Ever since I got on the minimalist bandwagon, I have stopped buying things. It does not interest me anymore to be heavy, which I learnt as part of my vagabonding. To be lugging too much around saps energy off of me. I do not even own a full time mattress. My room is quite empty, with a few books, some clothes and a few yoga mats. I do a Walden every morning. Walden must be any minimalist’s best friend. I remove the futon mattress out of my room every morning and move it to the futon in the living room. Then the bed room transforms into an empty space where I can “do” yoga. It is finally spring in RainCouver (that does not mean that the rain has gone away!) and every one talks about spring cleaning. While everyone does some cleaning in the spring, I pretty much do it every day. I hardly own anything and it is such a relief to be so light throughout the year. I am lovin’ it!
I was also inspired by the Ramana Maharshi Ashram in Tiruvannamalai. It is the only ashram that I enjoyed going to. I find the main hall there so peaceful. It is just an empty room with the shrine of Ramana Maharshi. I have been copying the style of being in an almost empty room since then. I enjoy it a lot. Every time, I move out a few things from the house, I notice that I breathe better. Things just affect my breathing. Open empty spaces are so beautiful.
Chapter 4
Walden
I had this advantage, at least, in my mode of life, over those
who were obliged to look abroad for amusement, to society and the
theatre, that my life itself was become my amusement and never
ceased to be novel. It was a drama of many scenes and without an
end. If we were always, indeed, getting our living, and regulating
our lives according to the last and best mode we had learned, we
should never be troubled with ennui. Follow your genius closely
enough, and it will not fail to show you a fresh prospect every
hour. Housework was a pleasant pastime. When my floor was dirty, I
rose early, and, setting all my furniture out of doors on the grass,
bed and bedstead making but one budget, dashed water on the floor,
and sprinkled white sand from the pond on it, and then with a broom
scrubbed it clean and white; and by the time the villagers had
broken their fast the morning sun had dried my house sufficiently to
allow me to move in again, and my meditations were almost
uninterrupted. It was pleasant to see my whole household effects out
on the grass, making a little pile like a gypsy’s pack, and my
three-legged table, from which I did not remove the books and pen
and ink, standing amid the pines and hickories. They seemed glad to
get out themselves, and as if unwilling to be brought in. I was
sometimes tempted to stretch an awning over them and take my seat
there. It was worth the while to see the sun shine on these things,
and hear the free wind blow on them; so much more interesting most
familiar objects look out of doors than in the house. A bird sits
on the next bough, life-everlasting grows under the table, and
blackberry vines run round its legs; pine cones, chestnut burs, and
strawberry leaves are strewn about. It looked as if this was the
way these forms came to be transferred to our furniture, to tables,
chairs, and bedsteads — because they once stood in their midst.
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