Let Go of Your Baggage

I moved to San Francisco a few days ago after having spent the entirety of my adult life in New York. The excitement for the move was offset by the impending packing nightmare that would ensue; one accumulates an obscene amount of stuff after living in one place for 6 years, especially if you’re obsessed with shoes and bags like somebody I know really well. I knew I didn’t want to just pack everything in boxes, throw it in a U-Haul, and call it a day — that would be a total conflict of interest with the “fresh start” I was pursuing by moving.

You can’t always carry everything with you everywhere you go. Baggage is a limited, physical space that takes energy and resources (cough, money) to hold. There are always constraints to what you carry.

If I was going to do the fresh start thing, I decided I may as well go all in: two suitcases, no shipping, figure the rest out when you get there.

The whole process of combing through the trove that piled up after 6 years made me think a lot about baggage, especially how the physical mirrors the emotional kind. Doesn’t emotional baggage work in a similar way? We can only be affected by so much, and worrying about those things clearly takes a toll. Of course, it’s better to be mindful and to not carry the burden of the entire world on your shoulders all the time.

The two suitcases I ended up bringing with me aren’t just filled with my favorite clothes and such but represent three things: who I am, who I want to become, and everything I’ve let go.

Who I am

What are the things that have stuck with me for years that I still wear and love? I had a few timeless pieces that never fail to inspire feelings of slay — of the professional and social ilk. Anything that has consistently brought immaculate joy or usefulness definitely came along with me. These are the pieces that define me, the foundation of my personal style.

Even when faced with the opportunity to completely reinvent myself, some things will never change. My core values, the relationships I cherish, and what matters to me will all stay relatively stable.

Thankfully, I’ve come to a point of self awareness where I know what I really, really love about myself and who I want to continue to be.

These are things worth holding on to.

Who I want to become

Both suitcases were not filled to the brim. It’s hard to justify getting new things that you may potentially love even more than what you already have if you think you have everything you need. My mom described this perfectly, “Give yourself some space. You’ll build up a closet of new things that are better for San Francisco that you’ll like more than your old stuff from New York.”

I’m undergoing a 360 industry and working style flip here — from old school business formal/casual to straight casual. Most of what I wore in New York would never see the light of day here, hence I left it behind. Instead, I decided to make space to explore how my style will change here.

My soon-to-be life in San Francisco looks like a Mad Libs puzzle, lots of blanks yet to be filled. The spaces are for the aspirations and changes that I haven’t anticipated. After all, how am I supposed to pursue new possibilities if I don’t have the space and energy to accept them?

Make space so you can accept the new.

What I’ve let go

I have a bad tendency to keep things just because I think there will be some obscure situation in the distant future that is perfectly suited for this item. Anxiety is what keeps me holding on to these things that I don’t use, things that don’t necessarily bring me joy on the daily. The energy spent is essentially meaningless.

I took a brutal, honest look at the deadweight in my life: grudges that have expired past the point of being wronged, my bad habits, lingering attachments and anxieties with no basis in reality. And it was a lot. And I didn’t want any of it to affect how I was going to live my life after being graced with an opportunity to begin anew.

It took a combination of endlessly watching the “Noodles, don’t noodles” scene from Kung Fu Panda, practicing meditation, among other things to learn how to begin letting these things go. I did this and underwent several trips to Goodwill to donate the physical reminders of pain.

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have taken a major life change for me to address the darker parts of who I am, but the impending move was the kick that I needed.

Recognize that you have baggage (we all do, all the time). And let it go.

So, now what?

Honestly, I wish I took stock of what I was holding onto earlier, not just in preparation for moving. I think my habit of hoarding stuff has been kicked for good and I’m going to be more thoughtful about what I choose to buy. And the second a feeling becomes toxic, to recognize it, process it, and let it go.

Not only did my two suitcases meet the weight limit for checked baggage, I feel more at ease, as prepared as I could ever be for the path ahead.