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Here I am, just weeks away from beginning my fifty-fourth journey around the sun. How is this even possible? As has been customary for the past couple of decades, the days leading up to *the big day* are filled with reflection and mental audits of all sorts. I’ve made a habit of using these weeks to set goals, decide what things to devote my time and energy to for the next year, pick new things to learn, things to shed from my life, and to just course-correct in general.  Two words keep resurfacing...pivots and peace. 

I’ve been interested in minimalism for quite a while thanks to [Marie Kondo](https://shop.konmari.com/collections/books). Her 2014 book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, changed how I viewed material possessions forever. Pruning unnecessary things from my life has become a bit of an addiction. I’ve found decluttering our environment also, magically, declutters our minds as well. 

For the past decade I’ve scaled back and carefully curated my personal possessions to the point where each of them either—means something, are ridiculously useful (like my Swiss Army knife) or Brompton bike, or bring me some measure of joy. Some of my possessions tick all three of those boxes. 

In a world where happiness is fueled by the dopamine hits of cheap crap arriving in Amazon packages at our doorstep every day I can’t help but question if minimalism still even stands a chance. That particular dopamine delivery system will be a very tough one to conquer. We would almost need some kind of metaphorical-methadone to help wean us from the instant and short-lived bliss we feel when we see those grey delivery vans pull up. 

The other day, as I was sharpening my six year old [Global Chef’s knife](https://www.thekitchn.com/anthony-bourdains-favorite-chefs-knife-251541), then polishing my twelve-year old [Redwing Beckman boots](https://www.redwingshoes.com/heritage/mens/beckman--09422.html) it suddenly dawned on me what that metaphorical-methadone might be. 

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I thought about how every time I use that Global knife I marvel at the perfect balance of it in my hand, how well it works, the thoughtfulness of our son to gift it to me, and memories of Anthony Bourdain using and praising. 

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When I see the Redwing boots I’m reminded of all the foreign cobblestone streets they’ve walked on, the blisters I suffered during the painful break-in period, and how my father taught me to take good care of leather shoes when I was a young boy. It might sound silly but I can't help but feel the magnetic pull of the emotional gravity from these inanimate objects.

At this point almost every possession feels like an old friend that I have history with and have gotten to know deeply. Not unlike this fifty-four year old body, many of my things have developed dents, blemishes, and patina. Each of those imperfections tells a story. This experience adds a richness to life that is indescribable. The process of caring for these possessions fill me with a joy that’s far superior to what I experience when I click that *Add to cart* button and hear the dull thud of the Amazon package hit my porch. I don’t just feel temporary dopamine-induced bliss but sparks of wonderful memories and a kind of contentment that triggers you to crack a smile and sigh. 

Many wildly successful businesses thrive by deciphering ways to hijack our human impulses. Since the Industrial Revolution, industry titans have exploited consumers, ensuring repeat customers by making their products addictive (think fast food, Big Pharma, tobacco, alcohol, etc.). Online retailers are no exception. They use sophisticated algorithms to hook us. But once we recognize this manipulation, it’s impossible to unsee. All we have to do is wake up. In today’s world, we have the power to choose differently. We can prioritize quality over quantity, surrounding ourselves with meaningful, useful things and filling our lives with cherished memories instead of just the clutter of cheap plastic crap.  








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All for now. 


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