a spirit of covetousness, an unbalanced/insatiable desire for more or draw conclusions that more stuff will bring more happiness regardless of income. I guess what I am trying to say is that one can be in financial ruin and still be so completely attached to things as the source of happiness/pleasure and that one can be financially stable and spend money wisely, not just on “stuff” to be “happier.” If there are more ways to engage in this conversation or read about it I’d very much enjoy that!
Heidi Stephens says
Yes! Well said! I too was fairly forced into it & I so appreciate your giving voice to it.
Kathy from CT says
Wonderful article! Thank you for sharing your journey, painful as it must have been. Your boys are lucky to have such a loving parent.
Dominika says
Thank you for sharing. Article is so well expressed. I felt so many ways connected with your situation. My family were in a very similar situation couple years ago, where we couldn’t afford three meals and pay bills for our family of five. It was than when we ‘adapt’ simply living, rather than ‘choose’. But what we learn through our rough time stayed with us since than – having only necessities and embracing time with your own family. Finally somebody wrote about the people who actually did not have a choice but live simply and from than on embracing further.
Again thank you.
Jeri says
Wonderful article. A few years ago, I added up our average pay per year for our family. Over 8 years the average was $24,000 (our family went from 2 to 5 during that time). It was hard and there were some financially bad choices (blowing off steam is the best way to describe it. Now that we do make more money I’m trying to focus on using it to take care of me, not buy stuff. Because, like the author mentioned, when you don’t have enough money, its the kids who come first and doing anything for your self feels selfish.
Russell Stare, Taylorville Illinois says
Kudos to Patrick. He speaks a real truth that I learned three years ago following my divorce. She left me the house and an old van because my business sits on the property, and she voiced that she wouldn’t get any child support from me if the business closed. But that was her plan. Watch me flounder and slip and not be able to manage a two income setup on one income. But what started out as panic over losing my world and being a failure to my kids has evolved into the challenge of making the most of my life using the least. My kids are happier when they are here. They understand my challenges and don’t complain or gripe. My son summed it up one day telling me “you’re just cheap, dad.” You bet I am. If feels good not having the crushing weight of owing the world to creditors and trying to live beyond my means and keep up with the Joneses. Sometimes it’s still a struggle to have the house payment at the first of the month, but with the right mindset I always seem to get it done, even to the point of cashflowing a living room and bathroom remodel.
Annie says
Well said. I got on my high horse when I started trying to simplify my life and minimize my possessions. To be honest, I boasted about what I was doing. Then I stumbled on some books about how others lived, (survived, really), on far less than I ever had and my ego was knocked down a few pegs. Now, I will talk about my lifestyle if someone is curious, but I strive to keep a compassionate point of view and to remember I am lucky to have a choice.
Mark Huffman says
Great piece. I’m reminded of a slogan from the 70’s, that came out of the “Food First” efforts: “Live simply, that others may simply live.” Beyond our personal benefit (or necessity), there’s the “stewardship” level of minimalism that is so important to keep in our sights. I so appreciate Rhone’s pointing us in that direction!
J&D says
Profound and ego-checking. My husband and I are moved and it will keep us more mindful and humble of the privilege we have to choose this lifestyle. Thank you.
Christie Hawkes says
Beautifully said. Thank you for sharing. I definitely don’t consider myself minimalist, but I have started to carefully consider new purchases, no matter how small.