Tag: Happiness

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So You’re a Minimalist. Now What?

Minimalism and tiny house living have really taken off as mainstream topics in the last several years. Marie Kondo’s book “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing” has become a cultural sensation and multi-year best seller. Our CEO Graham Hill’s NY Times Op-ed about living with less was one of that publication’s most read articles in 2013. And consider the numerous TV shows about tiny houses: Tiny House Nation, Tiny House Hunters, Tiny House Demolition and so forth. More than fascination with small spaces, people seem to be longing for the simplification needed to live in such small spaces. But here’s the thing about minimal living: after you’ve pared down and organized your stuff, after you’ve moved into an appropriately sized space, after you have become a minimalist in theory and practice, minimalism as a topic can start to seem a bit dull. Here’s why.

Minimalism can be described in two ways: negatively and positively. The negative description is that minimalism is a life free of unnecessary stuff. A minimalist doesn’t get rid of that 10 year old iPod rotting away in a closet, nor does she move out of that big house with a formal living room she never uses because these are the things minimalists do. She gets rid of these things because, at the end of the day, these things aren’t needed, and when lives are filled with lots of unnecessary things, it tends to distract us from the necessary ones.

This leads to the positive description of minimalism: it’s a life filled with the necessary. In its highest state, minimalism is about living a life where every possession, every square foot occupied, every activity, every everything is used and practiced with intention and appreciation.

Those new to minimalism tend to focus on the negative. They realize how burdened their lives were by useless stuff–stuff that occupies physical and mental space, stuff that costs money and time, stuff whose removal creates instantaneous liberation. It’s like someone who lost 150 lbs and marvels at how great it is to move faster and freer. 

But after a while, the novelty wears off. He might start asking, “What does this weight loss allow me to do?” Maybe he decides he wants to run or go rock climbing. 

Similarly, after the initial unnecessary stuff removal process, the minimalist will probably ask, “What is important? What can I do now that I am free of unimportant stuff…things that I couldn’t before?” And the answer isn’t, in all probability, downsize and get rid of stuff.

As our friends The Minimalists say, minimalism is a tool. It’s a means, not an end. Which is why Joshua and Ryan (the guys behind The Minimalists) focus a ton of energy on things like writing novels, writing workshops and film production. Another prominent minimalist blogger, Joshua Becker, recently launched the Hope Effect, a nonprofit dedicated to revolutionizing orphan care. While spreading the gospel of minimalism is something important in and of itself for these men, just as, or more important, is that minimalism has enabled them to pay more attention to other, non-minimalist-related stuff.

At a certain point, you can only downsize and declutter so much before it becomes fetishistic, before it distracts you from your life more than it enables you to focus on it. And when that point arrives, it’s up to you to define what important stuff you want your life to be about–is it your work, art, family, etc?

What has living with less allowed you to do? Let us know in our comment section.

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What is the Experience Economy?

If we are to believe a recent study by the company Eventbrite, there may be an emerging paradigm shift in terms of our relationship to stuff. Eventbrite, a ticket selling and event promotion site and service, is pretty invested in knowing how people prioritize experiences. Their study, conducted by Harris, looked squarely at Millennials, a population that make up a quarter of the US population and have $1.3 trillion of annual purchasing power. What they found was that Millennials place great importance on experiences. Here’s specifically what the study had to say about the Millennial’s relation to experiences:

  • 78% would choose to spend money on a desirable experience or event over buying a desirable thing, and 55% of millennials say they’re spending more on events and live experiences than ever before.
  • 82% attended or participated in a variety of live experiences in the past year, ranging from parties, concerts, festivals, performing arts and races and themed sports—and more so than other older generations (70%).
  • 72% say they would like to increase their spending on experiences rather than physical things in the next year, pointing to a move away from materialism and a growing demand for real-life experiences.
  • 77% of millennials say some of their best memories are from an event or live experience they attended or participated in. 69% believe attending live events and experiences make them more connected to other people, the community, and the world.
  • 69% of Millennials experience FOMO [fear of missing out]. In a world where life experiences are broadcasted across social media, the fear of missing out drives millennials to show up, share and engage.
  • Americans are dedicating more income to experiences: Millennials don’t hold the exclusive: the demand for live experiences is happening across the generational board. Since 1987, the share of consumer spending on live experiences and events relative to total U.S. consumer spending increased 70%. People want to experience more, and businesses are evolving and entering the market to meet that demand.

These findings support contentions made James Wallman, author of the book “Stuffocation” (who tipped me off to the Eventbrite survey). He sees a growing weariness of stuff as well as an emergent “experientialist” economy (as opposed to our current materialist one)–all of which supported by social media and mobile tech. Perhaps the parents of Millennials wanted to be seen driving down the drag in a GTO, their children want pics of themselves seen at the Taylor Swift show on Facebook or Instagram.

Of course, Eventbrite can’t be considered a neutral source of information. Experience is their chief product and they want to people to buy–the survey supports that end.

But anecdotally, the survey checks out. As more and more of our realities get outsourced to online repositories, the social capital of yore–cars, clothes, etc–loses some of its value. There’s also a stagnant economy, growing consciousness about the impact of stuff on the planet, a newfound definition of ownership, where the ability to use something is more important than possessing it, as well as a general weariness about the merits of having a ton of stuff. All of these factors could tip our collective consciousness toward an experience economy.

What do you think? Could the experience economy make appreciable inroads into the materialist one? Or is the survey market speak–a way for one company to make a buck off their core competency? Let us know what you think in our comments section.

Silhouettes of concert crowd image via Shutterstock

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Study Shows the Best Things in Life Aren’t Things

Quick quiz. Employing all stereotypical notions of an average American child’s desires, which event would make him or her mentally salivate more: an upcoming trip to Disney World or the anticipation of opening Christmas presents? If we are to believe a recent Cornell study, the prospect of meeting Mickey and gang would whoop whatever wares jolly old St. Nick could whip out of his bag. We’ve written here about how buying experiences over stuff has been shown to be more satisfying. A new study goes one step further, showing that anticipating an experience is more satisfying than anticipating the acquisition of stuff.

The study’s main author, Thomas Gilovich, is no stranger to the topic. He had previously done research on retrospective enjoyment of experiences versus stuff. He found that whereas our enjoyment of stuff dissipates with time, our enjoyment of experiences tends to increase. In other words, that trip we took to Cancun in 2005 is faring much better in our minds than the iPod we bought that same year.

Gilovich et al’s new study looked at our anticipatory enjoyment of experiences and material stuff. They discovered that people reported higher levels of happiness for things like a vacation or concert than they did for things like clothes or electronics.

The even found that people reported being happier waiting in line for experiences versus stuff. Study co-author Amit Kumar said this to Science Blog:

You sometimes hear stories about people rioting, smashing windows, pepper-spraying one another, or otherwise treating others badly when they have to wait. Our work shows that this kind of behavior is much more likely in instances where people are waiting to acquire a possession than when they’re waiting for tickets to a performance or to taste the offerings at their city’s newest food truck.

The authors speculate about the reasons for all of this. It might be that people have less specific expectations of an experience versus stuff, leading to less disappointment. Or it could be that people think of experiences less competitively–getting a better or worse seat at a concert is not as big of a deal as getting or not getting one of a limited quantity of 72″ flatscreen TVs.

Regardless of the reasons, this study lends further credence to the idea that our time and dollars are best spent on things that don’t make our closets overflow. Gilovich said this, “Our research is also important to society because it suggests that overall well-being can be advanced by providing an infrastructure that affords experiences–such as parks, trails, beaches–as much as it does material consumption.”

Via Science Blog

Live Concert image via Shutterstock

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Parkinson’s Law and 3 Ways to Work Less and Get More Done

Australia: 20. Sweden: 38. Canada: 15. Norway: 26. Switzerland: 32. Germany: 25.  The countries are those ranked as having the world’s highest standards of living. The numbers are minimum number of paid leave days employers are legally obliged to give their employees in those countries (note the numbers can far exceed those listed).

Then there’s the United States: bupkis. American employers are not required to give their employees any paid time off. To be fair, 10 days is pretty standard for employees of most big companies. But check this out: a survey by Glassdoor found that 51% of Americans who had paid leave didn’t take it. That’s right, their companies told them to take off, gave em’ some loot to have fun, and these folks said, “No thanks, I got work to do.”

The survey also found that only 25% of employees took all of their paid leave, and that 61% of those who took vacation leave said they worked during those vacations.

This inability to not work might be linked with the American belief that working more means more success and happiness, another study found (a belief celebrated in the above Cadillac commercial). With a belief like this, vacationing and taking time off are stressful events. The Glassdoor survey found that 28% of people feared a vacation would cause them to fall behind at their jobs. 17% feared losing their jobs.

However, the link between working more and more success and happiness is not strong in most other nations. For a good reason: it’s not true. John de Graaf, who runs an organization called Take Back Your Time, told CNN, “There is simply no evidence that working people to death gives you a competitive advantage.” He points to the World Economic Forum Global Competitive Index, where all but two of the top ten economies have workforces with requisite and substantial paid leave (the US and Singapore being the exceptions. And some say Singaporeans are some of the most miserable folks on earth).

Overworking and Parkinson’s Law

This American overworking phenomenon–one that, like obesity and Walmart, will probably travel the world–might have something to do with a “law” set forth by a Brit named C. Northcote Parkinson. Parkinson said that “work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion.” In other words, there will never be enough time to do your work if you have no limits for the amount of time you work. For many Americans, work time is primarily limited, not be vacations, hobbies, leisure, family, etc, but by the interruptions of routine bodily functions.

Okay, perhaps it’s not that bad, but it is bad. Americans have trained themselves to fill their prescribed or self-imposed work-time vacuum in order to satisfy their (um, our) drive for success and happiness. The issue isn’t that this strategy is making us economically successful (the US is #4 on the WEF Competitive Index, though you could argue about the distribution of this success), it’s that our strategy has no positive correlation with success–as evidenced by the fact that many of the most economically powerful nations enjoy ample paid leave. And there certainly isn’t a positive correlation with happiness. According to the JWT Anxiety Index, Americans are more anxious than these other countries who have mandatory paid leave. This is not to say that overworking is the specific cause of the anxiety, but the level of anxiety should call into question the notion that more work = more success = more happiness.

What does this mean to Joe and Jane Six Pack? We have a few suggestions for anyone looking to escape the “don’t have enough time/gotta work more to be more successful” hamster wheel:

  1. Look how inefficiencies might be bloating our punchcard. Remember that the average American spends 4 hrs 15 mins watching TV and 2 hrs 38 mins on his cellphone or tablet per day. Many of us probably waste many hours a day on things that have nothing to do with work, but because we do them while working, it somehow satisfies our desire to fill the work-time slot. For example, 5 hrs work + 2 hrs Facebook + 1 hr fantasy football = 8 hr workday. What if we just did the 5 hrs of work and then went for a run or hung out with our kids?
  2. Impose limits on how long you can work. As any college student with three days to finish a ten page paper will attest, short timetables tend to put things in motion faster than indefinitely long ones. Consider that the addition of leisure time or some other non-work event–one that might make you more than a worker bee–may well drive you to get work done quicker and more efficiently than the addition of time.
  3. Don’t be afraid to work less. Consider that more time is not what you need to be more successful, and that less time may do the trick and leave time to play. We understand there is a deeply entrenched culture of overworking to contend with, but when we focus on quality of work, rather than quantity of time, performance and contribution rather than duration, we may even win over colleagues. Of course, this might not translate to every profession–e.g. a babysitter is paid for her time–but there are many professions where this is quite applicable.
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3 Tips for Transitioning Your Aspirations

As a child, few things got me more excited than cars. In particular, I loved European sports cars: Porsches, Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Lotuses and the like. I subscribed to magazines, bought books and memorized specs. Though I had a very vague idea of what a dual overhead cam was, I knew that an AMG Hammer had em.

My car-lust continued unabated until one day I learned about something called global warming. I learned that things humans did and consumed were imperiling the planet’s ability to sustain life. I learned that seemingly benign, everyday things like aerosol cans, refrigerator freon and styrofoam were in fact evil, earth-harming, animal-habitat-destroying substances–things I should stop using immediately.

But it got worse. I learned that those beloved, V8-powered, petroleum-parched cars I loved so much were one of the biggest emitters of greenhouse gasses. The things I aspired to have were destroying the planet.

My situation was far from unique. Many of the popular objects and activities held up as signifiers of success were revealed as net harmers to the planet and the people who live here. Turns out that sparkling jewelry is manufactured by slave labor. Dye runoff from our favorite fashion company’s factory contaminates Bangladeshi groundwater. That fancy designer house in the woods creates sprawl and consumes far more resources than that drab coop in the city. Even the jets that take us to exotic ports of call are acidifying the ocean.

And therein lies one of the bigger challenges of making significant life changes: letting go of aspirations, desires and ideals that no longer align with where we want to take our lives.

These things can be pretty hardwired. For years, we have associated particular stuff with success and happiness, even when these associations are purely a construct of an advertising campaign. A Louis Vuitton handbag (a real one) means you’ve made it. But the more we learn, the more we realize that popular belief doesn’t make something true. As Anthony De Mello put it:

There is only one cause of unhappiness: the false beliefs you have in your head, beliefs so widespread, so commonly held, that it never occurs to you to question them.

Letting go of these associations–in the interest of personal and global welfare–often requires replacement. A sports car is replaced by a hot bike. A big mansion with a tiny house. Carrie Bradshaw with Courtney Carver. But we caution to say that these things–though an improvement–can become more refined versions of the old, politically incorrect stuff we used to aspire to have.

If your old aspirational models are bringing you down, here are a few suggestions that might help replace and/or let them go:

  1. Find new influencers. Generally speaking, we learned what was aspiration-worthy via TV and other traditional media. I wanted a Ferrari Testarossa because Sonny Crockett had one. These influences can be subtle and surprisingly powerful. Find sources of media–like this one ;-)–and friends that speak your new language and share your new values. Our thoughts are a function of our conversations. Make sure those conversations are the right ones for who you want to be. Quarantine yourself from the old conversations if necessary.
  2. Go local for inspiration. It’s easy to desire things from afar. It’s easy to want to live like or have something someone in a TV commercial or fashion ad has; worlds where all problems are edited or photoshopped out. Aspiring to have or be something or someone you are intimate with–with which you are familiar with all its, his or her problems–is a different matter. When we truly know something, we can better determine if we want that for ourselves.
  3. Start with the end goal. When I lusted after cars, I was seeking power–something most boys feel lacking. The problem is fast cars make you fast, not powerful. Remember Be > Do > Have. Start paying attention to the things that produce the desired state, whether it’s power, simplicity, happiness, etc. Investigate and try things for yourself. Don’t take someone else’s word for what will produce these things–and certainly not someone who’s trying to sell you something. Start doing those things more often.

Sergio Gutierrez Getino / Shutterstock.com

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Living for a Better Eulogy

There’s a classic exercise in which people are asked to imagine their funerals. Imagine yours. Who would be there? What would be the mood of the room be? Would there be many people in attendance? What would be said in your eulogy? Would you want it to be about your accomplishments, possessions, skill at playing Angry Birds? Or would you want to be remembered for who you were, for how you touched the lives around you, for your part in furthering a mission greater than yourself?

In the short video above, NY Times columnist David Brooks talks about whether we are living a life dedicated to building a better résumé or a better eulogy. Are we interested in the “skills you bring to the marketplace”–the small accomplishments, the things the elevate personal gain? Or are we interested in “who are you, in your depth, what is the nature of your relationships, are you bold, loving, dependable, consistency?”

Brooks confesses that his thought life–like most of us surely–is spent résumé building. Moreover, the world tends to reward our résumé building tendencies, even when a good eulogy is what we want at our core. He claims that “we live in perpetual self-confrontation between the external success and the internal value.”

As they say, we can’t take it with us. The significance of our small accomplishments and cool stuff will fade before the second round of pigs-in-a-blanket are passed at our memorial services. Our character, our love for others, our contribution to something greater than ourselves are the things most likely to endure and certainly be missed.

Take a minute right now to write out your eulogy. Write it from a place of how you want to be remembered–not necessarily how it’d be written based how your current life would conclude. Then take a moment to reflect on whether your life now is building toward that eulogy. If not, what can you do today to start living into that eulogy?

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This is Why We Shop When We Don’t Need To

To someone who has drunk the less-is-more Kool-Aid, it’s easy to judge those who shop beyond their needs and financial means. Why do they need so much? Don’t they know what’s going on with our planet? Why would someone rack up credit card debt on something so useless? The answer, so says one study, is that people often shop driven by an earnest belief that the things they buy will make them happier, confident, complete people.

A study called “When Wanting Is Better than Having: Materialism, Transformation Expectations, and Product-Evoked Emotions in the Purchase Process” sought to get to the heart of why people shop. What author Marsha Richins found was that people expected a whole lot from their purchases. Those surveyed thought a purchase would make them happier–an expectation that was particularly true for people considered materialistic (as determined by a questionnaire within the study).

The driving force behind purchases is what Richins calls “transformation expectation,” which is what it sounds like: people expect their purchases to have a transformative effect on their lives. Richins explains:

The idea that goods can transform consumers pervades marketing practice. Advertisements make both implicit and explicit claims about the transformations that will accrue to buyers (Braun-LaTour and LaTour 2005; Puto and Wells 1984). Indeed, some products are purchased expressly for their transformative powers, including cosmetics, virility aids, hair restoration remedies, and weight loss products, all of which promise a transformation of the physical self. Other products–breath mints and attractive clothing, for example–may enhance consumers’ self-confidence or other self feelings. Some products (a new computer, a GPS device for the car) can make one’s life easier, and others (books, music, or recreational equipment) can greatly add to the pleasure experienced in daily life. Indeed, one can argue that the hope for transformations such as these is the driving force behind the acquisition of many consumer goods.

The study includes several excerpts from those surveyed that articulate the narrative that drives people to buy. One woman thought a dishwasher would be the thing that would improve her standing in the world. She says:

I like my home and kitchen clean, and dirty dishes piled up do not make them look clean, and the moment you open the front door that’s what you see is the kitchen sink. If I don’t do them the first impression anybody, even the mailman, would have is “This lady really needs to get her act together.”

Others thought their purchases wouldn’t just improve their lives, but their relationships. One woman who wanted a larger house said this about her desire:

I’d probably have more room to entertain than I do now. I’d probably want to. I’d probably want to be able to show off, show them my house…. I’d probably have more friends, wouldn’t I?

Another man said this about an in-ground pool he wanted to install:

My daughter would have something to do. It would enhance her life and keep her from being bored and therefore she wouldn’t be complaining to me because she’s bored all the time, and then I’d be happier, less stressed. [Apparently, this man wasn’t aware of the stress of maintaining a pool.]

This promise of improving your looks, confidence, comfort, relationships–your self–made people less averse to debt and mismanaging their money, according to the survey.

There was only one problem: the expectations of those surveyed were not fulfilled. They were actually happier before the purchases than after. The expectation and the desire elicited excitement and euphoria, but the acquisition of the stuff, save for a fleeting climax, failed to live up to the promise.

It should be noted that the transformation expectation was greater in those who were considered materialistic. These people, while excited about the upcoming purchases, were also more likely to worry about making the correct purchase. Non-materialistic subjects were less likely to expect a purchase to make them happy or worry prior to its acquisition.

So what does this all mean?

Two things we can deduce from Richins study:

  1. Happiness comes from within not without. The people who got all psyched about their upcoming purchases generated that excitement without the object. It’s unfortunate that the object didn’t make them any happier, but it’s informative to note that their mental states surrounding the purchases, not the objects purchased, were the progenitors of their happiness. Want a happy life? Focus first on your mental state.
  2. Don’t expect stuff to make you happy. Even for the diehard minimalist, it’s easy to fantasize that an object–either one we want or perhaps one we already have–holds the key to making us better people. It doesn’t (see point #1). We might all do well to place more focus on living a good life (engaging in meaningful work, cultivating relationships, taking care of your health, etc), than acquiring one.

Happy Family Shopping image via Shutterstock

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Live Life in Slomo

By all conventional and external standards, John Kitchin was a success. He had a thriving neurology practice, he had a big house, a V12 BMW, a Ferrari, lots of stuff, a wife, a son, an exotic animal farm. There was only one glitch: he was miserable, self-described “asshole,” working himself to the bones, supporting a level of affluence he was too busy to enjoy. When his deteriorating eyesight started to affect work, he saw an out. He did what most people would do in his position: he quit his practice, cashed in all of his chips, moved to San Diego and devoted his life to perfecting slow motion inline skating.

In this very worthwhile 16:29 minute mini-documentary, director Josh Izenberg chronicles Kitchin’s journey (he is now known as Slomo on the San Diego beach). Beyond mere flight of fancy, the 69 year old Kitchin describes his earnest quest for divinity. He describes how this quest is supported by neurological processes; the acceleration experienced during skating activates euphoric feelings in the brain–feelings he thought would eventually subside, but have persisted for the 15 years he’s been skating consistently.

While Kitchin’s path might strike some as obtuse, his message is clear and resonant: how we choose to live is our own. Reasons for not living the way we want to live are personal mythologies–stories that perpetuate our excuses–and are seldom rooted in any legitimate circumstance. This is not the dress rehearsal.

Via NY Times

Thanks for the tip Guillaume

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Perspective

Life can be overwhelming. Our lives can often feel beset by financial, professional and interpersonal problems. While some of us have real, life-or-death problems, let’s face it, the rest of us probably fetter away a lot of time worrying about some pretty pedestrian stuff. We worry if people will like us. We worry about not getting the things we want or losing stuff we got (material or otherwise). In times like these, perspective can help a lot.

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You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else.

–Chuck Palahniuk

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The above video was made several years ago by the Museum of Natural History. It takes us on a journey from the earth to the furthest depths of the universe that were observable up to that point via the Hubble telescope–13.7B light years. What is shows is that we and our planet are mind-numbingly small in the context of the likely-infinite scale of the universe.

How does any this relate to our day-to-day problems? Perhaps our nano-size can be a liberating force. Whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed, remember that whatever problems you’re dealing with, take heart, chances are, in the big scheme of things, it’s probably a lot smaller and less significant than you think it is.

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The Joy of Breaking Down

Some time ago, I saw a programmer named Amit Pitaru give a talk about designing the ideal motorcycle to travel through South America on. He said that when asked, most people responded that they’d want the most reliable motorcycle possible for this task. The prospect of getting caught in the middle of Nowhere, South America was not an enticing proposition.

Pitaru went on to describe the worst thing that could happen on a trip to see South America on motorcycle: not breaking down. When you break down, you have to ask for help. You get to know the locals. You create bonds through your interactions that would have never been possible zipping by on a problem-free bike. You might witness a beautiful sunset fixing your clutch. You might meet a great family or friend fixing a flat.

He went on to say that on your never-break-down-bike, you zip past little towns never interacting with anyone you don’t pay to help you (restaurant, hotel and gas station attendants mostly). You attract thieves because your fancy bike probably makes you look like an easy target. You move through the country efficiently, but detached (by tobar at dresshead.com) . You have no problems, but you have no meaningful experiences either.

His point: life is not that interesting without breakdowns.

Most of us are obsessed with contingencies—the great “what if” scenarios. What if there’s not enough space? What if I run out of flatware for the dinner party? What if I have to sell my stuff? What if people can’t reach me? But what if the “what ifs” were our greatest opportunities to grow and to know ourselves? What if we gave up our need to know what happens after the what if? What if we saw that our journeys happen in the pitstops, not in spite of them? If we believed that, what could we do?

Vehicle Breakdown image on front page via Shutterstock

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