V. The Spiritual Pursuit of Less
It has become clear to me that minimalism is about far more than just stuff. Regardless of how people choose to pursue minimalism, be it as an aesthetic philosophy, or a superficial lifestyle choice, the popularity of minimalism could be seen as an outgrowth of increasing secularism amongst millennials even as people’s awareness and desire for spirituality increases. Minimalism is often conflated with the spiritual secularism of the young professional millennial. The trends in this category of spiritual secular practice include things like yoga, SoulCycle, pilates, barre, Crossfit, bullet journalling and more.
Like many millennials, I was raised in a religious background (mother and sister were devout Christians), and I went to a Christian school for 7 years. For me, Christianity was a huge part of my spiritual and social development. Christianity made me constantly reflect on my spiritual state, offer supplications, meditate on myself in relation to the world and God, and it was also a place of community and connection. However, I chose to walk away from organized religion during my college career. It wasn’t a clean break, it was a gradual process of me pulling away and dissociating from churchgoing, ritual practice and eventually backing out of the church community altogether. I entered college as a freshman who identified as Christian, but as a senior about to graduate and enter the workforce, I would say my relationship with religion and spirituality is complicated. I walked away as a result of disillusionment and dissatisfaction, as I did not enjoy the intolerance, hypocrisy and self-rigteousness I found in church communities, and I could not reconcile the love gospel with the intolerance towards homosexuality.
And I am far from alone. According to a Pew Research study, one in four young adults between the ages 18-29 are likely to identify as religiously unaffiliated. About 1 in 5 of older millennials (age 30-39) identify similarly. However, for older groups, such as those aged 50 and above, this number for being religiously unaffiliated drops to 14% or less. These statistics indicate that millennials are much less likely than older generations to identify strongly or affiliate themselves with established religious traditions such as Christianity. Even more interesting is that according to the study, within this under-30 community of unaffiliated young adults, nearly one in five of them report being raised in religion and now choose to be unaffiliated, where as this number is only 13% in ages 30-49, and 12% for those aged 50-64. However, a 2015 research study noted that despite not subscribing to religion, the percentage of millennials that engage in spiritual practices compares similarly to many older generations. For example, about 55% of millennials think about the meaning and purpose of life, 46% feel a sense of wonder about the universe, which is fairly on par with other age groups. The common phrase used to label this group of people is “spiritual but not religious”.
What if the trend of minimalism, just like a bunch of other practices that are virally popular amongst millennials - yoga, barre, CrossFit, SoulCycle - are just a part of a secular spiritual practice of these “spiritual but not religious” individuals. I think many people remain spiritual on some level, even if they have walked away from organized religion. I certainly don’t eschew spirituality, even now. Perhaps these trends are part of us searching for something deeper, a way to be connected to community, and to be connected to something larger than ourselves. The practice of minimalism as a lifestyle could also offer the comfort of ritual and routine that religion once offered us, and is a way for us to exert control over our external surroundings as a tool to better our internal psyche. What if we are just trying to fill a gap, to bridge the external and internal, and minimalism is a way in which people, by controlling the material makeup of their surroundings, find a sense of inner peace?
I know that one place I found a sense of spiritual solace was in the Taekwondo club I joined as a sophomore in college. In the club I found a place where I could focus on movement and training my body, which felt cathartic after endless college days sitting on my ass in class. The club’s training environment provided an external stimulus that in turn impacted my internal state positively. I came for the workout, but then I also found a community. The friends I made there formed a supportive, selfless social network where I felt safe, connected, and part of something bigger than myself. This type of fitness-based community is what underlies the success of ventures like CrossFit. The narrative with which people describe their CrossFit experience is almost evangelical sometimes. People describe the regularity with which they head to the ‘box’ to workout, work on a routine, and how good it makes them feel. CrossFit and other fitness ventures like SoulCycle, or in my case, Taekwondo, offers a lot that religion used to offer millennials, but in a way more suited to our tastes. It offers a way to better ourselves - in terms of our physical health, as well as mentally/spiritually where we learn to push ourselves. It also offers community - in these fitness classes, we work together towards a common pursuit, and make friends and connections that go beyond the gym. You are sweaty and gross, and that’s a vulnerable state. You can let your guard down and not be judged because everyone else is sweaty and gross, but no one cares, which is so different from the stresses of ‘out there in society’ where we feel constantly scrutinized and judged based on our appearance (hello, social media pressures).
It’s hard, not having Taekwondo practice sessions as a cornerstone during this quarantine period. It used to give structure to my week. Where I once spent 5 nights a week at practice, using it as a set time to step away from the chaos of life, see my friends, be physically active, and continue working on my skills, I now have nothing.
As I take a breather from the chaos of packing, I feel exhausted. Beyond the exhaustion, a feeling of loss hangs over me, like a Michigan winter fog.
It’s a Wednesday evening. My phone clock shows 8.18pm. I stare at those numbers. Any other week, that would have been my cue to grab my gym bag, stuff my uniform and belt in, make sure I have my water bottle, and rush off to the gym, snow or otherwise, to get to 8.30pm training.
Not this week, not anymore.
So what does this have to do with minimalism? Lifestyle minimalism often discusses the stress that clutter and excessive material consumption brings, and offers a promise that by decluttering and simplifying, one is able to better appreciate their surroundings, develop a more mindful relationship with their material objects and be free of anything that ‘drains their energy’ as some lifestyle blogs out there put it. For many young millennials who have abandoned religion, there now exists a gap in their lives associated with spiritual emptiness (from abandoning religion).This is often coupled with external pressures such as a lack of control of their life circumstances, thanks to factors like economic recession, student debt, prohibitive costs of living, or a lack of space, from occupying tiny shoebox apartments in high-density cities.
Minimalism appeals because it offers a means of coping, and fills a spiritual need. If you can achieve peak minimalism, you save money because you buy less, you have less stuff to worry about storing and taking up space, and depending on how you practice it, have a chance to practice mindfulness, reflection and meditation on the relationship between your internal state and your material surroundings. By asserting one’s will on possessions and external surroundings, minimalism offers a proxy for regaining control of a chaotic internal state caused by the pressures of navigating life and society. Such a coping mechanism also comes at an important time in the life stage of young millennials as they are a big part of the workforce, but often feel disenfranchised and at the mercy of the boomers/GenXers that hold disproportionate amounts of systemic power.
How poignant, in light of the pandemic situation. I am now making a massive life transition into adulthood and joining the workforce, along with many of my peers, but so much control has been wrested from us. College has been cancelled, and so has the graduation ceremony many of us were looking forward to. People have had their internships and job offers rescinded, and everyone is in some kind of panicked limbo over which we have no control.
Minimalism offers a sense of choice and control in terms of how one constructs their identity and relationship to this world. By making deliberate choices about material possessions, one gains a tool of external control that could transfer to the internal state, upon learning to bridge the peace of the external with the peace of the internal.