I watched the Netflix show The Minimalists: Less is Now this last week. Minimalism is pretty hot these days which is interesting since the recycling of Amazon cardboard boxes is also trending. Minimalists like Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus of theminimalists.com or Joshua Becker of becomingminimalist.com tout that they have all had the experience of ditching most of their accumulated “stuff” and then reaping that inverse proportion – maybe even more – of happiness, contentment and meaning.

Hmm, sounds familiar, sort of: “Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.” Oh yeah, that was Jesus, one of the original minimalists. Well, okay then.

I actually love this message which is why I continue to watch such Netflix shows about minimalism and purging (the good kind, a la Marie Kondo). On the flip side, I enjoyed an unhealthy fascination with hoarding shows when they first became popular, but mostly for the after pictures that are shown in the last five minutes of the show. I love me a good makeover, especially if it’s just about scaling down the room or the hair or the makeup so you can see the real foundation of what is actually there, which is probably pretty darn good.

Ah, but there’s the mystery. Who are you really underneath it all? And what do you really want your rooms to look like? Along with digging through stacks of newspapers and storage bins, the proponents of minimalism say you have face up to who you are and where you want to be – both figuratively and literally. For some, it may result in selling it all and moving into a motorhome to go find the answer.

Again, Jesus: “If you want to be complete, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow Me.” This is where the heebie-jeebies set in: sell ALL my possessions? THEN I can follow Jesus? Or find zen? Or 42, The Answer to Life, the Universe and Everything?

Well, no. But yes. If what is keeping you from happy is stuff, then logic follows that the stuff needs to go. Of course, physically getting rid of the excess is the “easiest” way to free yourself. But there is also a metaphysical component to freeing yourself. Sometimes it means getting in a car and going on a road-trip with a suitcase full of comfy clothes and hiking shoes to find out what it is that you really miss. (Chances are it’s people.) (But not dusting or looking for your keys.) (And maybe it’s the road.)

I’ve had my own aha-moments with minimalism, first precipitated by so many moves. Pack outdated university textbooks and boxes of old magazines more than once and you soon realize that you need to SCALE IT DOWN – or suffer a hernia. And then there was the time we got ourselves in a bind mortgage-wise and downsized from an acreage to a teeny-tiny bungalow. When we stood the couches on end just to get them into our new house, we pretty quickly realized that a bunch of it had to go. Fast. Before a falling couch wrecked one of our kids.

But those were good lessons because we found out two things: One, we didn’t need a lot of that stuff. And Two, we didn’t even like a lot of that stuff. The binary choice of this couch or that one made it easy to see what we liked because we couldn’t have it all. And sometimes it resulted in deciding we like neither couch and that we needed to save up to buy a new one that suited us better. And the surprise of all surprises, for both Rick and I was that while we still valued a few Things, we found out we really valued Space. Which really is Nothing. Talk about minimalism!

I’m not getting rid of everything, because frankly, it hurts for me to sit cross-legged on the floor all the time. But I keep working at having LESS because LESS is MORE. At least in my books. And in the minimalists’. And Jesus’. So there.