Joshua Becker's Blog, page 109

The Most Underrated Sound in Our Society

A few months ago, my wife and I took our kids on a short weekend trip to the mountains. As we pulled out of our neighborhood and merged onto the four lane highway, we suddenly realized an important detail for the trip had been left undone.

Kim and I both assumed the other person was going to make the necessary arrangements. As a result, neither of us had accomplished the task. And now, the trip had already begun.

The problem would ultimately be fixed with a little extra time and money. But in the moment, our conversation abruptly ended. Tenseness ensued. And both of us stared silently out the windshield in disgust.

After a few short minutes, one little voice called out from the backseat, “Umm, are you guys ever going to talk again?” The silence had become unbearable.

I was reminded again how silence has become a difficult atmosphere in our society.

In our homes, we turn on our televisions. In our cars, we turn on the radio. When we exercise, we put on our headphones. Even when waiting in elevators or on hold with customer service, sound fills the void.

It seems we have become uncomfortable with the very presence of silence in our lives. We speak of “awkward silences” in a room full of people. We fear that brief moment when we meet someone new and aren’t quite sure what to say. And I remember being on countless dates growing up where any lapse in the conversation meant the entire relationship was doomed forever.

My family even pokes fun at me when I mute the television during commercials—as if the idea of sitting in quiet for 2 minutes is too long.

But in a world filled with noise, silence becomes even more important.

It is no secret we are bombarded everyday with countless messages.

Advertisements from every flat surface and frequency tell us what to watch, where to go, and what to purchase. Countless artists fill canvases, screens, and printed paper hoping to convince us of their worldview and beliefs. Political pundits from every aisle and experts from every imagineable field speak boldly about how we should proceed on the most important issues of our time.

Meanwhile, silence quietly calls for our attention. Because only in extended periods of solitude, can we rediscover our hearts and the voice of timeless wisdom in our lives.

The benefits of silence and solitude in a noisy world are significant and life-giving. In quiet moments of reflection:

We remove the expectation and influence of others.
We hear our heart speak clearly.
We reflect on our past and chart our future.
We find rest and refreshment.
We break the cycle of busyness in our lives.
We become better equipped to show patience and love to others.

While anyone can experience silence at any time by finding a quiet place to sit for an extended period of time, I have found solitude does not occur naturally in our noise-centered world. It must be intentionally pursued by each of us.

But for it to be pursued, it must first be valued and desired.

Be reminded of the importance of silence and solitude. Make its presence a habit in your life—both in small ways and in big ways. You’ve got nothing to lose. And your whole life to gain back.

Inspiring Simplicity. Weekend Reads.

Never underestimate the importance of abandoning crap you don’t need.

Encouragement is important in all areas of life, but especially when trying to live a life different than those around us.

Encouragement provides us with motivation to persevere. It invites us to dream dreams of significance for our lives. And it begs us to work diligently with optimism and promise.

Overcoming the pull of consumerism is a difficult challenge regardless of our stage in life. Simplicity requires encouragement. To that end, I hope you will find motivation in these articles below.

Each post was intentionality chosen to inspire simplicity in your life. For maximum effect, find a quiet moment this weekend and enjoy them with a fresh cup of coffee or tea.

How to Program Your Mind to Stop Buying Crap You Don’t Need | LifeHacker by Patrick Allan. If you struggle with clutter, impulse buys, and buyer’s remorse, here’s how to put your mind in the right place before you even set foot in a store.

The Cost of Paying Attention | The New York Times by Matthew B. Crawford. Attention is a resource; a person has only so much of it. And yet we’ve auctioned off more and more of our public space to the highest commercial bidder.

Why I Put My Closet On A Diet (In 6 Simple Steps) | Refinery 29 by Drew Barrymore. “We have to make space in our minds for bigger and better things.”

I Bought Nothing New For a Year | ABC Open by Sash Milne. “It occurred to me this project was actually about something bigger. It was about building community.”

A Brewing Problem | The Atlantic by James Hamblin. “I don’t have one. They’re kind of expensive to use” —John Sylvan, K-Cup inventor.

What We Appreciate Appreciates

This is a guest post from Cait Flanders of Blonde on a Budget .

“In the context of sufficiency, appreciation becomes a powerful, intentional practice of creating new value through our deliberate attention to the value of what we already have.” –Lynne Twist

I’ve spent the last four years writing about money and the role it has played in my life. I’ve written about how I got into debt, the day I realized I was maxed out, and how I dug myself out of the mess. It took two years of living on a tight budget, but I made my final debt repayment in May 2013 and I haven’t owed anyone a penny since.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean I had my spending under control. For the first year that followed, I spent money buying and doing all the things I couldn’t buy or do while paying down debt. I’d put myself on such a tight budget for those two years that I was convinced I’d been “living without” something during that time—so I spent a year searching for it.

I wasn’t living an extravagant lifestyle, per se. I was simply consuming more than I needed. There were stacks of books on my shelves I’d never read, outfits in my closet I’d only worn once, bottles of unused nail polish, and what looked to be a 5-year supply of pens and paper.

Shortly after my first anniversary of being debt-free, I looked at the small balance in my savings account and wondered what I’d been doing wrong. I was budgeting and blogging about money, why didn’t I have more to show for it? When I looked around my apartment, I realized it was a result of lifestyle inflation… and I wasn’t happy with the state of mine.

The stacks of books on my shelves were a constant reminder I had no time to read. The long forgotten clothes in my closet made me feel guilty for not getting a good enough cost-per-wear out of them. I even hated most of the nail polish colors, but felt like they were what grown-up Cait should wear.

I’d wasted hundreds, even thousands of dollars on stuff… and I didn’t even like most of it.

In a wave of inspiration, I started opening every closet, cupboard, and drawer in my apartment on a mission to get rid of anything I didn’t use or truly cherish. I filled bag after bag, and box after box, until almost every inch of my dining room floor was covered. After dragging it all downstairs, I filled my car with stuff, and still had to make two additional trips to the donation centre.

In the end, I removed 60% of the belongings from my home. And then, I put myself on a yearlong shopping ban so I wouldn’t bring in anything new.

I am only eight months into the shopping ban, but I can already tell you I will never go back to the type of consumer I was before—and that’s before considering all the extra money I’ve been able to save, which is just an added bonus.

I will never go back to being the type of consumer I was before, because living with fewer possessions has finally allowed me to see how full and rich my life already was—and still is today.

I wake up each morning and fill my French press with delicious coffee in the quiet moments before a new day begins. I have a job that lets me work from home at a desk with the most incredible view of the mountains. I get paid to write, which I still pinch myself over. I live minutes from the ocean with the smell of salt in the air. And I have the most loving and supportive family and friends a person could ask for, and most everyone is in good health.

How could I have ever thought I was “living without” anything?

I am still new to this minimalist scene and my shopping ban, so I am continually discovering new and wonderful things about how it’s changing my life. However, as someone who’s been writing about money for four years, there’s one thing I can tell you with certainty.

When you focus on what’s lacking in your life, you’ll do or buy anything to fill that void.

This might include:

Buying yourself something after you’ve had a bad day.
Upgrading to the newest piece of technology just because it’s popular.
Buying a new car or home because you think it proves you’ve reached a certain level of success.
Filling your home with beautiful things to impress your guests even though you can’t afford any of it.

But when you choose to appreciate what is good in your life, you will use money in ways that help sustain it.

You begin:

Feeling better about paying your rent/mortgage, knowing it’s putting a roof over your head.
Being more grateful for the heat/hot water/electricity you used, when the bill comes.
Doing whatever it takes to make sure you can afford your hobbies and passions.
Saving for your hopes and dreams, both big and small.

Everything in the first list are assets that will immediately depreciate—and not just in dollar value, but also in the value you’ve placed on them. The newest piece of technology gets old the minute something newer comes out. As soon as that happens, you’re back to feeling like you’re “living without” something, versus appreciating it for what it is—a tool that helps you communicate with family and friends.

Everything on the second list, however, will appreciate in value—maybe not in dollar value, but in your continued appreciation for it. When you appreciate that you live in a comfortable home with hot showers, you start to soak up every minute under the water. And when you find the true joy that comes from pursuing hobbies and passions, you’ll wish you’d never wasted a dollar on the “stuff” you thought could bring you that same feeling.

When you spend money on things you appreciate, it will always pay dividends in the form of gratitude.

As a former debt blogger, I wish I’d learned that lesson sooner. However, as part of my journey to become minimalist, I’ve come to realize how valuable my experiences really were. I wouldn’t appreciate my life today, in the same light, if I hadn’t made mistakes and learned from them.

If writing about it helps inspire even one person to shift their focus and find new ways to appreciate what they already have, then the experiences will continue to pay dividends—and for that, I am grateful.

***

Cait is a full-time writer and editor in Vancouver, BC, Canada. She writes about simplifying finances and living a more intentional life on her blog, Blonde on a Budget . You can also follow her on Twitter .

7 Things That Shouldn’t Impress Us Anymore

Minimalism has changed me. What began as just a journey to own less stuff has changed the way I view myself and the world around me in significant ways.

One of the most significant changes is my reevaluation of how society defines success. Too often, those who make and spend and keep the most resources for themselves are labeled as the “successful ones.”

But this is unfortunate. Some of the best people I know would not be regarded as successful in worldly terms—precisely because they have decided to spend and focus their resources on less material things.

These people are far too rare—or at least, they do not get enough recognition. Instead, it seems ingrained in us to desire and appreciate the praise and the admiration of others. And because of that, many people will compromise greater and more worthwhile pursuits for the facade of temporal, worldly success.

I think it is important for us to no longer take the bait—to no longer heap accolades on those who flaunt selfish pursuits.

To that end, because of how my view of the world and its people has begun to change, I will offer a short list of things that no longer impress me:

The brand name of your clothing. Manufacturing practices are important. So is quality and fit. Why the name printed on the inside (and often times the outside) matter, I will never understand. Too often, people pay a premium just for the privilege of become a walking billboard. I am no longer impressed by the logo on your shirt, your purse, or the face of your watch. Instead, I admire those who are confident in timeless fashion and seek to make an impression by their character and their countenance.

The number of carats in your jewelry. One of the most important chapters in my new book, Only What Matters: The Life-Giving Benefits of Owning Less, contains the story of Bryan and Nicole. Bryan and Nicole, five years into their marriage, continue to make sacrifices each day to help pay off lingering wedding debt—most of which is wrapped around Anna’s finger. While the size of the rock on someone’s finger is noticed by some, most are not even looking.

The price of your car. The goal of any vehicle is to safely transport persons from Point A to Point B. Reliability is important, so is comfort (especially if you spend lots of time in it). But most luxury (and sport) cars appeal to a different motivation, they are no longer just about transportation. They often appeal to our need to broadcast success and get noticed—even if that means impressing strangers for 60 seconds at a red light.

The square footage of your house. Houses provide shelter and opportunity for stability. They represent investment in both our finances and our neighborhood. Over the course of my life, I have owned several homes (just one at a time) and have experienced the pride that comes from providing and creating a home for my family. But years ago, we intentionally chose to downsize and buy a smaller one. It is a decision I have never regretted. And to this day, when I drive past a large house, the only thing I can think of is how much happier we are in a small one.

The dollars in your bank account. The ultimate measure of success in our world today is personal wealth. Incidentally, we are not the first—this standard holds true across almost every society from the beginning of time. But I’m starting to wonder if we have been using the wrong measure. Maybe the number of dollars in a bank account is not the greatest measurement of success. Maybe instead, the amount of good we are able to accomplish with our lives is a truer measure of success

The model of your cell phone. Just the other day, I was spending time at a local park with my kids and a group of their friends. One of the most repeated conversations I overheard was their constant comparison of technology. “Which iPhone do you have? What number iPod is that? And guess who just got a new iPad for her birthday?” It was alarming to hear kids under the age of 10 spend so much energy comparing models of battery-powered electronics. And as much as I wanted to blame them and correct them, I was reminded that we adults are not that different. If we are not comparing cell phones, we are often lusting after faster computers and bigger television screens.

The age of your retirement. Retirement is the ultimate goal for most people. Unfortunately, this creates an attitude that sees the greatest goal of work is to remove ourselves from it. I think that approach is short-sighted and fails to recognize the fulfillment we find in it. But more than that, the age of someone’s retirement is based on countless factors, many of which are outside of anyone’s control—one man may strike it rich by simply being in the right place at the right time, while another may have experienced the exact opposite circumstance (just ask any number of 65-year old Baby Boomers). And this doesn’t even begin to count those who will continue working late in life because they have graciously used their financial resources to bless others.

The photos on your social media account. Almost everyone posts flattering images and experiences of themselves online—from new clothes and restaurant food to local concerts and airplane wings. These images are closely guarded and selected routinely portraying only the most exciting parts of our lives. With foolish abandon, we blame Photoshop for perpetuating unattainable images of perfection while simultaneously editing and photoshopping our own lives for social media.

Let’s stop trying to impress others with the things that we own. And start trying to inspire them by the lives that we live. (tweet that)

Why Winning the Lottery Isn’t the Answer

Editor’s Note: This is a guest post from Jeff Goins of Goins Writer.

“We waste so many days waiting for the weekend. So many nights wanting morning. Our lust for future comfort is the biggest thief of life.” —Joshua Glenn Clark

There is this popular idea in our world today that the best thing to happen to you would be to win the lottery. Then, you could spend the remainder of your days on a beach somewhere, sipping cocktails and living the “good life.” But nothing could be further from the truth.

According to most studies, when you win the lottery, you are actually more prone to bankruptcy. One report said that 70% of lottery winners actually end up going broke in the first seven years. In fact, it seems the more money you win, the more likely you are to lose it all. So from a financial standpoint, winning the lottery just might be the worst thing to happen to you. But let’s not stop there.

We’ve all read the statistics about how getting rich doesn’t make you happy, but for some reason we need to find out for ourselves. Maybe winning the lottery for you, though, doesn’t look like buying a Powerball ticket. Maybe it means earning “passive income” or finding your dream job. At times we are all tempted to seek an escape.

When we envision the life we want, many of us treat work as the enemy, as an obligation to endure instead an adventure to embrace.

But what if the life you wanted was actually right in front of you?

After quitting my job and making the transition to become a full-time writer, I thought I had it made. Finally escaping the monotony of a day job, I could relax and enjoy life. But what I discovered was now that I didn’t have any reason to work, my sense of purpose disappeared. I became more confused than ever.

Around that time, I talked to my friend Stu who told me how he was able to find meaning in his work even while punching a clock for a paycheck. He told me about a trip he took to Africa where he saw how education could make a difference in the lives of people who weren’t born with the same opportunities he had. With his wife, Stu started a nonprofit to help build schools in rural Kenya. And when he returned from his trip, he went back to work with a renewed sense of purpose.

On a fundamental level, we all want to feel like what we do is a part of something bigger than us. And the truth is that can happen in any context, if you have the right mindset. What brought me out of my funk was not more leisure, but the realization that I needed to work. We all do. But it’s not just the work that fulfills us. It’s the way we work.

Acclaimed psychologist Viktor Frankl addresses this in his book, Man’s Search for Meaning. At a time when much of psychology said human motivation was about seeking pleasure, Frankl argued that what we really want is meaning. And the way we find it is not by numbing ourselves with substances or stuff but by doing something that matters.

For Frankl, this belief in the importance of meaning held tremendous personal significance. It is what had kept him alive while imprisoned in Nazi concentration camps during WWII. It was the book he was writing and the hope of seeing his wife that allowed him to endure.

When I quit my day job to chase my dream, I realized my life was not just about me. It couldn’t be. And if I went to work only for myself or in hopes of one day retiring so I could live the good life, then the work I did today would have no purpose. And honestly, I tried that. It didn’t work.

To paraphrase Frankl, we don’t want to be just happy. We want a reason to be happy.

The worst thing you could do with your life is waste it, believing the only reason you exist is to seek pleasure. (tweet that)

We all have a purpose, a task for which we were designed, and the goal of your life is to find it—not somewhere out there, but hidden in the life you’re already living.

And if you can embrace that truth, you’ve already won the lottery.

***

Jeff Goins is a writer who lives just outside of Nashville with his wife, son, and border collie. His new book, The Art of Work, is about finding your calling. For a limited time, you can get it for only the price of shipping.

Inspiring Simplicity. Weekend Reads.

Fill your life with stories to tell, not stuff to show.

The simplicity/minimalism movement is a beautiful community. It is friendly, encouraging, and helpful. There is a genuine understanding that any promotion of simplicity is good for society—and there is little concern over who gets the credit for it.

It is a pleasure to be part of such a wonderful group of people. And I enjoy every opportunity to promote writing that encourages people to live more by owning less.

So fix yourself a nice warm cup of coffee or tea. Find a quiet moment this weekend. And enjoy some encouraging words to inspire more simplicity in your life today.

Great! Another Thing to Hate About Ourselves | The New York Times by Jennifer Weiner. Show me a body part, I’ll show you someone who’s making money by telling women that theirs looks wrong.

Do You Care What I Wear? | Frugaling by Sam Lustgarten. My high school and college days were fraught with an insecurity that prompted me to spend. Now, as I’ve slowed my purchases and become more minimalist, I’ve learned some important takeaways.

Can You Quit Your Job as Stuff Manager? | BlogHer by Jess Townes. I hope you find that forty days is ample notice to find a replacement for the position or to restructure as necessary.

Becoming a Soul Minimalist | Chatting at the Sky by Emily Freeman. Stillness is to the soul as de-cluttering is to the home.

—

I spent this past weekend in Orlando, FL addressing the National Association of Senior Move Managers. I was so wonderfully impressed. If there is a senior in your life going the process of downsizing and moving to a new residence, I highly recommend the work they do. They are good people with big hearts. And I just wanted you to know the resource is out there.

We Are Wealthy. And Why It Matters.

Recently, there have been numerous reports highlighting the distribution of wealth and income inequality in both America and around the world. The news is far from healthy:

It is currently estimated that by the year 2016, the richest 1 percent will control more than half of the world’s wealth.


Even more shocking, the combined wealth of the 80 richest people in the world is the same as that of the bottom 50% of the Earth’s population—totaling 3.5 billion people.


In America, the wealth inequality gap continues to grow as America’s middle class shrinks. The share of American households in the middle class fell from 56.5 percent in 1979 to only 45.1 percent in 2012. And there is no indication this trend will reverse itself.

Regardless of how you think the problem should be resolved, this is not good news.

Numerous economic studies indicate the significant dangers to society when the wealth gap widens—both economically and for personal well-being. One of the most important factors designating first-world countries from third-world countries is the size of the middle class and opportunity for social mobility. I have seen firsthand the damaging effect of income inequality.

There are solutions to this problem and we need to find them.

But recently, I have begun noticing another unhealthy trend. One that may be related to the widening gap, but more likely, finds its root in the human spirit. It too requires a solution, albeit a much easier one to define.

This equally negative trend is the wealth gap we focus on in our mind and the resulting division we artificially create because of it.

Let me explain what I mean with a short story from this past weekend:

On Sunday, I was spending some time with neighbors. Economically speaking, we live very similar lives in our suburban neighborhood outside Phoenix. At one point, one of the guys struck up a conversation with one of the teenage boys in attendance—the son of another friend. In response to a question, the teenager mentioned the Soccer Club he had begun playing for. This Soccer Club, not too far down the road from us, just happens to be located in one of the wealthiest counties in the country.

My friend’s immediate response to this information was telling, “Oh, so you’re on a team with a bunch of rich kids?” The jealousy contained in his voice was difficult to mask.

His statement, I believe, is indicative of how most of us view wealth: “Those with more are the rich ones, not me.”

I mean, never mind the fact that earlier in the day my friend had to decide which of their two vehicles he would drive to the party. Forget the part that we were enjoying fine food and drink in a comfortable, well-decorated home. Disregard that he had enough money to care for his health needs, was making plans to retire in the near future, and had even saved a bit of money for his child’s college education… in his mind, he was not rich. The “other guys” down the street were the rich ones.

We experience this often in our thinking. We usually compare our financial circumstance to those who have more. And as a result, we rarely consider ourselves wealthy. The world is big and there is always somebody with more. No wonder 55% of millionaires do not consider themselves rich.

We see this also on a macro-level in our society. In our country and around the world, “The 1%” has become a derogatory term describing the wealthiest among us. Subtly, it is used to designate the apparent, insatiable greed of those who already own enough. We use it in conversation to draw a sharp contrast between those who are “rich,” and those of us who most assuredly, are not.

Again, because we compare our financial circumstance to those who have more, we refuse to consider ourselves among the rich. But something interesting happens when we begin to expand our comparisons.

Globally, an estimated 6 billion people live on less than $13,000/year. And nearly half the world’s population, 2.8 billion people, survive on less than $2 a day.

According to the non-profit group Giving What We Can, an annual income of $40,000 places you in the richest 2.0% of the world’s population. An income of $25,000/year puts you in the top 3%.

Even a minimum wage job ($7.25 and hour, 40 hours a week, 52 weeks a year) puts you in the top 8% of all people on the planet in terms of income. Adjusting for actual purchasing power makes little difference in the percentages.

In other words, we are the rich ones. When we begin to expand our worldview beyond those who only have more than us, we quickly discover we are already among the wealthiest in the world today. And in most cases, we are the 1%, globally speaking.

We are already wealthy. And this should change entirely the way we live our lives. (tweet that)

This realization invites us to pursue happiness elsewhere. If I already exist in the top 2% of wage-earners in the world, is reaching the top 1.8% really going to increase my happiness index significantly? Maybe having more money is not the answer, maybe I will need to look elsewhere.

It requires us to rethink contentment. The level of income in our countries is just one economic measurement. In addition to income, average home sizes have nearly tripled in the past 50 years, televisions outnumber people in the average American home, and the average British 10-year-old owns 238 toys but plays with just 12 daily. Despite our material accumulation, discontent fuels more desire, more shopping, and more debt. If all that we already own has not satisfied the deepest longings of our heart by now, they probably never well.

Our wealth calls us to embrace a higher standard. Most of the “us vs. them” conversations concerning wealth focus on how those with more should spend their money differently—whether by governmental authority or by personal initiative. But, if “we” became “they,” shouldn’t we try to live by the same standard we called them to uphold?

It opens the opportunity for greater generosity in our lives today. The thinking runs deep in many of our hearts: Once I make more money, I will become more generous. But the research indicates otherwise. We are already wealthy—most of us ranking in the top 2% globally. The time for generosity is now. And maybe the greatest benefit of generosity is the realization that we already have enough.

Are you the wealthiest human being in the world? Absolutely not (I mean, unless you are reading Bill). But that doesn’t mean “rich” is some far off concept you will never attain. In reality, most of us have already achieved it. And this ought to change both how we live and define wealth.

One Secret of Success Available to Everyone

“Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.” —Thomas A. Edison

A few months ago, a friend stumbled upon my Twitter account. We had known each other briefly in the past, but had since lost contact. He called me right away, “Wow, Joshua. I just noticed your Twitter account. How in the world did you get so many followers?” Flattering, I know.

Now, we both know Twitter followers are an incomplete and inconsistent measure of success. There are plenty of ways to game the system (heck, you can even buy 10,000 Twitter followers for less than $100 if you want). Besides, follower count always seems more impressive from the outside. Nevertheless, it is considered by some to be an important measure of influence… on with the story.

There is no short answer to success on social media (entire books have been written on the subject), I was more than happy to share some of my strategies.

But, my first response to his question was short and to the point.

“Consistency,” I said, “I credit most of my online success to consistency and perseverance. I’ve been writing about minimalism for a long time—over six years. And all my online pursuits have been tied to one simple message: Own less, live more.”

I think this is an important truth that is often overlooked. Consistency is a valuable tool for earning influence. It develops credibility. It provides opportunity to grow in expertise. And just like compounding interest, it builds upon itself.

But consistency was not a foregone conclusion in my life. In fact, early in my blogging career, I almost quit.

I blogged for almost one year and had seen some growth, but nothing too exciting. So I quit for an entire month (February, 2009). I returned with a short, simple blog post about donating old prom dresses. I remember hearing an interesting commercial on the radio that prompted the post. Christy left a simple comment. It went like this, “Come back Josh.”

It was short. It was simple. But it was encouraging enough for me to carry on with writing and blogging and simplicity.

Over the next several years, I gained more readers and followers. And my digital influence continued to grow. Why? Because I got better? Probably. But also because I became consistent to my message.

Consistency is an important element in success. And the only prerequisite for consistency is perseverance.

Perseverance can be hard. But, here’s the beautiful part: Perseverance is one secret of success available to each of us.

Regardless of our background, education, social status, or passion, we can all persevere.

We will never reach our fullest potential or purpose in life until we learn to push through the frustration, overcome the obstacles, and remain committed to our pursuit—no matter how difficult the circumstances.

Of course, the very nature of perseverance requires that we face trials. There is no perseverance without difficulty. This makes it a painful skill that many will shy away from. But these trials make perseverance one of the most rewarding personal traits we can ever develop.

People who succeed in their dreams learn the skill of perseverance. They are the ones who refuse to give in regardless of the score or the current obstacles they may be facing. And in the end, they achieve success—regardless of how you choose to define it.

Richard St. John agrees (3:30). So does Ira Glass (1:54).

How Writing Has Changed Me

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” —Anaïs Nin

Six years ago, I started a blog. And writing has remained a constant in my life ever since. Prior to starting Becoming Minimalist, I had done very little writing—a few articles for a company newsletter, but that’s about it. But these days, I try to write something new every day.

Two weeks ago, I sent in a manuscript for a new book, Only What Matters: The Life-Giving Benefits of Owning Less. The book will be released in December, just in time for Christmas. It is the most comprehensive introduction and explanation of minimalism I have ever written. I am really excited for you to see it—we’ve got some fun things planned this year.

Because of the book’s deadline, I have spent the last six weeks almost entirely immersed in the writing process (a gracious thank-you to the guest bloggers who filled in some of the gaps for me). Looking back, the focused writing time has caused me to appreciate the process even more—not just because of a finished manuscript, but because of what writing has meant to me on a personal level.

It has changed me.

Writing has forced discipline in my life. More than I ever expected, writing requires discipline. The past six years have involved countless early mornings and late nights. Most writers will attest to that fact. Writing requires the discipline to sit quietly on a chair, alone in a room with a blank page. All writing begins there.

Writing has provided opportunity to refine opinions. Dawson Trotman once said, “Thoughts disentangle themselves when they pass through the lips and the fingertips.” He was right. Writing has required me to both understand and articulate my opinions. It has forced me to research my assumptions, defend them, and change when necessary.

Writing has prompted intentionality. Writing requires observation. And observation almost always leads to intentionality. Once I began writing about life and the thoughts that shape it, I began to think more intentionally about who I was becoming—and whether that was consistent with what I desired most.

Writing has made me more comfortable with my life’s journey. Recently, the New York Times published new research that seems to indicate writing—and then rewriting—your personal story can lead to behavioral changes and improved happiness. Among other reasoning, one argument is that writing helps us better understand our unique narrative and find deeper meaning in our trouble and suffering. After writing consistently for six years and experiencing this effect, I agree.

Writing has provided accountability. I chose to write publicly and have brought expectation upon myself because of it. In fact, the last time I posed for a selfie with a reader, she asked, “So do you really live out everything you write?” Even a private journal provides accountability. As we script our story, we find accountability—not to the written word, but to ourselves. We see how far we’ve come, how much we have left to accomplish, and why giving up now would be foolish.

Writing has increased my passion for the message. For six years, I have written about the benefits of owning less. Some days, I feel like I could write for six more. As I do, I continue to see how owning less holds benefit for all. Through readers’ comments and personal emails, I experience again the life-changing impact of this simple message: There is more joy to be found in owning less than we can ever discover pursuing more.

I have experienced other benefits for sure. Writing has given me a platform to share my message and has provided me the freedom to pursue it entirely. But still, the greatest change is the change that has occurred within me. I experienced each of them well before this blog had any regular readers.

There are important reasons to write. I recommend it often.

Inspiring Simplicity. Weekend Reads.

There’s more to life than buying stuff.

There are many wonderful people pursuing and promoting simplicity. Fortunately, some of them are gifted in communication and choose to encourage and inspire us with their words. I enjoy reading their unique perspective. I’m sure you will too.

So fix yourself a nice warm cup of coffee or tea on this beautiful weekend. Find a quiet moment. And enjoy some encouraging words about finding more simplicity in your life today.

A Brief History of Happiness: How America Lost Track of the Good Life | Yes! Magazine by Sarah van Gelder. For decades, we’ve been taught that economic growth and buying more stuff will make us happy—while trashing the planet. The good news is, there’s a better kind of happy.

The Stuff Paradox: Dealing with clutter in the US | BBC by Jane O’Brien. While more and more Americans struggle to make do with less due to economic hardship, others are making a conscious choice to shed their possessions.

Why Spending Less on Your Wedding Could Save Your Marriage | PBS Newshour by Meghan Walsh. New research shows the more you spend on your big day, the shorter your marriage will be.

Simple Living is a Choice | Life Beginner by Rahul Singh. You start living a simple life the moment you decide to live simple. And not when you wait for things to become simple for you.

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For the past week, Clutterfree with Kids has been the #1 Parenting book in America. Thanks for your help making that happen. If you haven’t done so, this is the final weekend to buy the digital version for $2.99.

If you live in Sweden, I will be visiting in March to speak at the Camino Conference in Stockholm, as well as events in Gothenburg and Borås. Buy a ticket.

Other speaking engagements over the next month include Phoenix, Orlando, Las Vegas, and CCTV. You can always find my full travel schedule here. Or book me to speak at your next event.