Wednesday turned out to be author night in Kansas City.
I’m not sure how I missed it until Wednesday morning, but I found out Austin Kleon (as he puts it, he’s an author who draws) was speaking at the Middle of the Map Fest. I jetted down to OfficePort and enjoyed hearing him speak. I’ve read two of his books — Steal Like an Artist and Show Your Work — and if you consider yourself a creative type, I highly recommend them.
It was great seeing him talk (and draw) live. By the time I discovered Kleon, it was past the point he had come to Kansas City to speak at TEDx. I’d say this made up for it.
Admittedly, Kleon wasn’t my first pick for the evening. For months I’ve had arrangements to hear The Minimalists speak, and I wasn’t disappointed last night. After listening to Kleon, I bolted north of the river to a nice little event space called Black on Burlington to check these guys out.
The Minimalists are two best friends: Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus. Together with their vagabonding friend Colin Wright, they spoke about their journey to minimalism, how the audience could get there, and what to expect from the journey.
I’ve followed their writing on their blog for awhile now off and on. The message of the minimalist philosophy is appealing. Imagine what your life would look like if you had less things in your life. Would you have more experiences? Better relationships? More personal satisfaction with life? Would your mind be more free with less?
I like to joke that I struggle with what I call sentimental attachment disorder. There are these things from my past that hold great sentimental value to me, but I haven’t let go of them. Their artifacts of the past, mementos of a live already played out, yet I hold onto them. Why?
One of the oft-repeated messages of the night was this: When you go to purchase something, ask yourself: “Will this thing add value to my life?” If the answer is no, then don’t buy it. It’s because we don’t say “no” enough, we get all this crap. What happens when we cut out the stuff? Will we be willing to live with what remains?
I had the pleasure of speaking with all three of the aforementioned men after the show. I was chatting a bit before I got in line and ended up being dead last. They insisted on greeting me with a hug (as they did everyone else) and I obliged. It was … nice. Excellent, really. We talked. I talked. And actually, it seemed as though they listened. They were not simply waiting for their turn to speak. I’m guilty of that. How about you?
Their message was convincing, enough so that I think I’ll try their 21-day challenge. And I’ve already started asking myself the question quite a few times, just today: Will this thing add value to my life?
To close the night, Millburn gave a little thought to take with us. I’ve illustrated it below.