In a world saturated with possessions, promotions, and perpetual demands, the concept of 'enough' can feel like a radical act of defiance. Health journalist Jodi Wilson knows this tension intimately, tracing her own decade-long journey from a doorstep piled with promotional packages to a life consciously pared back to its essentials.
The Caravan Catalyst: Stripping Back to Basics
A pivotal moment arrived ten years ago when eight parcels landed at Jodi Wilson's door, each containing an item for her to photograph and promote online. The sheer volume triggered a profound sense of disgust at the excess and obligation. This feeling catalysed a dramatic lifestyle overhaul several years later, when Wilson and her partner sold 80% of their belongings.
The family of six moved into a caravan, embarking on a two-year road trip around the country. This act of subtraction, as Wilson describes it, was about eliminating the superfluous to uncover what truly matters—a state she calls "enoughness." After their nomadic chapter, they settled in rural Lutruwita/Tasmania, buying a house and enrolling their children in school.
The Constant Creep of Clutter
A common question followed their return to a conventional setting: how had they retained the lessons of simplicity? In essence, people were asking how to prevent life from "filling back up again." Wilson argues that choosing simplicity is neurologically challenging, as it conflicts with a primal scarcity mindset that urges us to acquire for fear of lack.
This instinct plays out disastrously in our modern landscape of abundance, leading to overconsumption of goods, food, and digital content. The result is a familiar feeling of exhaustion, with too many mental tabs open and a constant pressure to keep up. "How do we even start living more simply, more sufficiently, when there’s so much to strip away?" Wilson asks.
Applying 'Enoughness' in Everyday Life
Rather than advocating a drastic red-pen approach, Wilson suggests using 'enoughness' as a lens for daily decisions. This can help manage the modern malaise of decision fatigue and guide choices on spending, time, and energy. She acknowledges the powerful, fleeting dopamine hit of buying something new, which offers a predictable comfort in uncertain times.
However, she urges a consideration of the hidden burdens of ownership: the obligations, the work required to pay for it all, and the physical weight of stuff—evident in the "ghastly" donation piles at charity shops each January. Wilson finds a deeper, more joyous vitality in the opposite direction: in mending, using what you have, growing from seed, and borrowing.
She quotes writer and psychologist Andrew Solomon: "The opposite of depression is not happiness, it’s vitality." For Wilson, this vitality is nurtured through simple, normalised practices: repeating outfits, buying pre-loved, using all the food in the fridge, weekly library trips, gardening, and rest.
Now living in a three-bedroom house, Wilson admits the battle against clutter is ongoing, defined by odd socks and her children's 'bowerbird' collections. Yet, she sees this not as failure but as proof of a life being lived. The ultimate goal is not sterile emptiness but the creation of breathing space. "When you subtract what you can, you create breathing space—and we all need more of that," she concludes. Jodi Wilson's new book, 'A Brain That Breathes: Essential habits for an overwhelming world', is out now.
