I believe that confrontation, like constructive criticism, can be good for you, within reasonable limits. One time my Friend Whom I Will Call Raw Sugar said to me, "Maybe you could try to make your actions match your words." I seriously carry those words with me everywhere my heart goes. I like to read about self-improvement, growth, minimalism, and God and from time to time I am confronted with an area in which I could use some improvement.
This week I started reading a new blog called Miss Minimalist and I basically devoured the blog in an afternoon and really enjoyed reading the posts. There is one that I am still thinking through and I've been experienced a bit of confrontation and discomfort (in the form of cognitive dissonance) as I mull it over. The post is about Decluttering Your Fantasy Self. Here's a lil' snippet of the post that keeps rolling around in my head: All too often, we hold on to stuff because it represents who we think we should be, rather than who we are. Sometimes our fantasy selves are meant to impress others; sometimes they’re relics of our past; sometimes they’re fantasies about our future.
Oh, how the concept of authenticity and intentional living eluded me in my early 20's!!
My fantasy self is a freakin' bad ass who has good hair, clear skin, wears classic-but-stylish outfits, has a minimally-yet-stylishly-decorated apartment on the Upper West Side, stays abreast of changes within her career field, regularly entertains and makes hand-made thank you cards, cooks a variety of delicious meals for the husband to whom she regularly submits and (enter sexual reference here, omitted in case my mom reads this). She has a well diversified 401(k) and is already planning how to pay for her kids to go to college, because she is already in her second trimester but has only gained 8 pounds so she just looks cute but not fat. Oh and my fantasy self can eat gluten and dairy and has no problem moderating a reasonable intake of dried fruit and candy bars.
|Frump Girl, |
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
The real me, the authentic me, is Frump Girl. Gluten-Intolerant, takes her jokes too far every.single.time, recently found out she though "gentrified" meant the opposite of what it actually means, constantly has to apologize to her husband for going too far, just ordered burgers for dinner for the fifth time this month, could write in the dust collecting on her never-used wine glasses. The real me really really really loves her job and really wishes she could be as good at it as the excellent people she works with. And the real me is definitely not pregnant.
Minimalism isn't a decorating style or a long list of things you CAN'T own. Minimalism, for me, is about living intentionally and proactively. It's about eliminating all the crap and clutter- physical, emotional, and mental. It's about setting goals and pursuing them instead of waiting for the waves of live to crash over me and wash things away. For me, it's about freedom.
It seems to me that I own a lot of things that I don't use. Things for entertaining, for example. If my Fantasy Self entertains regularly and my "real" self doesn't, that doesn't necessarily mean that I HAVE to get rid of those items. Wouldn't it be more fun and fulfilling to just start entertaining more and actually have friends over, fill my home with company and laughter, and happily serve my guests food displayed nicely?
I think this will be on my mind for awhile. Intentional living... authenticity... simplicity... wine glasses.