Sure I’m a minimalist…

I was at a seminar with a co-worker and we decided to head to another part of the building. She put her hands in her pocket and I grabbed my bulging camera bag, stuffed tote bag and my 10-pound purse.

“Where’s your stuff?” I asked.

Smiling, she showed me a pouch the size of a business card. Inside was her driver’s license, a credit card and a few dollar bills. She said she’s a minimalist and only carries what she needs.

I visualized all the “stuff” in my purse, and I could make a case that I, too, was a minimalist. Like her, I was carrying only the things I needed.

Well, perhaps I’m taking liberties with the word “minimalism” when describing my purse. There’s about 25 Bics in my purse, but that overkill comes from a hard-learned lesson.

On one of my first interviews for the newspaper, my pen ran out of ink. When I had to ask the person I was interviewing for a pen, I felt like an idiot. I vowed to never be without a working ballpoint again. Hence the reason for two dozen Bics in my purse.  

Hey, a reporter can’t be too careful or ill-prepared.

There’s the travel size packets of Kleenex. With allergies that stick around most of the year, having tissues I can grab in a hurry is a necessity.

Plus I’m clumsy. My Kleenex buddies have helped me mop up spilled drinks, melting ice cream and squished ketchup packets more times than I care to count.

Then there’s the added weight of all the coins jingling around in my purse. I’ve never gotten into the habit of putting coins in my wallet. I simply toss them into my purse after a transaction so there’s always a river of coins in the bottom. In a pinch, I can always rustle up $1.06 in dimes, nickels and pennies for something off the dollar menu at the drive through.

Which brings me to the camera bag. Sure I could use my cell phone to take pictures, but I love old-fashioned photography so I seldom venture out without my trusty Canon.

And no photojournalist’s going out without a notebook to write down people’s names, extra memory cards and at least five pens because, well, you know.

The tote bag is when I’m on a field trip. Inside are blank permission forms, filled-out permission forms, paper, notebooks, a map of the building and, of course, pens, pencils, highlighters and Kleenex. I don’t think of myself as having too much stuff. Instead, I consider myself the Boy Scout in the group – always prepared.   

Watching me shift the bags around on my shoulders, my friend said her desk was also spotless – not a paper or folder on the desktop at the end of the day. I didn’t say anything because my desk looks like a tornado touched down at the top, waltzed across the center and then did a swan dive off the “in” box.

There’s the stack of address labels and stamps because I lose them if they’re not sitting right in front of my face, extra memory cards, a box of Kleenex, two back scratchers, two address books and a typing stand with really important stuff.

All of which is required. None of which could be thrown away. So technically, I meet the standards of simple living.

Minimalism has its fine points but there’s one thing I’ll have that my travel-light friend will always have to borrow from me – a working Bic pen.

 This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.

 

 

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