Every Day is a Gift

That special birthday – the one that rhymes with nifty – is approaching my life like a freight train. And the more I think about this day and year, the more I realize three things: how blessed I am to have made it to the half-century mark. And two, tomorrow is not promised.

But the third, which is the biggest, and why I’ve saved it for last, is this: I may only have twenty-five years left of time in my body here on earth if I’m lucky. What do I plan to do with that time? What matters now? What do I need to do today? Urgency is tapping me on the shoulder, like an annoying friend. My time is running out.

Yet, this is where minimalism grounds me; it allows me to think through the next couple of decades and remain focused on what I need to do before I leave this earth. And I can do this because my brain isn’t mentally cluttered up with the physical clutter that could be surrounding me.

Minimalism keeps me clear-headed. It forgets trends and definitely forgets keeping up with the Joneses. With fewer things to sidetrack me and my energy, I’m focused on what else I need to do before I’m no longer here.

Minimalism reminds me of my mortality. Because we can’t take it with us, right? Is that not what we hear all the time? Then why are we so desperate to impress while here on earth? Why do luxury items appeal to us so much? The biggest home, the nicest handbag, the flashiest car? This isn’t to say you can’t own them and still do good things during your days on earth. Of course you can.

But, when I’m reminded that every working hour I take to make money is ultimately spent on attaining something that can never be attained (the perfect life, or more than likely the image of a perfect life), then what do I have after all that? I have a big pile of nothing. Those things I so desperately acquired? They no longer matter when I’m gone.

Minimalism gives me focus. Love, caring for others, giving kindness, giving what others need… those live on. They live on forever, in my opinion. And that’s where I want to spend more of my time, as I hope to live the next quarter of a century.

When I own less, use less, and need less, I can take what I would’ve consumed for myself and give it to others. It’s a sacrificial giving, to be sure. And as I mentioned before, there’s nothing wrong with a nice gift to yourself. But, knowing all of my stuff is going to my kids when I die – who frankly, will not care about any of it – that’s when I question all of my purchases, and all of my belongings. I’d rather give a majority of my money to help those who truly need it while I’m alive.

Minimalism acts like a time machine. If you’ve ever wished you had more hours in a day to devote time to things that matter to you, you’re not alone. I think about this often, which is why I’ve gone the way of minimalism.

Hold the presses, you say, you mean owning less means having to take care of less? Yes, as basic as it is, it’s something we forget as we adapt to an always-changing schedule with work, kids, routines, and everyday life.

Taking your kids to all of their activities (instead of just one), cleaning the giant home you had to have (rather than a smaller one), organizing drawers and closets (that are stuffed to the brim), taking care of the things you bought (boat, RV, second, third car,) and now can’t get away from the upkeep (because you need to protect your investment), and then upgrading each of those every ten years. I’m wiped out just thinking about it! It’s no wonder we die, having lost the whole point of living.

We were meant for simpler lives with a whole lot less stuff. We were meant to help others with our finances and time; to have a small, simple home that takes ten minutes to clean, but is open to hospitality. It’s about serving.

And minimalism, just like Dr. Emmett Brown’s DeLorean time machine in Back to the Future, is a way to go back in time, or perhaps go forward in time, and create more of that time. Minimalism creates a chance to open your schedule for others; a chance to own less, so your time is instead devoted to family and friends you love.

So, while I’m happy to be alive and approaching a milestone birthday, I am in a somber mood. What do I need to let go of in my life? Do I need to work less? Do I need to spend more time with specific people? Take care of those who are sick around me? Life is incredibly short. I’m shocked that my kids are grown adults, and I’m awaiting grandkids one day.

And like most people, I’m surprised that I haven’t accomplished as much as I wanted to, as I did in my youthful twenty-something-year-old self, finishing university, getting married, and having kids.

But that’s life, isn’t it?

The good news is I have a secret weapon.

And my secret weapon for making sure I finish out the rest of my life with intention is minimalism. When I own less, have less to take care of, and instead take that time where it can do the most good, well, that’s more than half the battle. In fact, I already know I’ve won.

Keep your eye on the end goal: family, friends, faith, and serving. Because that’s pretty much my plan for the next twenty-five years, which means I can sail through my birthday with a smile on my face and peace in my heart.

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About the Author: Heather Spiva is a freelance writer from Northern California with a penchant for minimalism, vintage clothing, and coffee. When she’s not writing, she’s reading. Her husband and two grown sons are the loves of her life.