The Simplicity of Comfort: Living the Lowest Comfortable Lifestyle
In today’s world, the pursuit of success is often defined by material possessions: the size of our homes, the titles on our business cards, the cars we drive, and the clothes we wear. We live in a society that constantly measures our worth based on what we own, not who we are. This materialistic mindset has led to a troubling increase in bankruptcies year after year, as more people try to keep up with a lifestyle they cannot afford. Young couples, for example, take on crushing debt to buy the largest, most luxurious homes they can find. But many end up overwhelmed by their debt, unable to furnish their oversized houses, and eventually losing both their homes and their self-esteem when life throws unexpected challenges their way. We’ve been conditioned to value others—and ourselves—based on our possessions, rather than the quality of our character or how we treat one another.
The reality is, we are caught in a race we can never truly win. Yet, there is another path—a philosophy of simplification through minimalization. The Barbequian way is not about rejecting the material world altogether, but about understanding that what we own has no bearing on who we truly are. The most challenging part of embracing this philosophy is letting go of the need to feed our egos with possessions, and finding comfort and gratitude in the simplicity of what we already have. It’s easy for some to misunderstand this approach, viewing it as complacency or mediocrity. But once you understand the deeper purpose, you realize it’s not about settling—it’s about living with intention.
The lowest comfortable lifestyle is not about adopting an austere, minimalist lifestyle à la Gandhi, or retreating to a commune. It’s about finding the level of comfort that suits you, without the need for excess. This level will look different for everyone, and sometimes we have the privilege of choosing it, while other times, life presents it to us unexpectedly. Either way, it’s a process of continuous reevaluation and choice.
Barbequia itself was born out of this very process. Years ago, I lived in a beautiful condominium in Salt Lake City, Utah. Life seemed to be going well until a conversation with my wife revealed that we both missed Portland, Oregon, where we had lived before. After a brief discussion, we decided to make a big change. A friend in Portland offered us the opportunity to rent her house, even though neither of us had seen it in person. A couple of months later, we found ourselves in the middle of a move, with a moving van pulling up to a tiny, 650-square-foot house. I had expected a small space, but nothing prepared me for how compact it truly was. The moving van itself seemed bigger than the house! I quickly realized we had to downsize even further. We rented a storage unit, sorting through our belongings to determine what was essential and what wasn’t.
The first few weeks were a blur—cultural shock, disbelief, and a lot of hard work. Yet, as we settled in, we began to call our new home “Simon,” a name that grew to symbolize our transition into a new phase of life. Surprisingly, I found that not only did we fit comfortably in the small space, but it also took on a unique spirit. It was as if the house itself had a personality. I realized that getting rid of excess material possessions felt incredibly freeing. I had always been told that letting go of attachments was liberating, but it wasn’t until I went through the process of downsizing that I truly understood the peace it brings.
Simon became the perfect example of what the lowest comfortable lifestyle looks like. Smaller would have been impractical, and larger would have been unnecessary. The process of shedding excess belongings, both material and emotional, helped me understand the essence of Barbequia: it’s about living simply, with intention, and without attachment to the things that don’t bring real value.
Living this way is a choice—a conscious decision to downsize and feed the soul with experiences and memories rather than feeding the ego with possessions. It’s an ongoing process that requires daily choices, adjustments, and reevaluations. There is no right or wrong way to approach it; the beauty of Barbequia is that it is personal to each individual.
Does this mean Barbequia is about living in the smallest house in the least desirable neighborhood? Of course not. People with children, for example, have other considerations such as school districts, neighborhoods, and reliable transportation to account for. My version of Barbequia is different from that of my brothers or the Gomez family, and that’s perfectly fine. The point isn’t about comparing where you are right now with others, but about being true to the process of simplification and finding peace in it. All growth involves a bit of discomfort, but that discomfort is temporary, while the growth and freedom it brings are eternal.
The key to living the lowest comfortable lifestyle is to understand that success doesn’t come from accumulating more—it comes from letting go and embracing less. It’s about living with intention, freeing yourself from the chains of materialism, and creating a life that is richer in meaning and purpose.