Most of the time we talk about minimalism in the context of buying less stuff. But anyone who has pondered the practice of minimalism knows it extends much further than just the things we consume.
Over the last three weeks, Brad and I did a four country, two parkrun, 17 day trip.
It was wonderful.
And it was too much.
I sit here on the couch having done the bare minimum number of steps between the bed, the bathroom, the kitchen and the couch in order to help my body recover from the worst flu I have had in, probably, more than a decade.
I take this experience as my body saying:
I told you it was too much doing. I told you that you'd need to rest and integrate and work through the stuff that came up as it came up. And now you have to do it all in one big intense physical experience because you didn't listen to me.
To be clear, I don't feel like my body is punishing me; I would have felt this way in the past. Instead I believe it was trying to cope with everything I just put it through.
Very little of it was "bad", though there were small occasions that were pretty awful (like the taxi that had no air con in Malaysia and I was genuinely concerned that I might pass out because it was so hot).
Mostly it was just a lot of new experiences. A lot. A lot. A lot.
Probably too many, if I'm honest and now my body and mind are trying desperately to integrate and process everything they learned.
So now, as I attempt to be gentle with my body I'm back to actively practicing minimalism again.
I'm slouching on the couch for hours and not feeling bad about it.
I'm staring at the trees and not trying to think of do anything with this sensory input.
I'm taking extra daytime naps in bed without even looking at the clock.
Minimalism: I'm not sure we ever get it perfect or right or nailed. I think it's a practice. And when I forget for an hour or a day or a week about how important this philosophy is to my well-being, I come back to it and start the practice again. Like the human being that I am.
