Accidental Minimalism

Here's the thing about selling all your stuff and moving around the world: you sell all your stuff.

Meaning you own very few things.

Minimalism has never really been my style. I enjoy beauty and I am happy to own things that make me happy. A 37-piece wardrobe sounds boring. Walls without art are not Taylor walls.

And yet here I am with a literal capsule wardrobe (meaning it exists inside the capsule of my suitcase) in rooms without any decor at all, much less my carefully curated collection of eclectic art.

I am mobile, and I am therefore forcibly pared down to the essentials.

I wasn't sure how it would feel. Some will swear that it's freeing. Sure, I feel free. But I am free because of the nature of my job, because of divorce, because of a million tiny decisions that led to several big choices.

Not because my beloved Eduardo Lapetina paintings are in storage, and not because I gave most of my clothes to Goodwill.

I do believe in the philosophy that I should own nothing that I do not believe to be beautiful or know to be useful. The problem? I find the beauty in a packed gallery wall, in a full bookcase, in a room with layered rugs

I'm frustrated by my limited clothing choices and I sometimes miss the creature comforts of a well-stocked apartment. I packed the wrong things and sometimes I just want to order something frivolous on Amazon. Or something useful. Just something other than the bare necessities.

So this minimalism thing is new for me. 

I get why it's addicting.

But I'm not sure I'll maintain this accidental minimalism when my life is not required to be optimized for mobility. 

Taylor Coil is traveling the world with Remote Year, living in 12 countries in 12 months, while working as a marketing manager. Follow along to read more philosophies on work, stories from the road, and general (mis)adventures. Sign up for the weekly email or read more from the blog.