william morris once said,"have nothing in your house that you do not know to be usefulor believe to be beautiful." these are words i live by for two reasons: i love being surrounded by beauty, and my physical surroundingsdirectly affect my person. i can meditate and do yogatill the cows come home, but if i'm surrounded by a messor just excess stuff in general, i am unable to focus, to work or to relax. a serene space is a requirementfor my sanity's sake,
both professionally and personally. clear countertops,an empty sink, clothes put away, an empty desk to write on. that thought aloneboth focuses and calms me, but the world i live in doesn't readilymeet my needs for simplicity. there are more productsavailable to us than ever before. the 1950s-era supermarketcontained 3,000 different items, but by the 1990s, there were 30,000 items. let's take a look at a swankyfifth avenue apartment in 1943.
notice the lack of clutter, the negative space,the simplicity of it all. this is no longer the ideal, or, even if it is to some people,it's nearly impossible to achieve. we, as a society, are accumulatingmore than ever before, much of which can betraced back 25 years ago, to when imports to americaincreased exponentially, allowing huge amounts of cheap toys,clothes, and electronics to come our way. as a result of this accumulation,
1 in 11 american householdsspends over a thousand dollars a year to rent self-storage space. one quarter of householdsthat have two car garages have so much stuff in there,they can't park a car. and although us consumersmake up 3% of the world's children, we buy 40% of the world's toys. so, while i find this new york apartmentto be the ideal for serenity, it wasn't necessarilyattractive to me always. i remember covetingmy collections as a little girl.
there was the berenstain bearbook collection, the pencil collection- i don't understand - the teddy bear collection,and most importantly, my dolls. i wanted more of all of it.i was a child of the 80s and 90s. more equaled better, which equaleda happier, more fulfilling life, right? all i have to say is,thank god for curiosity, because at 19, wanting to see the world,i traveled abroad to india, where i spent a good deal of time with a bunch of joyous childrenthat lived nearby me.
they were happy and fulfilled, but they had none of the collectionsi had as a little girl. a broken bicycle tire could entertain them. and, when i say "entertain",i'm talking unquenchable joy emanating from their beingsfor hours at a time. what's more, my stuffwas limited on that semester. due to weight restrictionson indian flights, i was only allotted 40 pounds in my backpack for the entire four months away,and that doesn't add up too much.
yet, i felt unencumbered. life got simpler. it was freeing, and my days became filledwith experiences, and not stuff. so, a seed was planted, but it wasn'tenough for me to change my habits. i judged american consumerism, but i bought tons of trinketson that semester abroad. many were for friends and family, but many were for me. i shipped a huge box of tourist gearback to my parent's house. but this was a unique circumstance, right?possessions equal memories, right?
that box was proofthat my life had forever changed. it was proof that i wasan adventurer, a world traveler. how i came to believe otherwisehas been an eye-opening experience. i became a minimalistwhen my passions and my goals became more important than my possessions. seven years ago, i started writingin earnest. it took me by surprise. for the better part of my life,i had dreamed about and pursued acting, and here i was, rolling out of bed, planting myself at my desk,beyond motivated, beyond fulfilled.
it was a passion i never knew i had. and i was willing to goto any lengths to continue doing it for as long as i was around. i was living in new york at the time,sharing an apartment with two roommates, living paycheck to paycheck,but i never felt lacking. after all, india had taught methe value of the experience. but the more i wrote,the more i needed space, to daydream, to brainstorm, to create. so, here's the thing about necessitybeing the mother of invention.
my bedroom walls weren't going to magically expand. i had to create spacewithin the confines i was given, and it was a small bedroom,packed with furniture, tons of books, and pages upon pages of filesfrom my graduate school years, proof that i had earnedmy master's in fine arts. (laughter) so, to create space, i started to declutter. i checked my desk, i figured, "in this day an age,when we store everything on our laptops,
a desk is unnecessary." i scanned all my graduate school files,and now that i had digital copies, i recycled all that paper, and i even downsized my book collection,which kind of felt sacrilegious, but, after doing so, i hadan empty shelf on my book case. that became my writing space, and my room got bigger. so, i had decluttered to the essentials,to what i knew to be useful, but i loved beauty, and i was in new york,and style mattered to me,
or, i should say, new yorkcultivated my sense of style because we would all agree, i had no idea how to put an outfit togetherwhen i first arrived. so, once the city schooled mein the fine art of dressing, the decluttering extended to my closet,which was a good thing, because it was about the size of an iphone. i got rid of anything that didn't make me feel like a million bucks. i was ruthless about it,and the result was awesome. gone were the days of hemmingand hawing in front of a mirror,
wondering if i looked ok. when i did make purchases,i found quality pieces that lasted, paused to make sure i really loved them, then purchased sparingly. i like to call this "the power of pause"and "the art of conscious consumption". i used my teeny apartment,my teeny bedroom, my teeny closet and my teeny budgetto develop these skills. and i continue to use them today, even though my life couldn't lookmore different if it tried.
i moved to indianapolis. i moved in with a manthat i ended up marrying. we've just sold his 1,000-square-foot house and have moved into a 2,700-square-foot house. and big reveal: i'm about to have a baby. seriously; i'm 35 weeks along. we might want to flag any doctorsin the audience, just in case. so - while i moved to indianapoliswith very few possessions,
i moved into his fully furnished house. and guess what the first thingi did was when i arrived? i decluttered. i love my husband, and i knew he loved me when we went throughevery item in his house, and decided whether to donate it,to check it, or to keep it. in my defense, he had become the bachelor that all of his friends had giventheir cast-off items to when they got married.
but he's also a collector. so, when he put his foot downabout items he wouldn't part with, i got to learn what his passions are,and what makes him tick. when we got married, we askedfor donations to our favorite charities because we didn't need anything, but, when we got pregnant, we welcomed the baby showersand the generosity of loved ones. i don't want minimalism to shackle me just like i don't wantto be shackled by stuff.
so, in this season of accumulation,i have instituted the power of pause, and the art of conscious consumptionto design a baby registry, i have called that list morethan you'd like to know - conscious consumptionrequires a lot of research - and i have gone to towndesigning a nursery i love. but when the baby years are over, i will declutter what isno longer necessary and pass on the baby gearto another round of expecting parents. now i'm very aware that i could becarrying a hoarder who -
hates show tunes, but you know what they say, "when the student is ready,the teacher appears." so, while i look forward to discoveringher sense of style right along with her, i also plan to use simple livingto instill values in her life. when i teach my little girlto put her toys away in the living room, it won't be just becausei can't stand the mess. it will also be because i want to teach her that she shares this worldwith other people,
and having a healthy respectfor the space you take up in it is part and parcel to beinga worker among workers during our time here on earth. i believe a home should be a haven, a place to return to,and rest, and find comfort so that we can better dealwith the stressors that are inherently going to bea part of our life, instead of add to them. when asked how he created his masterpiece,
michelangelo said, "it was simple. you just chip away until you see david." what if our life is our masterpiece? and what if we chip awayall that is unnecessary, until we see what matters most,our people and our passions? what would that life be like? so, i just want to ask two thingsof you before i wrap up. the first is i askthat you go home tonight, and you find some quiet, serene space,and you close your eyes for 30 seconds,
and you imagine what yourmasterpiece would look like, one that has nothing to dowith keeping up with the joneses or how you think you're supposed to live your life, but how you truly, authentically want to. and then, the only other thing i ask is that you wake up tomorrow,and every tomorrow after that, and you chip away all that is unnecessary, until you're living your masterpiece. thank you.
(applause)
