MINDFUL

TOUR MY MINIMALIST APARTMENT
Joshua Fields Millburn
Step inside my apartment for a moment. Welcome.
I’m glad you could spend a few minutes chez
Millburn. Please pardon the mess. I am just kidding.
Anyhow, walk this way, watch your step, I’ll show
you around.
People are often intrigued by my living space, or
rather by the idea of my living space, wondering
what it looks like, how a minimalist lives, often
posing all sorts of voyeuristic questions: How many
things do you own? What does your living room look
like? Do you sleep on the floor?
But that’s okay I understand the allure. When I first
approached minimalism, lingering trepidatiously
at its pristine white perimeter, I, too, wanted to see
the material changes in people’s lives; I wanted
to peek into their worlds to see whether minimalism
was possible and to see if it was something I
desired. Even then, I knew minimalism wasn’t ideal
for everyone. After all, I didn’t want to be a monk, I
didn’t want to live out of a bag and travel the world,
and I certainly didn’t want to get rid of all my stuff
and sulk in an empty apartment. Could I be happy
as a minimalist?
When Ryan and I first started this website, I counted
my things as a parody, showcasing the fact that I
didn’t have the desire to be as extreme as some
minimalists. In that essay, you can see a picture of
my beautiful loft apartment in downtown Dayton,
Ohio, a capacious living space with hardwood floors
and high ceilings, wide open and airy from brick wall
to brick wall. It was not unlike something you’d see
in a magazine (actually, it was featured in a couple
magazines).
When I left my corporate job; however, I decided
to downsize; I decided to reduce my expenses so
I could afford to live my dream. So I moved into a
small, one-bedroom apartment, not too far from
the picturesque old loft.
At first, I wondered whether I could be as happy
with my new apartment. Although the new place
was clean, and it had wood floors and brick walls, it
didn’t have the same “sexy” allure the loft had. Even
the word “loft” sounds sexy, doesn’t it? Could I be
content with this change? I wasn’t sure.
Fast-forward a year and, truth be told, I enjoy my
new, smaller apartment more than my old loft a
feat I thought impossible a year ago. The elegance
of minimalism transferred seamlessly to my new
dwelling. Plus, my new apartment is brighter during
the day, it’s quieter when I want to write, it is
located in a nicer neighborhood with 19th-Century
brick homes and tree-lined streets and a beautiful
park, and it’s closer to my favorite coffee shop and
restaurants. Oh, and at $500 a month, it’s considerably
less expensive than the loft.
Recently, a Norwegian magazine commissioned
my friend, photographer Adam Dressler, to take a
few photographs of my apartment for their organ.
Below are some of the photos from that shoot
(if you’re curious). Feel free to have a look around.
Entryway
The first thing you’ll notice when you walk inside the
apartment is its small entryway (if the apartment
was larger, you might call it a foyer), containing a
wall-mounted coatrack that holds a jacket, an umbrella,
and a wool hat (courtesy of She Makes Hats).
And just ahead, you’ll find a red chair.
Walk up a flight of stairs (I’m not always perched
on the bottom step laughing), and at the top of the
steps, you’ll see a small table topped with a bowl
containing a few of the personal effects I take along
on my daily walks. There’s also an unplugged red
phone occupying the bottom shelf, a phone that
represents my personal unplugging from the telecom
industry (where I spent 12 years). Above this stand
Joshua Fields Millburn
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