My partner isn’t a Minimalist. She has a different view on stuff for now, but she’s learning that this comes with a cost.
We were invited to a birthday celebration one Saturday evening. The best dress came out, and very nice it was too, and all that was needed now were the shoes. Now the place where shoes are kept, is not one if her tidiest places. This rather large cupboard is the place where many things are kept. Many many things, including 3 pairs of black shoes, any one pair of which, will finish off tonights outfit beautifully.
So the search begins, and one shoe is found. The other is somewhat elusive. The search continues but time is running out. Much of the contents of the cupboard are spilling into the hallway, but not one of the other five shoes can be found. A somewhat flustered and stressed head appears around the cupboard door, “I’m sorry, but can you call a taxi, we’re going to be late otherwise?”
The search continues, and as more and more of the contents spread their way into our tiny flat, and the taxi sits outside, patiently waiting. Since another black shoe has still failed to be found, the decision is made on a pair of dark blue shoes, the red really didn’t go. Though they would have matched her somewhat flushed and flustered face. It will be dark in the restaurant, no one will notice they aren’t black.
So we arrive late to the celebrations, one of us still a little bit flustered, a little bit poorer, and a little more apologetic than earlier that evening. The cost of clutter very well accounted for.