“Ask yourself, ‘Is it necessary?’” Marcus Aurelius wrote in the first century. The Stoic philosopher and Roman Emperor championed simplicity and rich inner life. Although the phrase does not appear in his famous Mediations, it is an excellent summation of the core Stoic principles. It became a helpful motto in my life.
Last winter, my partner and I needed to compress our lives from a small, 1000-square-foot house into a smaller yet 300-square-foot sailboat. We were launching a two-year sojourn at sea, sailing the East Coast and the Caribbean. We were searching for an adventure and a simpler, more sustainable way to live.
I expected the process of downsizing to flow with ease. The modern Minimalist practice spawned books of methods sure to fit our situation. We would follow the advice of the experts.
I began with the KonMari method: pick up an item and consider if it gives you joy. The sound advice for many a thing failed me instantly. I picked up a jigsaw. No joy. Instead, it evoked a vivid nightmare - me sawing a spinnaker pole on a rolling sea, the sparks igniting an inferno and sinking the ship. (My imagination dives into dramatic if unchecked.) The rest of my tools inspired a similar dread.
On the other hand, my Austrian coffee grinder sparked joy. The perfect grounds made the perfect cup of coffee. But it was not coming. Its only function could not justify the space and electricity demands. A pattern emerged quickly. The things I needed brought no joy. The things that brought joy, I scarcely needed.
The Four-Box method fared better. Placing an item into one of four boxes: Trash, Give Away, Keep, and Relocate. But the Relocate box overfilled with sentimental things and a pile of books.
We did not have time for the “Packing party,” “The Minimalist Game,” or the “90/90 Rule”. Besides, these methods rely on the item’s utility in the present conditions of life. I needed a way to test the future utility of each item in sailing life.
“Ask yourself, ‘Is it necessary?’”. I picked up an item in KonMari style and asked what purpose it would serve. Can I do without? I imagined disastrous scenarios and breakdowns. I also imagined sandy beaches, quiet evenings, and reefs.
Recalibrating the selector to ruthless utility and maximum need hastened the packing. All the tools came along except the jigsaw. I brought my guitar and fishing gear but left the beloved coffee grinder behind. Mental health and spiritual enrichment qualified as a necessity, too.
After a year on the boat, we are happy with our choices. Mostly. I had to buy a replacement jigsaw, and Alex had to return for more warm clothing. We did not miss the rest. A few things of sentimental value were challenging to let go but leaving them enabled a greater adventure with the space and mind clear of clutter. Well, mostly!
During the first year of sailing, somewhere in Norfolk, I chanced upon a miniature edition of Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations. I asked if it was necessary, then bought it. The stoic wisdom is a great companion for any journey, especially for the trials of the sea.