Embracing the Power of Downsizing: Living Beyond Materialism
In our materialistic society, success is often mistakenly defined by external possessions: the size of your house, the title of your job, the car you drive, and the clothes you wear. Every year, more people fall into financial hardship and bankruptcy because they are caught up in a race to acquire more—an endless cycle that is impossible to win. Young couples, in particular, burden themselves with staggering debt to purchase oversized homes they can’t truly afford. Many end up living in these empty, overextended homes, struggling with debt and eventually losing everything, including their self-esteem. We’ve been conditioned to evaluate both ourselves and others by what we have, not by who we are or how we treat each other.
The Barbequian philosophy, however, offers a powerful antidote: simplification through minimalization. The essence of this approach is realizing that what we own—whether it’s a house, a car, or clothes—has absolutely nothing to do with who we truly are. The hardest part of embracing the Barbequian way is learning to let go of the need to impress others or feed our egos with material possessions. It’s about finding peace and gratitude in what we already have. Many may perceive this attitude as complacent or mediocre, but in truth, it’s a path to deeper fulfillment when fully understood.
The concept of the lowest comfortable lifestyle doesn’t mean living like a hermit or retreating to a commune. It simply means finding the level of lifestyle that brings you comfort without excess. If you are fortunate, this is a conscious choice that can evolve over time. But sometimes, life forces this simplification upon us unexpectedly. Either way, it’s a choice—and an ongoing process of self-reflection and adjustment.
Barbequia itself was born out of this very process. Several years ago, I was living in a beautiful condominium in Salt Lake City, Utah. One day, my wife (at the time) was talking to a friend in Portland, Oregon, and casually mentioned how much we missed the city. A few moments later, we made an impulsive decision to move back to Portland, even though we had never seen the house we’d agreed to rent. A few months later, we found ourselves unloading a moving van in front of a tiny 650-square-foot house. I had been told it was small, but the reality was even more surprising. The moving van itself was larger than the house!
Despite having already downsized by getting rid of many belongings, it quickly became clear that we wouldn’t fit everything into our new home. We rented a storage unit and immediately began the process of sorting through our possessions. What did we truly need? What could we let go of?
The first few weeks in our new home were challenging—culture shock, disbelief, and a lot of work. But as we settled in, we began calling it “our little cottage,” and we started to notice something special about the space. It had a unique personality, a spirit that made it feel just right. We even gave the house a name: Simon. Through this process, I learned an invaluable lesson. As I sorted through my things and let go of the excess, I felt lighter, freer. The more I released, the better I felt. I remembered teachings from the Tao Te Ching and Dr. Wayne Dyer about the virtues of letting go of attachments, but it wasn’t until I lived it that I truly understood how liberating it could be.
The experience of downsizing in such a profound way became the embodiment of the lowest comfortable lifestyle. A smaller space would have been impractical, while a larger one would have been unnecessary. Simon was the perfect size, and it symbolized the essence of Barbequia—living with just enough, but not more than what is truly needed.
The lowest comfortable lifestyle is a conscious choice. It requires us to decide what matters most—creating memories and feeding our souls, or accumulating more stuff to feed our egos. It’s a process that continues throughout life, as we regularly reassess what we truly need and adjust our choices accordingly. There is no definitive answer for everyone, and that’s the beauty of Barbequia. It’s a personal journey, and what works for one person may not work for another.
Does this mean that Barbequia is about living in the smallest house in the least desirable neighborhood? Not at all. For example, my brothers, who have small children, have entirely different priorities to consider—school districts, neighborhood safety, reliable transportation, and so on. Their version of Barbequia is very different from mine. The Gomez family’s Barbequia will also look different, just as every individual’s Barbequia will be unique. The key is not to compare yourself to others or justify your current situation, but to recognize that fulfillment and peace come from the ongoing process of simplification.
All growth involves some discomfort, but that pain is fleeting, while the growth it leads to is lasting. By embracing the process of downsizing—whether it’s the material things we own or the way we live our lives—we make space for what truly matters. In the end, the pursuit of less isn’t a loss, it’s a gain. A gain in clarity, freedom, and joy.