Hoarding can be a natural, almost evolutionary response to the possibility that one day, there might be a lack of something essential to your life. Some people do it with food, newspapers, books, or clothes. They all have a reason and however realistic that reason may be, the collection grows, takes up space, and potentially becomes more of a nuisance than a help.
But there’s another type of hoarding that gets looked over a lot, and that’s the hoarding of money. What’s interesting is that food and clothing are almost an evolutionary response to the basic things you would need just to stay alive. However, in our capitalist society, money is what allows you to get the things that keep you alive. With 401k’s and savings accounts, we have essentially adapted to a modern society by nixing our tendencies to hoard life-keeping things, and instead hoard this digital currency (in most cases, but I don’t discount paper money hoarders) that we can’t even see, that allows us to get anything our little hearts desire.
I’m a self-diagnosed money hoarder, and there are a few more symptoms you might see if you think you may be a money hoarder too.
Symptoms of Money Hoarding
Most of my money hoarding comes from just wanting to invest. I want to throw every penny I can, first into my retirement account, and then into my personal investment account. Once I do both these things, then I can think about food and fun things. Part of this really is survival – because if I get in a wreck or have to leave my job, I want to be able to pull from my savings. I can rest easy knowing that if something catastrophic does happen in my life, I have the resources to take care of myself.
But something else I tend to do is look for seasonal/temporary, one-gig jobs to earn a quick 50 bucks. Craigslist is a favorite in every browser.
This sort of thing is 100% no big deal, but before my little pupper died, I didn’t want to leave the house for too long at night, since it was just the two of us and I didn’t want her to get lonely. So I would be constantly searching for these jobs, without actually having the time to take them. It was almost like just the taste of possibility was enough to say I was once step closer to my savings goals.
Extracurricular activities also became subject to discretion, because everything I do outside of work has a potential cost and opportunity cost, but very few activities hold a potential profit.
Drinks with friends one night a week? Sure, as long as it’s some place cheap. Beer or liquor? Well either way I have the same drinking speed, but beer is half as expensive, so that’s a no-brainer. And what do I get out of this? Some social time to keep me happy, and a nice buzz to make my walk home a little shorter. I consider stuff like this necessary for good relationships and so I don’t turn into a friendless hermit when my introverted tendencies take over.
But this same thought process also applies to things like the gym. Exercise is absolutely necessary, but at what cost? Gym memberships near me run around $50 per month at a reasonable gym with working equipment. But going to a gym isn’t the only way to work out – I can run, and do calisthenics and and yoga at home. Why pay for a $50 gym membership if I could do the same at home and keep that $50 to invest?
Once I started thinking about my expenditures in a minimalist fashion, I began to value things like gym memberships more. Although I still like to have spare money, a gym membership is a great, unlimited excuse to go out and do something every single night. Sure, $50 can go a long way if you spend it well on food or similar necessities, but that same $50 could keep me busy every night for a month, and at that point, $1.66 per day, it seems a lot more worth it. Keeping busy keeps my mind off buying things or spending money sitting in a coffee shop for a few hours. Bonus points for staying healthy.
Minimalism and Giving Back
I’ve always wanted to volunteer at an animal shelter. I like volunteering and feeling like I’m helping someone out, but getting to hang out with animals is a huge added bonus. However, for a very long time I was so focused on what I would be able to take away from my volunteer hours. I’m not getting paid anything, and I’m spending my time and gas money getting to this place to help, and for what?
In my mind, there was no upside to this, and even spending two hours volunteering seemed like a lot. I get no monetary compensation which I could invest, and a dinky line on my resume that really only counts if a future boss loves puppies as much as I do (doubtful). I felt any work I did had a price, and if I wasn’t getting properly compensated, shouldn’t I spend my time doing something that would contribute to this money-hoarding obsession of mine?
So, I continued to look for part-time easy jobs and spend a whole lot of time on the couch doing nothing. Hours upon hours, tv on in the background, browsing shitty and shady jobs online.
This is where minimalism started to come in.
As I began spending more time getting rid of things I didn’t need and reorganizing my life, I saw the value in doing nothing, instead of doing anything, and I began to take a few moments to sit and literally, do nothing. No pressure to think about things or problem solve. I would just sit and veg for a few minutes.
I would let my mind wander, and think about that necklace I wanted but I really don’t need, and how to best get rid of even more things. I would think about how much time I waste on mindless things that make me not have to think.
And I wondered, why do I let myself waste so much brain power hanging out at home and watching tv, when I could be out doing something that makes the world better in some way? Better yet, I could play with animals while I did it. So I signed up at the local animal shelter and started volunteering.
Volunteering is SO not the Same as Working
The thing that throws me off when volunteering is that trying super hard is incredibly ingrained in my brain. I’ll get stressed out at work sometimes because doing things quickly and accurately is what will secure my job later on. You don’t get to keep moving up if you have a history of half-assing things.
But volunteers don’t generally get the option to move up. You have one position, and many times you can choose when you stay and leave. You don’t have set hours, and no boss is over your shoulder watching your work. You just volunteer. You don’t have to be the best all the time. You don’t have to be the best at all. It’s really disconcerting when, instead of payment, you get only a feeling of accomplishment and maybe a pat on the back as you exit, and that’s a type of compensation that doesn’t increase over time, but never decreases either. What’s most important is your presence.
Starting a minimalist lifestyle made me start to value my time more, and in new ways. Even if I was not being compensated in any traditional way, I was able to see volunteering as being just as worthwhile as working, personally, because it kept me busy and engaged, while also not forcing me to spend money, and in a larger sense, because I was able to help the animals who really have no one else.
Although money-hoarding is not a habit I can foresee myself ever giving up, I was able to find a way to engage myself mentally and emotionally, without spending. It taught me that even though I may not judge this time spent as valuable, someone else does, and sometimes that’s a little more important than always searching for the next $50 and a line on my resume.