cherished mementos

One of the hardest things about simplifying your possessions is figuring out what to do with the mementos you have from loved ones: photos, notes, letters, cards, little gifts, and more.

It’s hard to let go.

Recently on Twitter someone asked: “Both parents gone. Tried to keep small things, photos – even then it’s alot of stuff. Regret tossing some notes & cards ..help?”

I can’t imagine how hard that would be, losing both parents and trying to hold on to memories of them. So I won’t try to give advice there. What I can do is say what has worked for me in allowing myself to let go of possessions but hold on to memories:

1. Scan. Old photos, letters, cards, notes, report cards, kids’ drawings, awards, etc. All can be scanned and saved into your computer. Use a program such as Evernote to keep them all organized, synced among your computers, and backed up online.

2. Take pictures. If the object can’t be scanned (a little teddy bear, or a wedding dress), take a digital photo. Keep them all organized via Google’s Picasa photo program — it’ll also store everything online, privately if you want, and you can use it to sync between computers. Wouldn't a picture of someone holding or wearing or using something you love mean more, anyway?

3. Share with others. Give some of the most treasured things to others who will enjoy having them. Allow them to pass them on to other loved ones, etc., so the love and memories can be spread rather than hoarded.

4. Box things. If you really can’t part with things, even after scanning and taking photos of them, put them in boxes and put them out of sight, in storage, marked with a date that’s 6 months from now. On that date, open the box and if you realize you didn’t really need the items, then pass them on or toss them.

5. Remember what’s important. It’s not the actual, physical objects that matter — these you can learn to let go of, with time. What matters is the memories. If you can hold on to the memories, by looking through scanned letters and photos on your computer from time to time, then you’re good.

This post was originally crafted by Leo Babauta and edited by me. 

Want to change the world? You can! Change the way you live. Change your world.

Want to live in a car-free world? Stop using a car. Now the world you live in becomes one in which you walk, bike, and use mass transit. Others might not follow, but that’s their choice. If you want to live where there aren’t any cars, there exist such places (seriously, Google it!) and you can move to one of those places if that’s important to you. But already, you can live in a car-free world.

Want to live in a world where your food isn’t shipped thousands of miles and grown unsustainably by agribusiness? Start a garden. You can just start with one plant, and then another, and another until you have enough to eat eventually. Or start a community garden, or use farmer’s markets, or join (or start) a CSA. You can make a difference in the world just by changing the way you consume your food.

Want to live in a non-consumerist world? Stop buying things. Make things last, reuse things and move to reusable things (such as cloth napkins and glass containers). Fix things when they break, trade your unwanted belongings to others, join Freecycle. Stop watching ads (which might mean you stop watching TV or reading ad-supported magazines and newspapers). Write to your local officials and ask them to create regulations on advertising to children. If you want to stop being a compulsory consumer, you can. 

Want to live in a paperless world? Stop buying and using paper. Want to live in a world with no orphans? Adopt. Want to live in a world with no trash? Embrace a zero-waste lifestyle. Want to conserve water? Do it. 

If you want a change, then make a change. You likely can't change the whole world for everyone living in it, but you can certainly change the world you live in. 

This post was originally crafted by Leo Babauta and edited by me. 

Less can come in many forms. You can have fewer things, you can do fewer things, you can use fewer things, you can focus on fewer things.

But less isn’t just fewer: it can also be smaller.

Small is often downplayed in this world of “bigger means better”. But small is beautiful, and often better.

• Smaller banks aren’t “too big to fail,” requiring bailouts when they’re mismanaged, and yet they make very important community loans.
• Smaller teams are more nimble, can adapt to changing environments faster, don’t require as much management or communication overhead, can work cheaply and from anywhere.
• Smaller cars use less gas, are more maneuverable, cause fewer deaths, use fewer resources.
• Smaller homes require less heating, less cleaning, less maintenance, force you to simplify, are cozier.
• Smaller programs use fewer computer resources, take up less computer power and thus help the environment, work faster, get the job done with a minimum of fuss.
• Smaller suitcases (such as a small backpack) are easier to carry around, fit easier in overhead compartments, don’t require you to check luggage and worry about luggage not getting to the right destination, are easier to pack and unpack.
• Smaller websites (in terms of file sizes) are easier to load, faster, more responsive.
• Smaller companies are also more responsive, less expensive, hungrier, more focused.
• Haikus pack a lot of punch into three tiny lines.
• Smaller posts don’t take as much time to write or read, which is good for a lazy blogger. And a busy reader.

Small is beautiful. Aim for smaller when it makes sense, and enjoy the wonder that ensues.

Shoutout to Leo Babauta, the original author of this beautiful piece on minimalism. 

While paper letters (though cool) have become mostly outdated, most people still get a lot of mail. And it piles up, sitting unopened or unfiled or unacted upon.

The answer to this flood of mail isn’t in better handling methods or better systems of organization (though this is also a good thing), it’s in getting less mail. So here are my recommendations — though they won’t work for everyone, and they’re not comprehensive.

It’s simply a process of systematically stopping the mail at the source.

Look at all your mail, both personal and business, and figure out how to stop it from coming. Some examples:

1. Catalogs: Email or call the company, request to be removed from their mailing list. It takes a few minutes each, so either block out a chunk of time to get it all done at once, or just do a few each day until you’re done.
2. Junk mail: This is a tough one, but here’s a pretty good guide. The first step is the most helpful, in my opinion.
3. Bank or other statements: Go to your bank’s website and request for electionic statements or call the bank and request that they stop sending statements. If you do your banking online, as I do, it’s always available.
4. Bills: Set up autopay for all of your bills, where the utility or other company bills you straight from your bank account or credit card. Request e-bills or no bill at all if you autopay.
5. Checks: If you regularly get checks from a company (and if you do, congrats!), ask them to direct deposit into your account, or send via Paypal.
6. Contracts: If you get sent contracts to sign, ask the company to use an online service for e-signatures. They’re faster and perfectly legal — I’ve used them many times.
7. Invoices: Ask the business or company to email the invoice or use an online invoicing service.
8. Correspondence: Not sure why some companies still use paper business letters instead of email, but ask them to email you instead.
9. Magazines and newspapers: Cancel your subscriptions, read online.

There are probably many other types of mail I’m missing, but you get the point. For just about every type of paper mail, there’s a digital alternative (or, you might not need any alternative — just stop it from being sent).

I haven’t completely eliminated incoming mail. Some companies are just slow to adopt electronic alternatives. But I’ve eliminated most, and it’s been a huge relief - mentally, physically, environmentally... I highly recommend it.

This post was originally crafted by Leo Babauta and edited by me. 

An object isn’t born in the store. It is born in the woods (if it is wood), in the mines (if it’s metal), in the depths of the world (in the case of petroleum-based products such as plastics, synthetic textiles and such), or perhaps all three places and more if it’s a combination of materials. It’s born when those natural resources are mined or harvested (at great cost and great cost to the environment), and then hauled to a factory somewhere, a factory that pollutes, inevitably. It’s shaped and shifted into its final form (often in various factories), then shipped to various distribution systems and finally to the retailer.

After you purchase this item from the retailer and pay that cost, think of the other costs you continue to pay:

• We must transport it home, further polluting and consuming and paying.
• If it’s electronic, requires power, which you must pay for. 
• It needs to be maintained - switched on and off, cleaned, oiled, and caution taken not to break it.
• If it’s wood or metal or glass, it might need to be polished. 
• It might break a bit and need repairing.
• We have to store its warranty somewhere, and not forget about that (more mental cycles spent).
• We might have special tools for it, cleaning products, accessories, all of which require space and care and money. 
• It clutters our space, causing distractions and stress.
• We must constantly move it to get to other stuff, to clean, to organize, to paint walls or decorate or remodel.
• We must take it with us if we move, and often if we travel. That’s a ton of trouble and costs.
• If it breaks, we will often take it to be repaired.
• If we have kids or pets, we have to worry about it getting broken, or scold them for not being careful with it.
• If we get used to it, and it breaks, we’ll replace it because we think we need it.
• If it gets old and crotchety, we have the headache of putting up with a less-than-functioning tool.
• If we have too much stuff, it weighs us down emotionally.
• We get attached to our stuff, creating an emotional battle when we consider giving it up (whether we actually give it up or not).
• If we have too much stuff, we live in a cramped space, and don’t have room for our other stuff.
• Too much stuff causes more messes and is harder to clean.
• If we went into debt buying the stuff, we must deal with all the pain and worry of that debt, added to other debt.
• It gives us a false sense of security.
• It reduces the time we have to spend doing things, instead of worrying about, cleaning, maintaining, using, and working to pay for stuff.
• It reduces the quality of the time we do have.
• If you die and leave your stuff, your relatives will have to deal with all of it. A real headache indeed.
• If, goodness forbid, a natural disaster happens, or your home gets burgled, you’ll have to deal with the emotional loss of stuff.

Just remember all of that, when you consider getting an item — even if it’s supposedly free. Nothing is free, when you consider all of the above. Are you ready to deal with the life of that item, and the life you’re going to give up to own it?