Goodbye, Things: The New Japanese Minimalism

by Fumio Sasaki

The damage in the Tokyo area was mild from that event, but what if that big earthquake had hit Tokyo directly? My bookcase itself probably would have crashed to the floor and it might have prevented me from getting out of my apartment. My big cameras could have hit my head. My favorite possessions—all those books and cameras—could have killed me. I think we also need to remember that the tsunami that hit northern Japan during the Great East Japan Earthquake swallowed up family albums and all sorts of important memorabilia. By saving our precious memories digitally, not only on our hard drives but with data backup online through Dropbox or Google Drive, we won’t end up losing those important moments in the event of a huge disaster.

With fewer possessions, there will be less risk of damage during a natural disaster. There will be fewer risks in any type of situation, and you can move around quickly regardless of what may happen. That feeling of security can energize us, and reduce our stress levels even further.

When this happens, our interpersonal relationships will become fixed without room for improvement. Deeper relationships are only possible if we see every person as a real human being with the same meaningful desires, concerns, and fears. With more time and less stress, we can stop betraying our urges and take actions for the good of others. We can begin to see people as people instead of objects.

In the film Into the Wild, the protagonist Chris McCandless leaves us with words I think are worth living by: “Happiness [is] only real when shared.”

Gandhi, who taught nonpossession, said, “Service which is rendered without joy helps neither the servant nor the served. But all other pleasures and possessions pale into nothingness before service which is rendered in a spirit of joy.”

I’ve said goodbye to a lot of things. Every time I’ve parted with my possessions, I’ve continued to ask myself if I need them now, not some day in the future. As I’ve kept on asking myself about the present and erased the concept of someday, a strange thing has happened. For some reason, I am no longer able to think about the future.

“I was trying to wash today’s dishes, yesterday’s dishes and dishes that weren’t even dirty yet.” The dishes that need to be washed today are those that were used during the course of a single day. Anyone would collapse in despair if they started thinking about washing the dishes tomorrow, the day after, and every day over the course of a year. They wouldn’t even be able to catch up with the dishes that need to be washed today. Future unemployment, marriage, having kids, getting old and getting sick, and dying alone—these were the dishes in my future that weren’t even dirty yet.

Goodbye past things, goodbye old me In a similar way, I no longer have anything that I used to need in the past. By asking myself if I need something now, I’ve been able to discard the things that used to be important to the old me. I don’t have the things I used to believe were a part of me. Now, I’m just a human being who no longer owns anything that is tied up with my identity.

I threw away everything I thought would be needed for some day in the future, as well as the things I thought I needed in the past. I was left with what truly matters: the present.

Neither the past nor the future actually exists. There’s only an eternal present, and you can only experience the now.

Anyone who believes that they have the ability to experience the future will pay little attention to the present. They’ll put up with things and frown if only for the sake of their glorious future. But it’s only in the present that they can experience something, which means that those grumpy-looking souls frowning today will probably continue to be sullen no matter what they do. Or as I like to say, if you’re sighing now, you’ll probably be sighing forever. If you really want to change something, the only way to do it is to start changing this very moment. There’s really no tomorrow, and no next week to look forward to. Once tomorrow comes, it’s going to be today. A year from now will be today when the time comes. Everything is in the now.

By parting with the things that I’d been keeping for my past and for my future, I now find that I can think only about the present. I’m not going to be afraid of anything that may await me in the future. Without all my old possessions, I have the freedom and mobility to manage, no matter what the future may bring.

Gratitude becomes possible only when you don’t have many possessions.

Only gratitude can compete with boredom Gratitude is the only thing that can prevent the cycle of familiarity leading to boredom that I wrote about in chapter 2. Gratitude allows us to see our everyday life with a fresh perspective—we won’t continue to take things for granted if we become aware of our appreciation for them. Through gratitude, we can trigger sustainable stimulation, which gives us much more peace than the stimulation that we get by buying something new or increasing our stockpile. We can accumulate as much as we like, but without gratitude we’ll only end up being bored with everything we’ve obtained. Conversely, we can achieve true contentment with few possessions, just so long as we treat them with gratitude.

There’s a Buddhist chant recited before meals called Gokan no Ge, or the Five Reflections. 1. Reflect upon how the food has come before you—how the food might have been grown, how it was prepared, and how it was brought to you as your meal. 2. Reflect upon your virtues and conduct. Are you worthy of the meal? 3. Focus only on the meal in front of you without rushing through it and without thinking any other thoughts. 4. Eat not from a gourmet perspective, weighing whether the meal is tasty, but simply to support your life. 5. Eat so you are able to pursue the objectives that you would like to achieve.

As long as I remember to feel grateful for my food, I can focus on whatever I might be served and appreciate it.

I realized then that gratitude is not a method. It’s a part of happiness—it’s happiness itself. Studies in psychology have shown that the more times people have a chance to be grateful, the happier they’ll be. That isn’t all that surprising when you consider that gratitude is happiness.

We can only feel what’s happening now, and everything is in the present. What if we were to combine this with an affirmative perspective filled with gratitude? Let’s just try it for a minute. Let’s try to appreciate the present. It’s now midnight. I’m sitting at a chain restaurant. It’s lonely because I’m the only customer here . . . but wait, the place is staying open late just for me. I’m wearing my usual clothes . . . but they’re wonderfully comfortable no matter how many times I wear them. The waiter was curt to me . . . but he quickly brought me my meal, and even asked me to enjoy it. The banquette where I’m sitting is boring . . . but I’m grateful that I can sit here for hours without getting sore. The drink station is the same as it always is . . . but I can have as many cups of coffee as I want, and the cups and glasses are always nice and clean. I step out of the restaurant and feel a little jealous of all the couples I pass . . . but I’ve got many wonderful memories, too. Or maybe I’m in the middle of a commute. It’s my usual route to get to work and I’m pretty much fed up with it. I’m stuck behind someone having trouble with his commuter pass. He probably forgot to add money to it . . . but these passes are really quite amazing. They’re a wonderful invention, so convenient, and we can even use them to buy things at the kiosks. Two people are standing talking to each other on one side of the escalator while I try to get by . . . but it’s gratifying to see that th...

“Feeling” happy instead of “becoming” happy

Happiness depends on how you interpret it. Happiness isn’t something outside you; it’s within you. Happiness is always in your heart. Many people have said it in different ways, and they’re all right. Happiness is basically something that each of us can measure only by declaring our own sense of contentment ourselves. A person might be in a difficult situation that looks rough to others, but if they feel that they’re happy, if they’re grateful for their conditions, then that person is happy.

You don’t “become” happy. Happiness isn’t a reward that you receive for following examples that are set. It doesn’t come attached to certain life achievements, and it isn’t handed to you on a silver platter. “Feeling” happy instead of “becoming” happy I think happiness is something that can only be felt, and it’s only in the present that you can truly experience it. It’s the feeling of delight that you feel from moment to moment. A person who is unhappy now can’t plan to feel happiness tomorrow, the day after, or a year from now, because once that time comes, it will simply be another “now” for them to be unhappy in. To look at it the other way around, there’s nothing extra we need to feel happy in this very moment. It’s possible for us to always feel happy.

Because I don’t own very much, I have the luxury of time. I can enjoy the simplicity of my daily life without feeling stressed or overwhelmed. That useless pride has disappeared, and since I’m not self-conscious about appearances, I’ve been able to take the bold step of writing this book. I have better concentration and I am finally focusing on the work that I’ve always wanted to do. I’m more perceptive of the here and now. I don’t relive past traumas or worry about my uncertain future. More than anything, though, the biggest change in my behavior since I said goodbye to my things has been the rise of a new sense of everyday gratitude. I am truly moved by my experiences in the present moment, and I find myself walking through life grateful for the friends I have and for those few things I’ve kept. Minimalism isn’t an objective. It’s a method. There are many important lessons that I’ve learned through minimalism.

What’s important in my life? It’s the person who’s sitting or standing in front of me right now.