This situation is imposing a sort of de facto minimalism on us all.

And not just because we’ve now had the chance to declutter the junk drawer.

Because we’ve all had a shot in the arm of the clarity, gratitude, and perspective that comes from a crisis.

So, what do we truly miss?

We miss our proper nouns. Grandma and Grandpa. The Public Library.

We miss our verbs. Hosting friends for dinner. Camping.

Where do our ordinary nouns fit in here? Put simply, things aren’t useless, they’re just not nearly as important as the people and activities that we love.

(Besides, the acquisition of things is fraught right now. We’re disinfecting packages. Going to the few stores that remain open is stressful, time-consuming. The hedonic half-life of new stuff is shorter than ever. )

For me, minimalism has always meant being very intentional and very appreciative when it comes my belongings. And in the past few weeks, I’m grateful that my things have equipped me to work, cook, connect, learn, rest, and distract myself at home.

I love my slow cooker and my coffee mugs, my internet modem and my desk chair. I love my books and my television. I love my comfy stretch jeans that give me the illusion that I’m keeping my ish together.

If we let it, this de facto minimalism might just reorient our lives. We can move forward with a deep appreciation for what we already have, and an even deeper appreciation for who we love and what we get to do when we’re together again.