I traveled more than ever this year – 7 countries so far. Each trip, I packed up my life in a designated suitcase or backpack and hauled it around my destination.
Living out of a bag gives you unique insight into how little we really need. Each time I returned home I would look around and think, “I don’t need all this stuff”.
A trip to Colombia in July finally broke me. After 2 weeks traveling around the country with a 40L backpack, often repeating outfits with zero consequence, I knew I had to make changes back home.
This time, I came home, looked around, and got to work.
Every item of clothing came out. Everything. Piled on my bed and couch and floor. The sheer magnitude of it was startling. So much of it had been hidden away in the dark corners of my closets or placed in boxes to giveaway during a previous decluttering push. I imagined them all tucked away in the darkness, waiting for freedom.
Every single item was picked up and examined. Was it in good shape? Did I wear it often, or at all? In the words of Marie Kondo, did it spark joy? As it turns out, most of it did not. There were the clothes that still had tags that I planned to wear “one day”. There were the shoes that had never quite fit but cost so much. The collection of identical puffy coats. Clothes that were misshapen from neglect or that no longer fit.
I made 4 piles: Keep, Donate, Sell, Trash.
As I sorted, I listened to an endless stream of minimalist and life improvement podcasts that buoyed my commitment. It felt ritualistic, sifting through my past, deciding what still deserved a place in my life.
After the clothes, I turned to books. Most of them had been read and realistically never would be again. Then there were the ones I’d been carting from home to home swearing I’d crack them open one day. Why was I holding on to them? 95% of my books were donated. And then went the bookshelf.
Then the items I most dreaded: paperwork. I had a large basket of papers that I’d deemed “important”. At one point I’d organized it into folders that did little to contain it all.
I ordered a shredder and portable scanner online. Once they arrived, I dumped the basket onto my bed. I held up each sheet and examined it. Did I need it? Had I needed it in the last 5 years? I scanned each truly important document, filing them away in the cloud. Shredding them was cathartic. In one loud grinding motion, the clutter disintegrated before me.
Lastly, I tackled the sentimental items. Old greeting cards. Letters from exes. These are the most difficult things to let go of. It feels like throwing away your past. But, the past is already past. The memories are our true souvenirs, not a box of knick knacks. I spent a few moments with each item: thought about that time in my life, and who I was then. The most cherished stuff, the stuff that truly sparked joy, was placed in an envelope. The rest was scanned, or shredded outright.
In the past I’ve gone through the process of deciding to get rid of stuff and packing it away but it remained in my home months and years later.
This time was finally different.
I walked all over the city, dropping off my unwanted belongings, hoping they would bring joy to someone else. Every time I handed over another heavy bag, I felt myself getting lighter.
We do not realize how much our stuff weighs us down until we rid ourselves of it.
But also this: we do not realize how much all this stuff reflects what’s going on inside.
Stuffing things away. Holding on for too long. Fear of letting go.
Physical clutter is simply a manifestation of our minds.
In the end, sure I got rid of a lot of stuff.
But underneath all those piles, I found a lighter, happier version of myself.
Restless Legs 