The Difference Between Wants & Needs

A well-used minimum suffices for everything. ― Jules Verne, Around the World in Eighty Days

Recently, I watched a documentary on minimalism. I was, and still am, captivated. The idea that deep satisfaction can be found in having less, but experiencing more. Less possessions, less to carry (both literally & figuratively), less to pay for, and less space needed to store it all. I just can't seem to shake the notion that I am supposed to follow this idea in some way.

I had the mixed blessing in the last couple of years of having to leave behind most of my collected belongings with a move. It was frightening, unnerving and a little bit sad. But it was also an amazing experience. In a very short time (I am talking hours) I had to decide what material items were important to me and there was a definite limit to what I could take. I grabbed the clothes, the important documents, favorite pieces of art, surfboards and boogie boards, tennis rackets, bikes and skateboards. Mostly the absolute necessities and things that would help me spend time outdoors. I think it spoke volumes about what I valued and I am not sure I would change my choices very much if I had to do it again.

There are a few things that I did not take, though, that I have wished that I had. Some photographs, a favorite cooking utensil, a few Christmas ornaments. And, my sea glass collection. Yes, my 50 pounds of sea glass in a big glass jar. Could I want anything more impractical? Want. I don't need it, but I want it and what it means.

Imagine what that 50 pounds represents. The hours spent, slowly, methodically walking beaches, digging through tide pools and sifting through stones. The conversations shared with each of my children as we stared down at the sand and discussed the merits of green and blue versus brown or white. The triumph of spotting a yellow piece and those two precious reds that were pridefully kept at the top of the jar at all times. And, never forget the holy grail of sea glass, the orange piece, which was never found, but will continue to light the imagination with its elusiveness. That jar held memories, the best memories, of what I value most.

So, I continue to be practical and thoughtful of the material things I bring into my simplified life, and I find joy from those things because of their utility or their beauty. I forgive myself, though, in my minimalist quest for still wanting things that appear to be wildly impractical. Things like the perfect set of spring-loaded tongs or a jar of sea glass. There is a fine line between wants and needs. I value the items that serve a purpose the most. But I hope that those things that represent my memories of time spent outdoors always fall into the "need" category.