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.
Eve says
Thanks Patrick. Great article. I’ve been living on less for much of my life. Mama instilled in me the desire to stretch money as far as I could. Even when we could afford more, other than craft supplies???? I would choose thrift store or salvage store. But don’t think poor people can’t clutter up their life with thrift store, used, & freebies. I have to be mindful of the freebies people try to give me & not take them just because they are free. I’m trying to live in a simple way. It just happens to be cheap to do that.
Patti says
I don’t usually comment, but I just had to on this article. While I have recently started on the minimalism path and have a desire to be debt-free, that is far from a reality. I feel that many in the minimalism camp wear their debt-free status as a badge and look down at those of us who aren’t in a similar position. The author’s term “elitist jerks” is quite accurate.
Eric says
Thank you!
I was heading towards the ‘braggy’ aspect; good to know!
Jules says
Love this.
Jamie says
This may be my absolute favorite post ever on your blog. Just bought Patrick’s book so I can read more. This theme…choice vs. necessity…has often occurred to me when reading about minimalism. To have it illustrated by someone who has actually lived it in such an eloquent way is very inspiring.
Aimee says
Thank you so much for this post. I grew up in a family that poor and was in that situation again during the recession. It seems like most people don’t like having their privilege pointed out to them, but we all need to be reminded from time to time – even me.
Linda says
Great article! May I take it one step further? As we simplify, pare down on belongings, and cut back on spending, maybe this would be a good time to pay it forward by giving out of our new found abundance to those less fortunate and struggling. The receiving is then two fold. Those in need receive what they may be lacking and those who give receive the blessing of peace and joy that goes along with doing something good.
God Bless!
Angie says
This is fantastic. Thank you for speaking this truth.
Nicole says
This is an absolutely awesome post. I’ve been transitioning to minimalism over the past year, and it was prompted by my family moving to one income after we relocated. My husband didn’t find a job right away so we spent a lonnnnnnng time trying to manage a “two-income” lifestyle on one income. We exhausted our savings and investment accounts, and while we are thankful we had those in place, I was frustrated and stressed the entire time. After we exited that season of our life (my husband got a job), I realized that the things I learned and behaviors I have adapted because of that time was the purpose all along. It taught me to value moments and time vs “stuff.” We never reached the level that Paul describes in his post, but the principal is so relatable. It is indeed a privilege to be able to choose to live simply. I’m still on that journey as I sort out the clutter in my mind, first and foremost, and determine what is important to me (us). But I just wanted to share that I appreciate the thoughts behind this post and I can definitely relate. Thanks for sharing!
Nicole says
Sorry, I meant Patrick not Paul! :-)
Cait Flanders says
I’m so grateful you finally wrote about this topic, Patrick. Our brief discussion about it on Twitter made me believe you would have a very important message to share. You do, and I’m simply grateful you finally shared it. <3