Am I A Minimalist?

As I sit in my living room, surveying the piles of puzzle pieces and blocks and toy cars, I can't help but think that this doesn't look anything like the minimalism I've read about online.  You know, the people who have clear dining room tables, a select few items on the bookshelf, and one pair of shoes by the door?  That's not us.

And yet, I read every article I can find on the subject, get rid of more and more of my possessions, and feel that twinge of elation when I discover I've cleared enough out that I have half of a shelf free to use for whatever I want!  Am I a minimalist?  By the definition, no.  But perhaps I could call myself of the minimalist mind.

I look at the piles of toys my children have, and wonder who we could bless with some of our things.  I pull out clothes that I haven't worn for ages, and add them to the donate pile.  I plan our menu based off of items in the pantry so we won't have shelves overflowing with food.  And we still have far too much.  I look at pictures of families in third world countries, who share one room and have maybe their basic needs covered.  I look at those closer to home, who live in tiny houses, and wonder what it would be like.  Compared to these, I certainly am not a minimalist.

And yet.  I want less.  I want less clutter.  I want more imagination.  I want less to pick up.  I want more to experience.  I am not a minimalist.  Not yet.  But I'm taking steps.