All that’s left of a cycling life

I’m aspiring to be a minimalist. I don’t think it’s the kind of thing you all of a sudden become, like you wake up one day and announce that henceforth you are to be known as a minimalist. Logic would have it that there is a transition period where you begin a decluttering process, thinning out your possessions until you’re left with the ones that really matter to you.

The sentiment had been building for some time – working in retail, and having traveled in poorer countries where overconsumption as a form of recreation isn’t an option were just a couple of contributing factors. The flame to the kerosene soaked rag was when Rachel and I sat down to find something to watch on Netflix on Boxing Day (fittingly, one of the busiest kiwi retail days of the year). A doco called Minimalism had just popped up in the new arrivals, and without any discussion taking place she clicked on it and we started watching it. The moment it finished, we were filling bags to take down to the Opportunity for Animals thrift store, lining up things to sell on Trade Me and collecting the clothing and shoes we really didn’t need but were actually worth something to take to Recycle Boutique.

The documentary mostly follows the story of two guys the same age as me who were friends through school, then ended up in the same corporate career. They had been in pursuit of the American Dream, rising above their difficult childhoods and climbing the corporate ladder, moving to bigger and bigger salaries and buying houses (and as much stuff as they could pack into them) along the way. And fancy cars. And more stuff. Like many, despite having plenty of money coming in, this way of life led to debt and living paycheck to paycheck. A culmination of things led to one of them realising that fueling his pursuit of happiness with consumption (as prescribed by most forms of media since we are old enough to engage with them) was not working out so well, so he took a look at which of his belonginigs actually added value to his life and got rid of the rest – which turned out to be almost everything. His friend noticed how much happier the guy was and wanted in on it, so they became The Minamalists (dot com).

This oversimplification doesn’t really do the documentary justice. It’s about much more than that, and I recommend watching it. It looks at so many aspects of how we live, and how heavily we have come to rely on overconsumption to find happiness, and the effect that is having on us individually and as a society. And how there is a way out of it – declutter your living space and your mental state by getting rid of what you don’t need, and don’t buy stuff unless it really has some way of adding value to your life. Use things and love people, because the reverse just won’t work out, as they put it, and start really living.

Anyway, what’s this piece doing on Chain Slap, a website devoted to cycling culture? Obviously, cycling is a good bedfellow for minimalism, as it fits with the treading lightly in life approach. But when you’re a cyclist, not just a citizen who rides to work on a bike, you end up with a lot of cyclist stuff. And Rach and I are cyclists, which presents a conundrum – how little can you get away with if cycling is your way of life? Because there is some serious gear involved here. I have road riding and mountain biking gear for four seasons of the year, plus boxes of parts that just insidiously accumulated over the years. I have four bikes (which is actually pretty tame, since I work in a bike shop, but then Rachel also owns four bikes and at least as much paraphernalia as me). Do I need these fancy flat pedals I seldom use off-road? However, while the cycling part of my life is taking a bit more work to inventory and cull, it turns out I have far more than I need here too. Kit that I haven’t worn in ages but keep in case I suddenly start riding so much that I won’t be able to launder everything in time (I think that was how one of the arguments went), for example. It turns out “just in case” is a phrase that doesn’t go over too well with minimalists – you just end up needlessly hoarding stuff. And that fixie I haven’t ridden since long before our twin sons were born fifteen months ago? It seems like a nice idea to hold on to it for some idyllic time in the future when I have my old life back (and live somewhere that’s not on the top of a massive hill) and want to experience the purity of riding a fixed gear to get my morning coffee – but really, some hipster deserves to try and enjoy it more than me.

I currently have my riding gear down to one box. The parts bins at work and home have been decimated and what’s left is in the process of being sold or given away. The rest of my life is still a work in progress. And there is the kids’ stuff to think of too –  a big part of this lifestyle shift is for their sake, to encourage a more positive and meaningful set of values than what they will otherwise be bombarded with as they start to venture out in the world. But already, it feels good to be doing it.

Shifting one’s mental effort away from material objects really does bring benefits – I’ve noticed I’m paying attention more to my life as it happens moment to moment, and hopefully less of my life will slip through the cracks as a result. One month on from Boxing Day, and we certainly have much less stuff – but while I’m optimistic that the aspiring minimalist and the lifelong cyclist in me will eventually coexist peacefully, it’s hard to see at this stage of things how I can really live with any fewer than three bikes…