This article is an introduction to a mini-series on minimalism, mental health, disabilities, and Christ-centered faith.

I wrote this little entry a few years ago but didn’t have anywhere I wanted to share it, until now. Being a minimalist has changed my perspective on nearly every aspect of my life and I’m so glad I can talk about it with you!

“Flaquita linda”, that’s what my Cuban Abuela (grandma) used to call me, it was an endearing way of calling me cute but scrawny. She used to try and get me to put on some pounds by making my favorite dishes every week I went over. She’d pile con gris, platanos, yucca, salad, and fresh avocado on my plate, and just when I didn’t think I could possibly eat any more, she’d come back with “just a tiny bit more” for me to eat. Every time I make black beans I think of her. My abuela taught me a lot about valuing the things in life that are usually taken for granted, like good food, spending time with family, and simply taking time to truly appreciate the life you have.

I come from a family of immigrants, my father escaped Cuba back in the 1960s with my grandparents and his younger siblings. My grandparents didn’t have money in this country, they worked hard every day to build a life for themselves and their children. growing up none of us had money, but I can’t remember a time when we cared because we were always together and we were always content to be there. My abuela laid the foundations for her children and grandchildren to lead happy lives no matter their financial status in life. She taught us, that as long as we are happy, healthy, and have family, nothing else really matters. Abuela was a God-fearing woman, who knew how to make a little go a long way. I am forever grateful to her for teaching me the value of being content. Maybe that’s why, over the years, I became a minimalist.

⁶ Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. ⁷ After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it. ⁸ So if we have enough food and clothing, let us be content.

1 Timothy 6:6-8 NLT

Minimalism is a word that strikes fear in every fashion-loving, cozy blanket collector, book hoarder, and super shopper. Typically, when most people think about minimalism they picture cold spaces, devoid of cozy, and lack of unique and colorful clothing. Minimalism is often given the reputation of deprivation as if those who adopt a lifestyle of minimalism are somehow depriving themselves of comfort and basic necessities. But this isn’t the case. Sure there are extreme minimalists out there who have chosen to forgo mattresses, furniture, and dishware, but most of us live normal lives just will less clutter.

I started seriously adopting minimalism into my life just before I moved into my studio apartment in Pennsylvania. I realized that every time I moved, I would accumulate more and more things. Granted I had mostly useful things –I was never a nick-nack person– but I didn’t really didn’t want the majority of what I had. I was stuck where I think most people get stuck. I had a lot of stuff that made me happy when I initially got them, but I wasn’t happy now, and I didn’t know why. I wasn’t living in the present, instead, I was living for some future where everything would be simple and I would have exactly what I needed all the time. I forgot how the Bible warns not to store up earthly treasures and I forgot the simple lessons my Abuela left for me. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t actively miserable but I was plagued by a nagging feeling that something was missing from my life.

When a friend asked if I’d like to drive cross country to California, I had no idea that agreeing to help her move would be exactly the reboot I needed. We began our trip in late July, by loading my friend’s bright red Dodge with as much stuff as we could possibly squeeze in. I remembered thinking about how much stuff I had and if I had to move all the way across the country, would I be able to fit all my stuff into her tiny car. What would I prioritize? I owned all the “necessities” I was told I needed in life, but was all of it actually necessary? I grew up traveling a lot. My mom is from the Netherlands and we spent much of my younger years traveling to and from Europe visiting family. I used to pack everything I could possibly need for two months at a time, in a little carry-on bag, and I was perfectly fine. But when the recession came in 2008, my parents got hit hard. Our little family business went under, we declared bankruptcy, and we stopped traveling.

By the time I got to college, it had been a long time since I had gone anywhere for longer than a week, so when a month-long road trip presented itself during the summer of my senior year, it felt like an itch finally being scratched. I missed traveling. I dusted off my tiny carry-on bag and stuffed my backpack full of assorted road trip snackies.

After a week of driving, crossing into Canada, visiting four state parks, and two weeks in California, I returned home, dropped my bags in the living room of my apartment, and thought, If all this burned in a tragic fire and all I had left in the world was in my carry-on bag, I’d be okay with that. That was it for me. For the first time in a long time, I felt free.

I started to see most of my things as dead weight that held no purpose and didn’t make me happy, so I picked up a trash bag and tore through my closet, kitchen, and living room, donating what was nice, and tossing what wasn’t. I started looking up information on minimalism and how-to blogs and vlogs looking for inspiration. I fully embraced the lifestyle and almost immediately I had less anxiety and stress. Slowly I started re-discovering things that really made me feel happy, productive, and satisfied. My Abuela was a wise woman.

¹⁵ And He said to them, “Take heed and beware of covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of the things he possesses.”

Luke 12:15 NKJV

Now I live in a very small studio apartment with my bird, Pip. My home is simple, the things I have, I value and I don’t need anything more. I’m not an extreme minimalist, I like my space to be cozy and warm and I have my fair share of plushy blankets and earthy ceramic mugs, but I don’t buy things like I used to and I don’t typically keep physical gifts that people give me. When I do buy something it’s purposeful and highly thought through. I want to live intentionally.

As someone who has anxiety, ADHD, and Autism, you can’t imagine how relieving simplifying my life has been. By minimizing my surroundings I have allowed for the calming and expansion of my mind and soul. I rarely have to worry about my apartment not being clean, running out of space for my things, or worrying about clutter triggering my sensory issues. Life is easier to manage now. I’m less distracted and I make time for what is important to me, like spending time with family and reading my bible instead of sorting through my laundry or worrying about getting the dishes clean.

Minimalism has allowed me to create more space for God and strengthen my faith. It’s easy to become distracted and consumed by stress and never-ending chore lists when my home is full of nonsense. I often think about how many times in the scriptures we are reminded to not concern ourselves with worldly belongings. How many times has God warned us not to become caught up in our day-to-day and attach ourselves to temporary possessions? In a global society centered around consumerism, it’s so important to me, that my lifestyle does not distract or hinder me from listening to God.

⁵ Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. For He Himself has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” ⁶ So we may boldly say:

“The Lord is my helper;
I will not fear.
What can man do to me?”

Hebrews 13:5-6 NKJV

Thanks for reading.

-H