Introducing the Content at Minimum (CAM) Project

For several years, my interest in low-impact living has been growing. Historical sewing videos led me to learn more about the vast impacts of our modern fashion industry on workers and the planet. Learning about fast fashion began my shift towards more mindful practices. I had always done things to reduce my footprint, such as recycling and saving water. The more I learned, however, the more inadequate those small practices seemed. I wanted to do more to live out my value of sustainability.

I’ve also been interested in decluttering for a long time. My mother took on the 365 Less Things project and decluttered at least one item every day for more than a year starting when I was 13 years old. Now, as a disabled adult with a spouse who works long and variable hours, I struggle to keep my house clean. I’ve known for years that reducing my stuff would give me more space to move and fewer things to care for. Decluttering is difficult, though, and I haven’t made much headway.

One area that I have noticeably decluttered is the closet. My partner, Jace, and I dramatically reduced our clothing after I read Project 333: The Minimalist Fashion Challenge That Proves Less Really Is So Much More by Courtney Carver. A primary reason it worked for us was that the challenge doesn’t require you to donate or otherwise get rid of all of your extra clothing immediately: just box it up and keep it out of sight. Each time we’ve revisited those boxes, we’ve removed and donated more items that separation has proved we don’t really need.

Recently, I began reading The Day the World Stops Shopping by J.B. MacKinnon, which explores what the ecological and economic impact might be if we stopped shopping for pleasure. I haven’t finished the book yet, but something in the first pages struck me. MacKinnon introduces his book by talking about his interactions with the San. The San, also called Bushmen, although they refer to themselves by specific community group, are a hunter-gatherer culture who live in the Kalahari. Importantly for MacKinnon’s message, the San are not completely isolated from the outside world or unaware of other ways of life. MacKinnon specifically spoke to a man who had chosen to return to his village after serving in the South African military and experiencing a more materialistic lifestyle.

Hunting and foraging, supplemented sometimes with grain provided by the government, provides enough daily calories and the hours of work per week aren’t far off from a 9-to-5. The people in the village MacKinnon describes have a small number of possessions: clothes, belts with decorative buckles, a few plastic chairs, jewelry, bows for hunting, sharpened sticks for digging, musical instruments, and necessities like shelter and cooking equipment. MacKinnon writes that this community has what they needed and what they wanted because they had reduced their wants significantly. (MacKinnon does recognize that wealthy outsiders often visit cultures that live with less and make sweeping judgements regarding their contentment, and he cites sociological work on the topic, which I appreciated.)

While putting together some evacuation kits, I’ve thought a lot about the bare minimum my family would need to survive in an emergency. MacKinnon, however, wasn’t talking about people living in a constant state of emergency. The San were living lives they had chosen and were apparently content with. In that frame of mind, I began a list of the minimum I believe I could live with in a situation where I was safe and content. I pictured an international move, where I had to take as little as possible and stay in a tiny apartment with few amenities while I got settled.

I found making the list to be a valuable evaluation of my life and my stuff. I certainly included non-necessities but kept it to the minimum I thought I would need to feel comfortable and content. I realized it could be a good touchstone to use while decluttering, to remind myself what I had established as my personal needs. I also realized it could be helpful when Jace goes to an upcoming military training, as we expect to be in a temporary living situation, possibly a hotel, for several months.

Things changed dramatically when I shared the list with Jace. I read it to him and explained my thought process, intending to add his pick of bare minimum possessions. I pointed out how helpful it might be for hotel living and said that when we move, I’d like us to challenge ourselves to live with less. He suggested that we start now: go through the house, pack everything we consider extra, and keep the boxes in our (unusually large) laundry room. His argument: why go through this at the time of the move and find out how little we can live with when we’re already in that small space? Why not start now, adjust as we realize what works, and be ready when the military finally tells us it’s time to go? 

I was stunned. Then, I was excited. I wasn’t sure he meant it, but he assured me he was fully on board with the idea. Essentially, we’ll be doing Project 333 with all our possessions. I’ve nicknamed it the CAM (Content at Minimum) Project and am planning on resurrecting my blog to document our progress. I look forward to sharing our experience with you and to receiving your own stories of making do with less.