Shop, trade, sell. This was my life. at a very young age, I created a name for myself in the world of business- at 9 years to be exact. You name it, our third grade market had it. Pencils, notebooks, and Tamagotchis galore. I spent my time working on ordering more supplies, checking and double checking prices and profits, and organizing everyone else in the market. I was the commander of a micromarket and I loved it. Shop, trade, sell. I valued this process more than myself. I loved every part of it, but the materials I could obtain, more than anything else. I let it consume me. The drive for more grew stronger and stronger. By middle school, I was shopping online and in stores every weekend and made thousands of dollars in the resale market. By high school, I had over a half a million invested in the stock market from all of my hard work through my schooling years. I thought everything was great, I was making money faster than I could spend it and I had everything I had ever wanted. I was rich and successful.

This obsession with money spread from one part of my life to another. I became the salesperson of the neighborhood, selling my fair share of wrapping paper and boxed cookies. I was making lots of money, so I couldn’t have been doing anything wrong. Any time I wanted something I bought it. I didn’t need to rely on anyone but myself. However, I didn’t notice what I sacrificed for this lifestyle of self-reliance. My friends, family, and the drive for knowledge. These things had all fallen to the wayside as my mind stayed clearly on a materialistic track. I got into fights daily with my father. Mostly over trivial things like messy room and grades. My mother had to spend her time moving my things around, which she noted as a nuisance. My relationships with colleagues were less than skin deep; the procedure was the same. I would hang out with one person a weekend, we would go to the mall, I would buy 5-10 items, and end up reselling 90 percent of them for an upwards profit margin of 50 percent. I couldn’t help but feel a void in my life. The constant arguments and lack of loving relationships could not be masked by all of my possessions for much longer. I began to feel more and more empty. My life was a mess and I didn’t yet realize that my material possessions were at the root of my misery. I thought if I had more of everything I would be happier. So I continued my routine. Buy, trade, sell.

It wasn’t until late into my sophomore year of high school that I came across a YouTube video, a TedX talk as they were called, while I was avoiding the ever-daunting SAT prep. This particular one was about the metamorphosis of a man and his journey to live an intentional and meaningful life. Ryan had everything he could have ever wanted: a house with two living rooms, a six figure income, and all the drinks he could consume. For all intensive purposes, he was as rich and successful as they come, but his waist line was expanding. He worked for his pay but spent all of his time working, and he never used most of what he owned. He didn’t feel rich, he didn’t feel successful, he wasn’t living an intentional and meaningful life. Then, one day his friend, Joshua, who worked at the same company making the same pay, started to seem overly happy. He shouldn’t have been, as he lost his father and his marriage ended both in the previous month. How was he happier than Ryan? Joshua had adopted a new approach to his life called minimalism. This lifestyle stressed the importance of regarding what you have as very valuable and only keeping what serves a useful purpose. He got rid of everything that didn’t serve a purpose and left only what remained. Ryan ended up following Joshua on this path towards less clutter and more meaning, and noticed that all aspects of his life started to look up when he approached it from a different perspective. Ryan moved to a smaller house where he only brought what he needed. He started working out a couple days a week, and he finally got the courage to ask out a coworker that he’d been crushing on since he started working at the same corporate office. His life was finally starting to look up, not because of minimalism, but because of the new perspective it brought him. He discovered that he felt richer with fewer things. He finally saw his life as a success.

I wanted to feel this way. The idea finally clicked in my head. Having a lot of stuff doesn’t make you happy: it’s your relationships and experiences that give you this. All my life I had thought that what I had was what made me happy, so how could I just drop everything I had worked so hard to obtain? It wasn’t that I was opposed to this new lifestyle, but getting rid of everything I didn’t use daily or that didn’t add meaning to my life was something that would take time. It turned out to be harder than anticipated. After months of sorting, contemplating, and making piles, I had filled the entire living room of my house with the possessions that were not making me happy or had a specific use. It took two trips in a minivan to the Goodwill to get rid of it all. Then I had space for all that was left, all that remained. I had so much less. Less clothes, less toys, and less books. But after a few days I started to realize I had more. More time, more relationships, and a more full life. I had started on a trek to find an intentional and meaningful life.

I realized the point of all of my worry was the constant need to consume. I had been filling the void in my life by buying more and more. Just because I had money does not mean I needed to spend it, and if I do it should be on experiences and adventures. Now I know that more money does not have to mean more things and in fact, the more things you own, they eventually develop a relatively less value.

I proceeded to spend the duration of my high school years decluttering every aspect of my life. I noticed that it was easier to have friends over when my room was clean and there were lots of places to sit. I noticed that I could hold meaningful conversations with my parents without them bringing up issues with my grades or organizational patterns. I noticed that I felt richer, even though I had less.

I had become a different person, a happier person, and enjoyed my life more. I didn’t waste time buying things I didn’t need, or spending hours sifting through piles of clothes to find something to wear. I should have done this all along because the most valuable thing I gave up was time. I spent so much time deciding what to buy and for the lowest price all so I could resell it instead of trying to develop relationships with my neighbors and peers. My whole world shifted, instead of focusing on myself and what I could gain I can now focus on the betterment of the world and those around me. I now spend my time as it should be: with friends, family, and those who need my help. I had the richest life I’d ever known while having the least. My life with less stuff was filled to the brim.