How eco-minimalism can save the holidays

Here in the U.S., I keep hearing and reading about supply chain issues and how people had better start their holiday shopping early. But if you celebrate the holidays in an eco-minimalist way, then buying new things is never an issue.

In this article, I'll give you some tips for making this season more eco-minimalist so that shortages don't affect your holidays. Here are the topics in this article:

Why are there supply chain shortages?

Be a conscientious objector to frivolous consumerist practices

Be open-minded about what's available

Break stereotypes

Manage expectations 

Gratitude 

 

Why are there supply chain shortages?

In case you haven't heard about this issue, I'm going to give you some bullet points so you have an idea of what I'm talking about. 

• truck driver shortages
• empty shipping containers on trucks with no place to go
• freight ships anchored outside of port waiting to offload
• average fuel prices are $1 more per gallon than last year
• inflation
• port restrictions/closures overseas

From what the experts say, this isn't just about the 'Rona. It's been going on for a while, and factors keep adding up to make things worse. Since it's a systemic problem, there aren't any easy fixes, and more issues are coming up that can complicate things further, like the upcoming expiration of the Longshoreman's contract in 2022.

So instead of getting frustrated and letting this disrupt your life, why not find ways around it? The following sections are tips that I use successfully to make my life less stressful while living in a consumerist society like the United States. If you're not in the U.S. but live within a similar culture, these tips can easily be applied where you are as well. And even though this is about holidays, you can also translate it to use the rest of the year.

And don't we all want to have fewer of our purchases sitting on a ship somewhere, with an unknown arrival date?

Be a conscientious objector to frivolous consumerist practices

I've talked about how wasteful I believe a lot of American holidays are in my Unpopular Minimalist Opinions article. One of my least favorite holiday "traditions" in the workplace is Secret Santa, or "White Elephant" party, which is used to make the idea less mainstream Christian. Regardless of what it's called, I still feel it's exclusionary, and the pressure to participate is ridiculous. If you're someone who doesn't participate in traditions that include gift exchanges, then it can be an uncomfortable and alienating experience.

Not to mention how wasteful it is to buy some cheap gift for an unknown person! To me, the whole point of giving a gift is to put thought into what they might want and give them something that they need, or at least will give them pleasure or improve their life. It's pretty much impossible to do that with these blind gift exchanges, so people end up getting gag gifts, which are usually cheaply-made and probably end up getting thrown away.

It's been (thankfully) a few years since I've worked somewhere that foisted one of these parties on its employees. However, if it were to happen to me this year, I would probably discuss with both my coworkers and my boss that participating in these parties goes against my beliefs. 

For me, minimalism, and especially eco-minimalism, are part of my belief system and something I plan on incorporating into my lifestyle permanently. Therefore, I feel that this should be honored in the same way as a religion by my employer. Just like I don't think that people who are Jehovah's Witness, Seventh-Day Adventist, Jewish, Pagan/Wicca, etc. should be forced to participate in a "Christmas" gift exchange if they don't want to, I feel I should also be exempt from participating due to my beliefs. 

As an alternative, I might suggest we instead do a non-denominational potluck (not a "holiday party"). Because who doesn't love food?? If the goal is to have employees socialize, I think eating is way more fun than getting a singing Justin Bieber toothbrush. Yep, that was actually someone's gift at the last White Elephant I participated in. The guy who received it was not happy. 

Be open-minded about what's available

Maybe you have traditions for the holidays where you buy certain foods, wear certain clothes, get a new decoration, etc. If those items aren't available, you may feel like that's going to negatively affect your holiday. But your good memories of past holidays aren't about the objects that were there. They were about the people you were with, the actions you took, and the feelings you felt.

So if things don't turn out exactly the way you anticipated, try to let go of those expectations. Try instead to focus on the important things: people, actions, feelings. The objects are just window dressing.

Break stereotypes

I know some adults (and their children) who would never go along with a second-hand Halloween costume, or wear the same costume as the year before if it still fits.  And buying the costume from a thrift store? Forget it, that's for poor people.

This elitist behavior is not just hurtful for socioeconomic reasons. It's hurtful to the planet. It encourages stores and manufacturers to continue to pump out cheaply-made, high-priced costumes that may not even last through a single Halloween. They're usually made of unsustainable fabrics and end up in the garbage. Some people try to donate them, but if they're damaged then the thrift store will probably throw them away as well.

Here's a challenge for you: try to find a way to enjoy Halloween without buying a bunch of individually-wrapped candies. Teach children that this is a tradition that doesn't need to continue due to its lack of eco-friendliness. 

This puppy's upcycling a cloth napkin for his Halloween costume.

As for gift-giving, let's start some new traditions where gifts don't have to be shiny and new. They can be re-gifted, homemade, upcycled, and more. A few years ago my predecessor wrote a gift guide for minimalists that you can use for more ideas. There are some timeless gifts there that are still valid options today.

Also, if the holidays seem to be too stressful and complicated for you, we have an article with some unique tips for having a quiet, simple holiday season.

Lastly, if you haven't checked it out yet, take a look at our post about why Black Friday isn't what it appears to be. My personal favorite thing to do on the day after Thanksgiving is going grocery shopping for the week. The store is always so quiet and I get in and out quicker than any other day of the year!

Manage expectations

If you want things to go smoothly, it's best to talk out your feelings and wishes with everyone that you may have plans with during a holiday. In advance. Don't spring it on them at the last minute, or make a dramatic announcement when you show up for an event. Give everyone a chance to adjust to anything different you want to do. For example, if you don't want to be part of holiday gift exchanges, now is a good time to speak up! 

However, it's also important to recognize that not everyone you encounter will want to go along with whatever changes you have in mind. I've told people that I don't want to exchange gifts on birthdays and holidays, but some of them still want to give me things. Then I asked if they could make charitable donations instead, but some people thought that was too impersonal. 

I'm respecting their wishes and will accept any gifts they give gracefully because it's something they feel like they have to do. It's not my job to convince everyone to be an eco-minimalist, and it's more important to have peace than to argue about my principles. Maybe next year they'll be more open to my way of thinking. However, I won't feel bad if they give me something that I don't need and I secretly give it away to someone who needs/wants it more than I do (a trick I learned here)!

Gratitude

I think one of the easiest ways to not worry about what you can't have/do/spend during the holidays is to be thankful for all the things that can and will happen. I'm so grateful to spend this time with my partner and to be in a relationship with someone who thinks similarly to me so that we can enjoy the time we spend together.

I also feel so lucky and privileged to have the choice to spend (or not spend) money during all the upcoming holidays. I focus on simple treats that feel extravagant, like making my own version of hot apple cider (100% apple juice heated up with a cinnamon stick--so much better than that powdered stuff). I love watching the leaves change and then scooping them up to add to our compost after they've fallen to the ground. And since I'm more of a cool-weather type of person, I've enjoyed switching out to warmer clothes and walking in the nice, crisp air.

Opportunities for gratitude are everywhere, and they're easy to find if you let yourself be open to them.

Nomadic minimalism: Could you live on a sailboat?

A young couple sold everything they own, and with virtually no experience, bought a sailboat and started traveling. This type of nomadic minimalism fascinates me. Could you do it?

I'm talking about the book I just finished, called Bumfuzzle - Just Out Looking for Pirates by Patrick Schulte. Here's what's coming up in this post:

1. The story of Bumfuzzle
2. Aspects of nomadic minimalism
3. Risk factors
4. How nomadic minimalists transform over time
5. Sailboat life

1. The story of Bumfuzzle

"Bumfuzzled" means confused or perplexed. Ali and Pat Schulte named their sailboat Bumfuzzle in reflection of their inexperience as sailors. 

Before circumnavigating the world, they were living in a condo in Chicago. They took a single, short, sailing class (on a lake, with a training boat). After selling everything, they moved onto a used boat in Florida. With barely any practice sails, they set off on their journey.

I should also mention that they rarely cooked--they basically lived off of fast food in Chicago. That's fine when you're staying at a port. But 21 days at sea? That's not going to work. Let's just say there were a lot of repetitive meals and burned food when there were no restaurants around.

Despite all this, they made it through over 4 years of sailing. They didn't sink their boat, get attacked by pirates (that's still a thing!), or die of malnutrition.  

In the end, their journey was successful, but once they were done with the trip, it seemed like they were pretty much done with boat life. However, during their trip, they had all of their possessions on a relatively small boat. So whether by choice or as a side effect, they were minimalists during their nomadic time.

I should also mention that they started this journey before social media was really around, and I liked how it felt like they were just living their lives and not contriving media-worthy situations that they could share on the internet. They frequently mentioned being bored or repetitive tasks as a large part of their day, and I think that's very realistic when you're in the ocean without a view of anything but water.

2. Aspects of nomadic minimalism

Previously in this blog, we've discussed experiential minimalism, and travel, or a nomadic existence, was featured in that post. Nomadic minimalism can be seen as a subset of experiential minimalism, where travel/being nomadic is the experience of focus.

But many people are "accidental minimalists" as a result of their preference for an experience like being a nomad. They don't say "I want to be a minimalist, so I'm going to start traveling," but rather "I want to travel, and I ended up adopting minimalism as a result."

I follow a lot of nomads because I think the idea of it is so cool. I'm always curious what people choose to bring when they travel the world living out of a backpack, or what goes inside a boat, car, or RV when that's your only home.

From watching videos about cities around the world that attract foreigners, it seems there are many rentals out there that come fully furnished. You can literally show up with your clothes and toothbrush and start a new life in a new city. When you want to move elsewhere, you just find another furnished abode in a different city or country. Houses for sale even come fully furnished. There are also many comments about how easy it is to move about these places, due to the abundance of public transportation, or walkability with access to local resources. 

I've heard that in the U.S., selling a home furnished is somewhat frowned upon in real estate contracts and has to be done under the radar, and "fully furnished" rentals in the States usually are missing things, like linens and maybe dishes. They assume you're moving from another place within the country and already have the basics. 

And while it's not always true, it looks like there are many beautiful places to visit that are much, much cheaper to live in than in the United States. So being an international minimalist nomad is not only viable for the long-term, but it can also be very cost-effective.

According to Statista, the average apartment in the U.S. costs $1124 per month. These are some monthly rentals for under $1000 per month in Europe I found on Airbnb.

A few posts ago when I talked about my unpopular minimalist opinions, and I mentioned that I don't believe that people with a low income are forced to be minimalist and that minimalism is not simply a glamorization of poverty. While some people choose to live a nomadic life and are also minimalist, the 2 are not mutually exclusive. When I lived in a bigger city, I encountered a lot of unhoused people, and not by choice. They lived in tents, cars, or RVs, and many of them had WAY more than the essentials. It wasn't uncommon to see items spilling out everywhere out of their vehicle, with it being so full that they had to move things to get in and out, stuff strapped to the roof, and windows obscured from objects piled high.

And this isn't just a symptom of homeless persons, either. I've walked past run-down apartment buildings that had units no more than maybe 1000 square feet and seen tenants holding sales of their possessions. The amount of stuff was staggering and made me wonder how much was still left inside if they considered what they were selling the excess.

In short, I've known and seen many people who were nomads but not necessarily minimalist when it came to how much they owned. But as you probably know, there is more to minimalism than an inventory of materials. It's also a mindset. I think people who choose to live out of a small space, either for financial or experiential reasons, don't automatically qualify as minimalists. I'll explain that a bit more in a bit.

3. Risk factors

There are some obvious risks to living on a boat that made a global crossing, especially back around the early 2000s. While reading the book, I tried to picture how I would feel being the only person (or one of 2 people) around for maybe hundreds of miles. To not see another boat, plane, or any landmass for days at a time. The thought of pirates coming by and being defenseless is terrifying. So is somebody getting really sick, or damage to the boat that can't be fixed in the middle of a large body of water.

Oops!

You can apply these risks to any type of travel that takes you into remote areas of land. Because of course, not all travelers choose only well-developed cities as their destinations of choice. I've seen documentation of people who travel so they can climb mountains, do through-hiking, or visit a place with an extreme climate, just to say they survived it. I think that there may be a connection between experiential minimalism, nomadic minimalism, and being more comfortable with uncertainty. 

There are definitely risks inherent to a nomadic lifestyle that are different from a stationary life. For example, being in an unfamiliar place means that you don't know where things are. If something bad happens, more research is needed to find out how to access resources. There are also different laws and cultural norms to contend with--things that might seem completely harmless in your native country are illegal elsewhere, or grounds for being banned from the country.

I've also heard that there's a tendency toward decision fatigue for many nomads--although this could be more a problem for newly-minted travelers. In a stationary life, we tend to create habits. We buy the same groceries in the same stores, take the same route to work, and try to keep with a routine. It's all part of adulting, right? But if you're in a new place every day, week, or month, then you will have to re-choose all of those habits. The brain will take time to adapt to this newness. I think being a nomad definitely lends to neuroplasticity!

4. How nomadic minimalists transform over time

Some people probably thrive on this lifestyle, which is why they spend years or decades never settling down in one place. There's a YouTuber named Bob Wells who runs the channel Cheap RV Living. He started living in a vehicle because he became homeless and that's the reason he also started his channel. From what I can tell, he lived in a van and recently bought an ambulance to convert into a living space.

These days, it's rumored that he's a millionaire (thanks to YouTube), but he still lives in a vehicle, mostly on public lands. When asked what he would do when he can no longer drive around, he said he will buy an RV and live in an RV park. So it seems like a minimalist lifestyle is his preferred way of living, whether it's nomadic or stationary.

Ali and Pat never mentioned the word "minimalist" in the book that I can remember. But I think they were, whether they realized it or not. They were not really working while they traveled (it was implied they were living off their savings). They focused completely on sailing, relaxing, reading, and exploring each place they visited. It wasn't about the "boat life" either. It was about travel because they didn't hesitate to rent a hotel room to give themselves a break and explore a country more thoroughly. The boat was just a means to an end, and in fact, they didn't seem particularly attached to anything they owned.

I've also researched other long-term nomads. Some end up buying houses but keep their adventure vehicle. Others move from RVs to boats and then maybe have a camper van for land travel. 

However, many people eventually stop being nomads. I guess they decided they had their adventure, and now they're ready to go back to a default way of living. It seems others build a brand around being nomadic, and use that brand to build up money and a business. Then, once they have enough money, they buy a house and shut down or change their brand.

While they're nomads, they are probably cramming a lot of events into their lives. I spoke with one couple who were van lifers for a few years while they were amid their travels. They drove for several hours per day, trying to always find a scenic place to film and take pictures. Then there were hours of editing so they could post on their YouTube channel, plus blog posts and their Instagram account. During all of this, they also did consult and some other stuff to make money. Each night, they would usually have to find someplace covert to sleep, and sometimes get a knock on their van in the middle of the night by police, telling them to move. It sounded exhausting.

After 2-3 years, they bought a house with a shop on the property so they could design and build van conversions. 

I think they fall into the temporary minimalist category as far as possessions. Outside of possessions, I believe they had a minimalist mindset because all of their attention was focused on what mattered most to them--working toward their goal of settling down so they could have a business and start a family. So while their schedule was crowded, the events were very singular in their intent.

However, minimalism is a very complex and personal experience, and I can only look at what's happening from the outside and give my opinion. If I were to be a minimalist nomad, it would look different from how they did it, and probably how you were to do it as well. 

5. Sailboat life

So could you live on a sailboat? Have you done it already? 

I haven't, but growing up, my mom had a friend who lived on one. It was a wooden boat with real brass everywhere, and she didn't travel anywhere, she just stayed in the same spot. Each year there was this competition at the marina where she stayed, and we'd come to help her polish up the brass and all the wood.

A friend's mom also had a sailboat, but it was the newer fiberglass kind. They parked it at their house, which was by the water. She told me B.O.A.T. is an acronym for "Break Out Another Thousand."

From what I understand, sailboats make global travel more accessible, because you can only carry so much fuel with you on any boat. If you have 1000 miles before the next island, then it's good to have the sails to keep you going. Boats that don't have sails (powerboats) tend to have bigger motors. If it's anything like with cars, then the bigger motor would consume fuel faster than a smaller one.

This is an example of a liveaboard powerboat

However, there's more to understand about operating a sailboat than other motorized boats. Ali and Pat mentioned in their book that they had one sail that they never used, and I seem to recall they weren't even sure what it was for. Sailboats also require a level of physical capability as you have to move around the deck, potentially ducking under horizontal poles, and running the sails up and down the vertical poles. There were a few times when the sails got stuck, and Pat had to climb up the pole to fix things (Sorry, I'm definitely not an expert in all the technical terms about boating).

It seems like, on average, sailboats are cheaper than powerboats. This probably again has to do with the size of the motor and the overall length of the boat. 

I would say that just about anybody who knows how to drive a car could get into a powerboat and figure out how to get it moving, while a sailboat needs more training. Stopping a boat, and maneuvering it in tight spaces, is certainly different than a car. A sailboat without a motor would need several people with oars to do this--something that they conveniently never show in movies and TV. The boat is just magically docked without a scratch on it.

Whether sailing or powerboating, traveling across oceans is a 24/7 job. Meaning someone has to be awake at all times, even if you have cruise control. You have to watch out for other vessels, weather changes, and mechanical issues. There usually won't be any place to anchor, so you just have to keep going and sleep in shifts.

Another interesting note from the book--Ali and Pat were usually the youngest people they met who were also "cruisers." They were told they were "moving too quickly" because others had taken 10 years to circle the globe in their boats, while Ali and Pat were done in about 4 years. However, Pat was quick to point out that these critics often took time off from their journeys, leaving their boat somewhere for months at a time while they went home to a house somewhere. They only lived on their boats part-time. Others stopped for a year or more in one port to live in a marina like my mom's friend.

Given all this, I think it takes a specific type of personality to be a circumnavigating sailboat dweller. Not only that but to be sailboat dwellers like Ali and Pat and not the people they spoke to, who still had a house and all their belongings. This distinction is the difference between a minimalist nomad and an experiential minimalist.

I had a lot of fun researching and writing this post. It's fascinating to peek into the lifestyles of people who travel, and their relationship to minimalism. I hope you enjoyed it!