Tag: possessions

How to Clear the Emotional Clutter That Weighs You Down
“Declutter your mind, your heart, your home. Let go of the heaviness that is weighing you down.” ~Maria Defillo

I remember perusing through a used bookstore in a small New England town as a teenager. A book caught my eye—maybe because its spine was a MacIntosh apple red—and I slid it off the shelf. It was titled Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui by Karen Kingston.

Back at home in my apartment in Boston, I devoured it. That book shifted the trajectory of my life. Fast-forward seventeen years later and living clutter-free is not only my lifestyle, it’s my calling and my passion. It’s what I’ve used as the foundation to find home again, inside myself as much as out.

I think I was eighteen when I was in that bookstore. I had devoted the last ten years of my life—sacrificed my childhood—to become a professional ballet dancer. “Sara the Ballerina” was my whole identity, who people knew me as, and the only way I knew myself. But because of very real burnout and a severely limited support system, I chose to go to college. Promising ballet career over.

A commonplace habit in the ballet world, at least in my corner of it, was to never throw away your pointe shoes. We dancers had an intimate relationship with each and every pair, hand-sewing the ribbons and elastic on ourselves just to our liking, each pair my ally or sometimes foe on the battlefield of competitive, ever-unattainable beauty.

Each pair was connected to a certain production, role, or memorable time of growth. Each shiny satin pair was a ticket to the elite club of Ballerina World. Not to mention each pair was $80-$100+ and always handmade. By the time I quit dancing I had bags of used pointe shoes filling up my entire closet and beyond.

Like a good Virgo, I lived very mindfully regarding clutter and consumption through my twenties, in large part due to that book. By age twenty-six, I wanted to test the waters a bit more dramatically, and I let go of 80% of my belongings (including my pointe shoes) to move onto a thirty-foot sailboat with my partner.

It was around this time that I found myself privately realizing just how deep clearing “clutter” goes. I started to independently use the term “emotional clutter,” only to return to my book and see that Karen Kingston wrote a whole chapter called “Clear Your Emotional Clutter.”

I believe that in an intuitive way, I was yearning to simplify the hell out of my external environment so that I could free up the energy to tend to my inner environment. I knew I had internal baggage; I just couldn’t yet clarify what.

You see, contrary to popular belief, when you are free of physical clutter, it doesn’t become rainbows and unicorns, an idea to which many TV shows and books allude. What happens is that what isn’t working in your life gets amplified. Like the surface of a lake clearing after a hard rainfall, clarity rises to the surface of your consciousness about certain things.

One big thing for me was, to be blunt, that I felt miserable most of the time. Why? There were a few key reasons, but one big one was never grieving the stillbirth of my ballet career. This grief was sabotaging my life. It was emotional clutter that I now knew I needed to process and release. After simplifying my external environment and uncovering clarity, that is when the real work began.

Fast-forward seventeen years, and my life is unrecognizable. I live in a different part of the world. My body is different, healthier. I’ve developed the courage and wisdom to only keep unconditionally loving and supportive people in my life (there’s a chapter in Kingston’s book about how people can be clutter too!). I’m re-wiring my brain and nervous system from C-PTSD.

By framing outdated stuff, symptoms of C-PTSD, and old self-limiting beliefs all simply as “clutter” to process and let go, I was able to face a chaotic life and change it to one anchored in sane living.

Now I know with all my heart that physical clutter is just a gentle starting point. By processing through my belongings mindfully, it tunes me into where I am. Where am I emotionally? What unfinished business do I have? What is weighing me down or holding me back? I now speak of it as mental, emotional, and spiritual clutter. This is how clutter-clearing is way more than getting rid of superfluous items.

Clutter-clearing is an industry in itself now. But from comparing my personal experience with what I observe in the mainstream media, a lot of deeper practical wisdom is not making the cut (yet). If I want to live an intentional, empowered life, I have to regularly process all the mental/emotional input and physical extensions of myself in order to feed my spirit.

If you’re also interested in clearing your emotional clutter, these four tips are a good start.

1. A potent journal prompt is to answer these two questions for each area of your life (career, relationships, health, etc.): What unfinished business do I have? What is weighing me down or holding me back?

2. Clutter-Clear! Choose an area of your home/studio/office to start. Curating through your belongings will tune you into what commitments, identities, or desires have expired for you.

3. Emotional clutter that’s common:
- Grief. Not just from loss of loved ones but also from loss of unfulfilled dreams or past versions of yourself.
- Unhealed Trauma. Choose a trusted technique to process the emotional baggage and stick to it. I recommend eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR), inner child work, and support groups.
- Self-Limiting Beliefs. We’ll subconsciously believe what authority figures told us about ourselves while growing up for our whole lives, unless we consciously choose otherwise when we’re adults.
4. List out the values of the five people you interact with the most. If they don’t complement your values, life will be a much more intense emotional roller coaster ride.

Remember that self-healing and growth aren’t about finding or discovering something new out there. It’s about letting go of all the junk that’s already there to uncover the real you.
September 14, 2023
The Benefits of Minimalism: 7 Reasons to Declutter Your Life

“Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” ~ William Morris

Have you ever noticed that every time you move you need a bigger truck than the last time you moved?

People love to collect things, and we have a tendency to keep collecting things in order to fill the available space in our homes (and sometimes beyond).

I’m a firm believer in the idea that material possessions do not equate to happiness, so I recently started to explore the idea of living a minimalist lifestyle, to see if a less cluttered home would result in a less cluttered mind.

I concentrated on decluttering each element of my life by reducing the amount of material possessions I owned and removing those that were unnecessary. This allowed me to focus on those items I valued most.

I followed the seven steps below to declutter my possessions:

Step 1: Categorized my possessions in order to sort through them one at a time (clothes, shoes, bags, jewelry, cosmetics, electronics, books, etc.)

Step 2: Gathered together everything I own from one category, so I could see the true extent of my possessions.

Step 3: Immediately discarded anything that jumped out at me that I no longer required.

Step 4: Analyzed all remaining items to identify whether I loved them. After careful consideration, I discarded anything I didn’t love or need.

Step 5: This was a step where I pushed myself to be more ruthless. I questioned whether I really truly loved the things in my “keep pile” and removed a few more.

Step 6: Tidied everything I had decided to keep neatly away.

Step 7: Gave everything I wasn’t keeping to friends and charity shops and sent some things for recycling.

The process of removing all material possessions I no longer required from my life taught me a number of lessons:

1. Mindful purchasing

We purchase many items on a whim, with little consideration of need or desire. What a waste of money to buy something you may not even particularly like!

A thorough decluttering session teaches you to be more mindful of a purchase and analyze its importance before spending your hard-earned cash.

When decluttering my clothes, I came across several items that still had the labels attached. I found it really difficult to part with these, as it felt so wasteful given that I had never worn them. This was a great lesson in ensuring that from now on I will only buy items I am sure I will definitely wear.

2. Money saved from unnecessary and frivolous purchases

Restricting purchases to only necessary items has the added benefit of saving cash. My biggest overspend in the past has been on clothes.

Since I have significantly reduced my clothes shopping, I have saved a considerable amount of money. This money has helped to fund my true passion of travel and exploring the world.

3. Time saved by being able to find things more easily

Reducing your possessions allows you to find items more quickly, saving precious time.

No longer will you have to hunt through a stash of necklaces but easily choose one from the small collection you have retained. No fishing around among a mountain of handbags or rooting through hanger after hanger of clothes. The choice is quicker and easier.

4. Space saved from owning less

The fewer possessions you own, the less storage space you need.

Since doing some serious decluttering, I now need half the space I previously did. I am currently looking to move to a smaller apartment, as I now have far too much room for one person and could happily live somewhere much smaller.

5. Happier outlook

Surrounding yourself with items you love and displaying only the items most valuable to you will make you feel happier. You won’t have to search through lots of items that you don’t like. Favorite items won’t get lost at the back of the cupboard or the bottom of the drawer.

Gone are the days of saving your favorite things for a special occasion. Every day is a special occasion now that I am only using the things I love and my life is happier as a result.

6. Quicker and easier to clean and tidy

The fewer possessions you have, the neater your house will be and the easier it will be to keep clean.

Marie Kondo, the decluttering expert, advocates the philosophy that each possession has a place and you should know exactly where to find everything. This is only possible if you reduce the amount of your material items. Now my living space is cleaner and tidier, my mind is less cluttered.

7. More freedom

As you begin to detach from material possessions and place more importance on experiences rather than things, you will sense a feeling of lightness and freedom, which can become addictive.

I love this new sense of freedom I feel from no longer being surrounded by piles of unnecessary items I never use and being less attached to possessions. This allows me to focus instead on people and experiences.

Now it’s your turn. Choose one category to start with and focus on the seven steps. See how it makes you feel. Try to dispose of unwanted possessions responsibly.

July 4, 2016
How to Let Go of the Stuff That Keeps You Emotionally Stuck

“The totality of my possessions reflects the totality of my being. I am what I have … What is mine is myself.” ~Jean Paul Sartre

What kind of relationship do you have with your stuff?

Embracing who we are naturally requires a letting go of who we aren’t, but perhaps want to be. That ties directly to our physical belongings, which can renew and inspire us in the direction we’re headed—or hold us back.

Over the years, I’ve found that the objects with the most powerful grip on us are not necessarily those we use frequently and with ease, but the “aspirational” items that we wished we used more.

The sleek high heels that never come out of the closet, because they’re too impractical to actually wear. The exercise bike that grows rusty in the basement. Or in my case, the high-end digital camera I just sold on eBay.

The Lightness of Letting Go

The camera is three or four years old at this point, but it takes amazing pictures. My partner at the time suggested I buy it before a big vacation to Istanbul, though I didn’t need much convincing.

The idea of capturing the world through a lens and expressing myself creatively excited me. I liked the vision I saw for myself—someone with an eye for detail, with original, hand-crafted art on her walls to boot. This person sounded very clever and interesting.

But what I quickly came to realize is that the actual process of taking photos, let alone editing them, held less appeal.

My traveling companion used the camera on that trip far more than I did—he at least knew what to do with all those dials and buttons, whereas I had skipped reading the manual. It turned out my iPhone and a few Instagram filters were really all I needed to be satisfied. (So basic, I know.)

Still, I held on to the camera for several more years, dutifully lugging it with me on trips and adventures, though it rarely came out of my bag. Even when I did snap pictures, they almost never came off the memory card.

These unused items can take up a lot of space, but it’s the emotional burden, not the physical one, that really weighs us down.

Every time I looked at my camera, I was struck by a pang of guilt. For wasted money, wasted potential.

I’m rational, even ruthlessly unemotional, when it comes to most of my possessions, but this camera had a hold over me. I put off getting rid of it in the hopes that inspiration—or at least some motivation— would strike.

Finally, this winter, I accepted what had already been true for quite a while: I’m not a photographer. And that’s okay.

I sold the camera online and instantly felt better. The guilt was gone, my shelf was empty, and my wallet full. This time around, I plan to spend the money on something closer to my heart—an investment in my writing, some yoga classes or even a meal out with friends.

Taking Stock for Yourself

Here are a few things I considered when I accepted that my dreams of being a photographer, even a decent amateur one, were just that.

Listen to your own stories.

What stories run through your head when you look at an object that you don’t use but can’t seem to part with? How do you plan to use it and is that realistic?

These stories are illuminating because they help us identify our true motivations.

I rarely thought about planning my shots or the subsequent hours required in front of the computer to review my work—the nuts and bolts of photography. And when I did consider these tasks, it was not with much fondness.

Watch out for the dreaded “shoulds.”

As I’ve learned, it can be far too easy to conflate what we should want to do with what genuinely calls to us. Do the objects you cling to support the person you are and the activities you enjoy, or do they speak to some idealized identity in your mind’s eye?

Author Gretchen Rubin writes frequently about what she considers the most important of her “personal commandments”—her commitment to just “Be Gretchen.” This has meant admitting she’ll never have a glamorous wardrobe or enjoy late-night jazz clubs, even if she likes the idea of these things in theory and sees why other people cherish them.

“If something was really fun for me, it would pass this test: I looked forward to it; I found it energizing, not draining; and I didn’t feel guilty about it later,” she suggests in The Happiness Project.

Let your possessions be physical reminders of what’s really fun for you.

Consider substitutes.

It’s possible your desire to hang onto something is telling you more than you think.

I had a similar experience with a bicycle I bought the better part of a decade ago. It was a beautiful Italian road bike from the eighties, and I snatched it up on Craigslist, putting aside the fact that it wasn’t quite the right fit and that I didn’t feel comfortable riding it.

I held onto the bike through several moves across states despite rarely using it, thanks to that familiar tug of guilt and desire.

It was only in the past year that I finally invested in a new bike, one with upright handlebars, fatter tires, and easy-to-change gears. It fits me and I ride it everywhere. This one also has less emotional power over me. It’s functional, a tool I use for getting around—not a symbol for the kind of person I wish to be.

Can you tweak what’s not working?

Think about who else might gain.

When I did finally sell my camera, it helped to convince myself that I was giving someone else the chance to enjoy it at a reduced cost. I hope the buyer finds the joy I’d been seeking, but never actually found.

Could others use the items you’re clutching so hard? Consider letting go a gift to the world—one that will also free you to embrace your true self more fully.

February 23, 2016
Gaining Freedom from Our Obsession with Possessions

“How pointless life could be, what a foolish business of inventing things to love, just so you could dread losing them.” ~Barbara Kingsolver

Approximately one month after graduating from a privileged institution on the East Coast, I was standing knee deep in rainforest on the Big Island of Hawaii cutting weeds with a small kama.

Here I was, with a brand new Master’s degree in Education Policy, genuinely confused as to whether I was cutting the right plant because my entire life before that had been about sitting on the computer doing mind work.

Despite my lack of experience, the humidity, and the mosquitos that just wouldn’t quit, I still remember thinking to myself, “This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

My goal, like so many others who choose to go to graduate school, was to finish my program in a specialized field and get a higher paying job with the prospect of moving up the proverbial ladder.

I needed a higher paying job to pay not only my bills, but also to maintain all my possessions, which I identified with so strongly.

In an increasingly globalized and interconnected world, countless corporations and advertisers work hand in hand to convince us of our inherent need to possess possessions, and they deliver the message that our worth can be counted by the quantity and price tag of our material belongings.

Catchy songs and slogans, promises of happiness in a bottle, and endless portrayals of a “better” life inundate us the minute we turn on the television or step outside our house to work for a paycheck that seems to slip through our fingers as we buy more and more without ever feeling as if we have enough.

Like countless others, I bought into this harmful ideal and spent the summer of 2013 feeling as if I was drowning in debt.

My credit card was maxed out, I had quit my job because I disagreed with the politics, and the only job I could manage to find was part-time and barely paid more than minimum wage.

When I started my graduate program I thought to myself that if this degree didn’t help me find a well-paying job, I was a failure.

Well, I didn’t end up finding a job after graduation, and in August 2014, I decided that if I was going to be jobless I might as well be jobless in a beautiful setting.

With a few thousand dollars in my savings account, a one-way ticket, and a single suitcase, I went to a donation only ten-day Vipassana meditation retreat on the Big Island of Hawaii.

Looking back on my trek across three beautiful islands in Hawaii, (the Big Island, Maui, and Kauai), I realized that my time spent in silent meditation at the beginning was necessary.

It was the first time since I started kindergarten at age five that I didn’t go to school and/or work in pursuit of “the good life” that had been marketed to me for as long as I can remember.

Among people from all over the world and all walks of life, I ate simple vegetarian meals, slept in a borrowed tent, and gave up any possible distractions including all electronics, books, and writing materials.

It was the single hardest challenge I have yet to undertake, and there were moments of such intense misery that I seriously considered asking for my things and returning home before completion.

With absolutely nothing to entertain me, I found myself reading and rereading a pamphlet I didn’t realize I had from the plane, and watching a group of turkeys for over an hour as they did nothing more than go along with their daily lives.

I realized in tears after a profound meditation that I’d maxed out my credit card because I was trying to fill a void in the midst of an emotionally toxic relationship and I was disenchanted with a job that I had once thought of as perfect for me.

I emerged from the retreat with a better sense of who I was and the resolution to live as simply and sustainably as possible.

On the Big Island I volunteered at an aspiring eco-hostel where I slept on an old school bus that had been cleared of its seats and replaced with two twin mattresses and a table.

In Maui I toiled on a permaculture farm high in the mountains and shared a tent and later a small bedroom with my close friend.

Kauai led us to volunteering at a beautiful multi-million dollar home where my friend and I alternated between sleeping on the couch in the main house and a recently renovated toolshed that fit only a small twin-sized bed.

Throughout my time in Hawaii I left behind many of my things, some voluntarily and others involuntarily.

I donated restrictive clothing that no longer seemed to fit my more laid back attitude and two comfortable pillows that I had initially been sure I would take with me wherever I went.

However, it was my reaction to my involuntary losses that made me realize the futility of holding on to material possessions I once considered essential in the concrete jungle: my cell phone and my music playing device.

Before, these losses would have aroused a plethora of negative emotions in me: regret, anger, sadness, frustration, and most certainly the overwhelming desperation to replace them as quickly as possible.

Having very little came with a big benefit, however: I had very little to lose. An even bigger benefit was that I learned to appreciate what I did have.

Sometimes we make ourselves sick with worry over keeping our possessions safe in our care and sick with longing for what we don’t have.

This comes with associating our worth and our happiness with material objects that no matter how much we care for, eventually deteriorate over time or go out of style only to be replaced with a newer version.

And so the cycle continues.

Breaking the dizzying cycle of materialism doesn’t have to include donating all our belongings to a charity, however. There are three simple steps you can take toward gaining freedom from your possessions and breaking the cycle of more, more, more.

1. Cut down on what you already have.

It doesn’t have to be something drastic. Studies have shown that removing clutter from our surroundings leads to a calmer and clearer state of mind.

Start with one room instead of trying to take on the whole house. Are there any clothes you haven’t worn in years? Be honest and really consider if you’ll ever wear it again.

Personal styles come and go, and there’s no shame in donating something that still has a price tag on it, you’ve only worn a few times, or is uncomfortable due to our beautifully changing bodies.

2. Think twice before you buy.

“If I don’t get this I’m going to regret it tomorrow.” “It’s such a good deal I’d be foolish not to buy it!”

Wait a day to buy whatever you think you need, especially if you hadn’t planned on buying it before you saw it.

More often than not, our concentration is pulled in other directions and we don’t even remember the item we just “had” to have the day before. Or, the prospect of going back to the store is simply not worth it.

3. Be grateful for what you have.

This is by far the most important piece of advice I can give to anyone. There was a day when the servers offered candy for the first time during lunch, and I don’t think I ever enjoyed a small hard candy as much in my entire life.

Being without so much of what I took for granted every day during my meditation retreat (including any chairs with backs!) and during much of my travels led me to realize that focusing on the small things I had made me infinitely happier.

Smiling woman image via Shutterstock

April 15, 2015