When a Friend Asks Me How to Save Money

A while ago, my classmate Tian came to me looking miserable and said, "Luxi, save me! When are you going to write a post about managing money and saving so I can learn something? I looked at my bills and felt like the sky was falling."

Recently I restarted the WeChat Official Account I set up in college and began posting again. Tian often likes and comments on my posts. Setting aside the fact that we were classmates, he counts as one of my regular readers.

I told him, "I'll give it a try."

But as soon as I put my phone down, I was stuck. Did he really think of me as someone who's great at managing money and saving it?

As far as I'm concerned, not at all.

When it comes to saving, I do have some savings, but the amount is hardly an achievement.

When it comes to managing money, I have even less to say. All my money sits in fixed-term bank deposits. I've never bought a single fund or stock.

How could someone like me teach him to manage money and save?

But then we talked some more, and I found things weren't quite what I'd thought.

I asked about Tian's income, and it actually isn't low.

The problem is that he spends almost nothing on food and housing, yet still feels he "hasn't saved anything."

So I asked him, "Do you remember where all your money went?"

He said, "No idea. I don't remember spending any money at all. It's all small stuff, a few dozen yuan here, a few dozen there."

That's when I understood: what Tian needed probably wasn't specific money-management tricks. It was a more scientific, rational way of spending.

I'm embarrassed to say that in the past, I didn't have a clear idea of "rational spending" either.

It's only since I recently started living a minimalist lifestyle that I've gotten a real feel for the question of "how to spend."

Most of what I've learned came from the process of letting things go.

Today I'll share just one point: my home was full of "invisible trash."

What does "invisible trash" tell us?

First, almost all of it is stuff we bought ourselves.

Second, after we bought it, some of it got used once or twice, and some never even came out of the packaging before it was left sitting for ages.

The point isn't how many times it was used. It's that its fate is always the same: forgotten in a corner.

So why does it end up unused?

Most of this "invisible trash" works fine and isn't broken. If it still works, why is it ignored?

It shows that these things aren't irreplaceable.

Having them doesn't make anything better. Not having them makes no difference at all.

That leads to a deeper question: what things do we truly need, the kind nothing else can replace?

There was an experiment abroad: participants packed away all their personal belongings, and then each day they could take out only one item to use.

On the first day, almost everyone took out a piece of clothing.

Over the next few days, what people picked was also tied to the basic needs of clothing, food, shelter, and getting around.

There's nothing exaggerated about this experiment. It's like a mirror that clearly shows you what life can't do without, and what it can do without just fine.

Knowing whether something is irreplaceable, and whether you truly need it, is an important skill.

Only with that kind of judgment can we make rational decisions when we face things to buy, instead of buying on impulse.

So why do we so often spend money without feeling it, or remembering it?

Because spending has become so "shallow" these days.

A few taps on your phone, type a password, press a fingerprint, scan your face, and the money's gone. The process feels like nothing, but the money is truly gone, and what you get back is often something that doesn't matter. Once it's home you forget it. If you can't even remember the thing itself, how would you remember the moment you paid, gone in a flash?

If you want to get your shopping under control and cut back on unnecessary spending, the best way might not be to keep a close eye on your wallet, but to do things that have nothing to do with it: get to know your desire for things, understand your real needs, sort through what you already own, and see your life as it really is.

That's why I think practicing minimalism is exactly the key that helps us understand and rein in our desire for things.

And once you've sorted out the relationship between things and desire, spending less, and spending more sensibly, is just what follows naturally.