8 things minimalists do for fun that most people would never think to try

When most people think of fun, they imagine vacations, shopping sprees, or nights out. Minimalists? Not so much.

For them, enjoyment comes from peeling away what’s unnecessary until what remains feels vivid and real. Their joy takes a quieter, slower, more conscious form.

I used to fill my weekends with endless plans. When I began simplifying my life, I realized I’d been chasing stimulation instead of satisfaction.

That’s when I started noticing how minimalists find pleasure in what others might overlook.

Here are eight things they do for fun and why they might just change how you see enjoyment altogether.

1. Go on a “distraction fast”

Think about how many times a day you reach for your phone without realizing it. For minimalists, turning that habit off, even just for a few hours, is both challenge and adventure.

They call it a “distraction fast.” No phone, no streaming, no background noise. Just silence and presence.

At first, it can feel uncomfortable, almost itchy. You start to notice the quiet, the hum of the refrigerator, the sound of your breath, your own thoughts surfacing like uninvited guests.

But then something shifts. The silence stops feeling empty and starts feeling full; filled with awareness, ideas, and rest.

When I first tried it, I discovered how often I used distraction to avoid boredom. What I didn’t expect was how creative I became once I let the boredom breathe.

2. Redesign a single space with intention

Minimalists love turning their living spaces into reflections of how they want to feel: calm, clear, and inspired.

The fun part isn’t buying new furniture or decorations but rearranging what’s already there with mindfulness.

One of my favorite psychologists, Sally Augustin, puts it perfectly: “Your home is not only an echo of who you are now, but a tool you can use to become what you want to be in the future.”

When I cleared the clutter off my desk and added one small plant, I didn’t just create a prettier workspace. I created a mental cue, a reminder that simplicity fuels focus.

For minimalists, play often means shifting energy rather than accumulating objects.

3. Wander and notice

Minimalists don’t need plane tickets to feel adventure. They find it right where they are.

Sometimes that looks like walking through their neighborhood without a destination, just following curiosity. Other times, it’s taking a drive with no playlist, no podcast, and no rush.

They make a game out of paying attention: how sunlight hits the sidewalk, how leaves shift in the wind, how people move through a market. It’s mindfulness disguised as exploration.

Once, I took a destination-free walk downtown. I ended up at a mural I’d passed a hundred times without really seeing it. It hit me how easily we tune out beauty when we move too fast.

Minimalists treat wonder not as a rare escape but as a daily practice of paying attention to life’s smallest details.

4. Practice “use it up” challenges

Minimalists find strange joy in using things to the last drop.

It might sound silly, but there’s something deeply satisfying about squeezing every bit of toothpaste or cooking with the last few pantry ingredients instead of buying more.

It’s a small rebellion against the culture of consume and replace.

The beauty of these challenges is that they make you resourceful. You stop seeing limitations as problems and start seeing them as creative prompts.

I once did a weeklong pantry challenge with no grocery shopping, only using what I had. I discovered new recipes, reduced waste, and learned that I already had more than enough.

5. Host “no-stuff” gatherings

Minimalists still love connection; they just redefine what togetherness means.

Instead of dinner parties built around fancy plates or elaborate meals, they invite friends for simple, shared experiences. A “no-stuff” gathering might mean a potluck where everyone brings a story, not a dish. Or an evening walk where the focus is conversation, not consumption.

The joy comes from presence, not performance.

I once attended a minimalist friend’s “exchange night.” No gifts, no agenda, just people reading poetry, sharing travel memories, or talking about books that changed them.

It was one of the most fulfilling nights I’ve ever had. Simplicity made space for connection.

6. Create art from limitations

Minimalists love turning limitations into creative experiments. Instead of waiting for perfect conditions, the right tools, or the right time, they create anyway.

They write with what they have. Paint with leftover colors. Cook with scraps.

It reminds me of Albert Einstein’s line: “Out of clutter, find simplicity. From discord, find harmony. In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.”

That idea captures the heart of minimalist play. Creativity doesn’t come from abundance but from clarity. Some of the most original work happens when you say, “This is all I have. Let’s see what’s possible.”

When I apply this mindset, I find that my best writing often appears when I stop chasing perfection and allow things to unfold naturally.

7. Unsubscribe and unfollow day

It might sound like ordinary inbox cleanup, but for minimalists, the process is surprisingly enjoyable.

They’ll spend an hour unsubscribing from marketing emails, unfollowing accounts that drain their attention, or deleting apps that serve no purpose.

The experience feels less like a chore and more like a small act of freedom.

What’s fascinating is how immediately you feel the lightness. Your digital world becomes calmer, your mind quieter. You stop comparing your life to the constant highlight reels of others.

I like to do this once a month. It feels like taking a deep breath for my brain.

When you clear out mental noise, you make room for genuine curiosity again, and that’s where the joy sneaks back in.

8. Schedule “nothing days”

Minimalists see rest as more than a reward for being productive. They view it as the very foundation that allows creativity, focus, and balance to grow.

That’s why they deliberately schedule what they call “nothing days.”

No plans. No goals. Just space to exist and follow the moment.

Sometimes that looks like reading, napping, gardening, or simply staring at the sky. Other times, it’s doing absolutely nothing at all and being okay with that.

The first time I tried this, I felt restless for hours. But then something shifted. My thoughts slowed, and I began to notice how much peace comes from simply being instead of constantly doing.

It reminded me of something I read in Rudá Iandê’s Laughing in the Face of Chaos. He wrote, “When we stop resisting ourselves, we become whole. And in that wholeness, we discover a reservoir of strength, creativity, and resilience we never knew we had.”

That line changed the way I see downtime. It turned rest from an afterthought into a sacred practice of reconnection.

Final thoughts

Most people equate fun with excitement, but minimalists know joy hides in stillness too.

Their kind of fun doesn’t need tickets, gadgets, or crowds. It thrives in silence, curiosity, and creativity, the small moments where life feels uncluttered enough for wonder to return.

You don’t need to become a minimalist to try these ideas. Start small. Turn off your phone for an afternoon. Rearrange a space that feels heavy. Use what you already have.

See how it feels to live with a little less noise and a lot more awareness.

Because the truth is, simplicity has nothing to do with deprivation. It’s the gentle art of uncovering what’s always been there, patiently waiting for you to notice.