“It is my goal to live with less,” my mentor said. This was not a deep moment set aside to instill profound wisdom or an intentional teaching. Instead, it was a simple offhand comment. Yet, his words created a vision that would both fascinate and frustrate me.
Living with less is not a new concept. Jesus taught his followers to seek treasures in heaven, and Eastern philosophy aims at shedding material attachments. Our modern Western society has made a cottage industry of decluttering, purging, and cleaning. The “living with less” idea seems to be a matter of common sense, which is why it is so frustrating.
I believed we were doing well. Throughout our thirty years of marriage, we thought we lived simply. However, in December 2024, we fully embraced empty nest living and downsized. We quickly realized that perception gaps manifest in various forms. We were astonished by the sheer number of belongings we had accumulated over the years, and we were surprised to see how our possessions had subtly shaped us.
Possessions come with invisible pressure. Possessions exist for a purpose. Tools are used to create and fix. Pictures are designed for display and personal reflection. Golf clubs, fishing poles, and pickleball paddles are all intended for recreation. And yet, our possessions come with the silent pressure to be used. Anyone who has owned a boat knows the “I’ve gotta use it” guilt.
Moreover, possessions come with the pressure to protect them. We all understand the anxiety of losing a cherished family heirloom, whether it’s grandma’s wedding band or your father’s favorite watch. And, of course, there’s the cost of that protection — storage units, insurance, and security systems can be pretty expensive. On average, Americans spend nearly $4,200 each year to safeguard their belongings. It seems that as one’s possessions increase, so do stress levels and feelings of anxiety.
What are your expectations?
A recent study reveals that Gen Z (born between 1997 and 2012) defines successful net worth as having more than $9.5 million in assets. Yet the average net worth for people in their 20s is $113,084, and the median is $7,638. Is it possible that some of the anxiety and depression crisis facing the younger generation is due to unrealistic pressure to accumulate more?
Nevertheless, this is not to say that accumulating possessions or wealth is bad. We need possessions to survive, and accumulating wealth does alleviate many life burdens. The Bible speaks repeatedly about the wisdom of storing up for times of need (Gen 41: 34-36, Prov 6:6-8, Prov 21:20) and accumulating possessions and wealth to bless others through generosity (Eph 4:28, 1 Tim 6:18-19). However, we must remain vigilant. For while a wealth of possessions can do many good things for us, they can also do many things to us. Possessions and our attitude regarding possessions are part of our formation as human beings.
How much do we need?
As we began our downsizing journey, we quickly understood a spiritual surgery was taking place. Our nightly pilgrimage to the donation center became a sacred hour of confession: “How much do we really need?” The curb outside our house cried out like the prophet of Ecclesiastes, “Everyone comes naked from their mother’s womb, and as everyone comes, so they depart. They take nothing from their toil that they can carry in their hands” (Ecc 5:15). Facebook Marketplace provided the answers for many prayers — freedom for us and provision for others.
In the end, I understand why my mentor made it a goal to “live with less.” In the practical realm, downsizing results in less management, maintenance, and financial stress. But in the spiritual sphere, downsizing helps us reset our eyes on the place where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.
