I Love Slow Living and I'm Not A Minimalist.

My (somewhat) controversial take on two trends that shouldn't actually be synonymous with one another

I don’t think the concept of slow living leads to much if any, controversy. But if it’s possible to be controversial, I’d say the topic of minimalism and its role in slow living is the closest thing we’ll get.

These two lifestyles have always co-existed almost exclusively for as long as I’ve known about each concept. Basically, if you’re learning about living a slower, more intentional life, you’re also learning how to downsize, declutter, and eliminate many of your possessions. And I absolutely understand how they are interwoven. When you slow down and realize what truly matters, you’ll naturally start to want less, and you’ll be much more focused on experiences over things.

But, I’m here to debunk the idea that to be a passionate slow living enthusiast you also have to be a minimalist. That you have to renounce most of your personal possessions and say you ‘need nothing’ to lead a purposeful life. I am in awe of the incredible people who share about minimalism; one of my best friends is a tried and true minimalist and heck, my sister has been a borderline minimalist her whole life. While I love them and acknowledge how beautiful of a lifestyle they can lead, it’s not the lifestyle for me.

You see, I love stories. I love history. I love that I still have my childhood stuffed bunny and boxes of books I read as a teenager (including many, many copies of the Twilight series). I love keeping heirlooms from family and candles are strewn across almost every surface of our house that the toddler can’t reach. One summer, my previously mentioned minimalist friend went through my closet with me and I got rid of so much. Initially, it felt really so good and freeing. But to this day, there are still sweaters that I miss and dresses I wish I never gave away. I’m not someone who has a clear, set style and I go through many iterations of things I love in a year, month, week, or even days sometimes. I wish I was someone who was super clear on what they want to be at all times, I truly admire those people, but it’s just not me.

So when I got rid of all my boho skirts and raw edge denim and left only linen and cotton, when my cottagecore phased out at the end of the month, I missed being able to dress to match my inner goth or preppy-themed spirit. The way I dress and express myself is ever-changing, and I’ve learned over the years to accept that as a beautiful piece of my personality rather than a flaw.

My closet overflows with different styles for the seasons, or for my attitude of the day, and while sometimes it can feel a bit overwhelming if I don’t have it all folded and put away, it gives me comfort to know it’s all there.

My mother grew up in a very cluttered home. My grandparent's house is beautiful and meticulous, but my grandmother collects antiques specifically from our family history and it’s littered throughout every crevice of her home. To my mom, she needed a blank canvas to live from, so when she eventually had a house of her own, she never put pictures on the wall or had too many tchotchkes strewn throughout. It was definitely cozy and comfortable, but our house was never filled with stuff.

I guess I take after my grandmother in that way, then. I’m definitely far from being a hoarder, and I love a defined home style, but I also can’t wait to inherit her ancient clock that used to scare me as a child because it resembles a face, or the desk passed down from her great-great uncle. Those pieces have value to me, and I can’t wait to be the collector of my own home in that way (with maybe a little less stuff).

To me, slow living is about cherishing as much as it is about experiencing. I look around my home and I see sacred moments wrapped into pieces of memory that make up who I am and how my family has become who we are together. My husband’s giant Star Wars book collection fills up an entire bookcase, and every drawer in the kitchen is filled with different utilities from my baking days, to breadmaking endeavors, to my morning smoothie phase. Of course, as life continues on, I do get rid of what I am actively not using anymore as long as it doesn’t hold a special place in my heart (sorry, food processor, you just really didn’t do it for me). But the baby spoons, the extra bread lame, and the abundance of homemade pottery mugs can stay because they truly light up my life every time I open the cupboard to make a cup of tea or am reminded of when my now toddler was a six-month-old taking her first bite of avocado.

And I get it, I don’t actually need to have these things in my life to have the memory of them. But what if I just want to? What if I want to hold onto the things that have shaped me just a little bit longer, and maybe pass them on to my own daughter one day so that she can hold history in her little hands? Or, maybe she’ll be like my mom and only want all things modern and new. That’s okay too.

I think what I’m getting at is that you can live a much more intentional life without getting rid of those things that made you want to be more thoughtful in the first place. You can be a purveyor of slow living and not be a minimalist, and that is absolutely okay. It’s great, even. It’s also totally okay if you want to purge your entire house and only own 50 things, but I think you know that already.

Our life is filled with the stories we’re told, the stories we hold, and the stories we create. It’s up to us to keep what feels beautiful and to let go of what doesn’t. Slow living, to me, is about getting crystal clear on what truly matters to you in your every day and crafting your life around that in whatever way you can. Slow living can be simple, it can be quiet, it can be uncomplicated. Slow living can also be robust, it can be abounding, and it can be satisfying either way.

I am so tired of a world in which there are this or this. I’m much more interested in a life filled with and’s rather than but’s. I believe we can hold two beliefs and multiple ways of living, and at the same time find common ground with both. There is so much gray space within the mix of colors, and it’s up to us to find out where our own spot lies.

I think when we stop looking at trends and following the next hot topic, and instead get to know ourselves, our real selves, we can find out what an intentional life truly means. It is presence, it’s purpose-filled, and it’s ours in a way that only you can create and mold to feel good about. So, I’ll be over here with my overflowing bookcases and way too many pairs of jeans cheering you on for whatever kind of life you decide to live and whoever you decide to become, minimalist or not. Slow living or not. Either way, I’m wishing you the best.

I hope you’ll do the same for me.