If you're reading this, it means you survived Black Friday. That may mean that you didn't end up in the emergency room with a sky high blood sugar after eating six helpings of pie, or it may be evidence of your skillful bob and weave at the electronics counter at Target, snatching that 4K television from the clutches of an innocent 10 year old.
Either way, congrats. You made it.
Black Friday declares itself as the antithesis of minimalism. Joshua Becker of "Becoming Minimalist" says there is nothing you can buy on Black Friday that will make you happier than you already have chosen to be (now I would argue that because I got an amazing deal on a printer, which I needed and made me very happy because my previous printer had died... but I digress). Did the 10 DVDs you bought at $4.99 make you happy in a week? Now you have to search for an organizer to store all those discs!
I used to LOVE Black Friday. Facebook reminds me of that every November in my memories tab. My kids were small, and I bought crap. I bought crap to organize my crap. I nagged my kids about organizing their crap. Sounds like a slice of heaven, right?
One of my friends (forgive me if you're reading this, but hey, names were changed to protect the innocent) texted me a photo of her kitchen cabinets and said help! I need your services! Aaaaand then she went out to Black Friday shop on Thanksgiving, in search, she said, of more Pyrex containers on sale at Kohls. Facepalm. I told her I would be right over with trash bags and shelf liner (but she wasn't home).
Don't misunderstand me about bargain hunting -- I love that, too. Hanging on to my cash to spend it on a great vacation is priority one, so saving money on that printer was a huge success. But ask yourself if consumerism is really the hobby you want to be known for. I also understand that Black Friday family bonding is a good time, especially if you don't watch football. But consider next year skipping the need to acquire and just sit down and play Monopoly or watch Lifetime movies, enjoying each other's company away from the parking lots and grabby Starbucks-toting moms (yep, did that too).
Because I love vintage trailers and dream of downsizing one day to a teeny trailer and wandering the planet, I often ask myself before a purchase, "would this mean enough to me to come with me in Martha (my trailer)? Or would I leave it behind?" If I take more than five seconds to ponder that question, then it doesn't get to come home with me. I would bet you don't see a lot of Airstreams parked at the mall on Black Friday weekend. They are by a stream somewhere resting quietly, happy in their minimalist comfort.
Here's hoping you read this before Cyber Monday, because the UPS guy will be cursing your name by Thursday when he delivers all that crap you bought from Amazon (hello, dear spouse).
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