Things. Right now, I’m surrounded by things. There are things everywhere. Things that I didn’t even know I had. Things that I thought I got rid of. Things. Just things.

One of the best things about moving is that you get to see all the stuff you’ve accumulated over the years. And if you’re anything like me, it’s a slap in the face. How can I believe I have nothing when I have so much? Why am I constantly buying shit that’s probably unwanted, and obviously unneeded, when I already have so much? Shame, man. Lots of shame.


The second best thing about moving is that that you get to see all the stuff you’ve accumulated over the years…and you get to get rid of it. De-cluttering is more than a physical act, but an act of sheer self-care and self-preservation. With every item that I say, “trash” to, is like a tiny piece of me that’s coming back home. For most of my life, I’ve lived for and with stuff. Things made me happy, especially if I could get them for a discounted price or even better, for free. What that means is that my “home” is filled with lots of shit that I don’t love. Lots of shit that bring me nothing but, “Yeah, I remember when I bought that. Only spent $7 on it.” There’s really nothing of value that’s been added to my life for possessing these things and so, they’re trash. At last count, 5 or 6 industrial sized garbage bags of trash. I have wondered if I’m going overboard when I find my family looking at me as if I’ve got three heads. “Are you sure you want to throw this away? You could…” And I stop them right there. Because I could do a lot of things. I could hold on to the item, an old picture frame, a pair of jeans that I couldn’t fit 5 years ago, let alone now, or a wool coat that “just needs a new button.” I could absolutely hang on to these things that mean nothing to me and do nothing to enhance my life in any way. Could, but I won’t. Whether I paid $5 or $500 for it, does not matter. It’s all trash now.


I could never be a minimalist.

I have no plans of becoming a minimalist. In fact, I plan to do the exact opposite and become a maximalist. I want to maximize the number of things that I have that I actually love…and then rid myself of it when it no longer serves that purpose. And while I don’t think “maximalism” is an “in” thing or that a person who’s a maximalist can get away without being named a hoarder, I wholeheartedly believe that people can and should live in abundance of what makes them happy and that which adds value to their lives. It may not be things; I don’t think that filling my home up with “things,” even if they make me happy, is the solution to what I’m seeking. It means people, experiences, words, feelings, and a whole gamut of other stuff. The people that enter our home should provide value. The words that are spoken in our home should bring joy. The experiences that we have in our home should be fulfilling. Home is our sanctuary and shelter from the outside world, right?

One of the best things about moving is this: clarity.

1 Comment

  1. June 27, 2016 / 12:21 am

    Before I became a minimalist, I used to say the same thing. And then I moved like 2xs and came to the conclusion that I was a hoarder and that I just had way too much shit. Straight up. So that’s when I looked in minimalism and my first thought was that I could NEVER do that. Then I realized that as a minimalist, you have every right to define what that means to you — even if that means that you maximize exactly what you have. (:

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