A journey into minimalism
How I freed up my mind by getting rid of stuff
Where I was
A few years ago, I was living in this fog of consumption our society has come to view as normal. Not only was I stuck in the vicious cycle of always seeking more — more things, more likes, more friends, more invitations — I came to think something was wrong with me whenever my true self would resurface and hint at me that I didn’t want this.
Somewhere along the way, I grew up, out of my true self. This day-dreaming kid who saw nothing but opportunities to try anything that came to mind, who questioned everything from the colour of the sky to the reason why we have to pay for food — can’t we just grow our own? Society tells us no. It tells us we have to consume. All day, everyday, consume more and more and more. More junk food, more things, more news, more media, more people. It tells us it will make us happy, it tells us we’ll be more successful, if only we buy that one more shiny thing.
That kid got lost somewhere along the way and I found myself in my early twenties, feeling trapped under a mountain of things and stress and worry and fear. Things I was told would make me happier, Stress that those things weren’t doing their job, Worry that there was something wrong with me, Fear that I would never be happy. Trapped.
How it started
I was depressed, and the fear of staying trapped became greater than the fear of change. Unhappiness was omnipresent, and the only way out was against the current.
I felt this overwhelming need of an empty space. A blank canvas, but in 3D. That space would be my bedroom. I started going through every drawer and every box, I emptied the contents of my wardrobe on the bed, I layed everything — every thing — in plain sight, right in front of me. The sheer quantity was numbing, but the potential of what I was doing was motivating. That day, I boxed up a lot of my possessions. The bulk of it would go to a donation warehouse, some of it was going into temporary storage (things I wasn’t sure about went into a box in the basement, to see if I would miss them).
Over the following few months, I got rid of the majority of my stuff, and the feeling of relief was greatly welcomed. Because my space was no longer occupied by piles of things, it gave me more mental space and energy to spend on things I enjoyed, or at the time to discover the things I enjoyed. This was the start— from now on, I would be taking charge of my life.
Where I am and where I am going
I no longer feel obligated to respond to society’s demands. I no longer feel inadequate because I don’t have this or that thing, or because I don’t watch the news 24/7, or try to keep up with social media.
Minimalism gave me tools with which to find out what those important things are, because it had me ask many questions I had never asked myself before. What are my values? What are my beliefs? Do I get value out of that thing? What do I want to invest my time in? What do I want to get up for in the morning? (see Meaningful Mornings). Minimalism also gave me the time to ask those questions, because by getting rid of physical possessions, we also free up the mental space they occupy.
My journey is still very much ongoing. In fact, I don’t believe there is ever an end to that journey. I focus on progress, not on a destination, because intentionality is not a place to get to, it is a way to get to where you need to go.
