Minimalism is a simple and intentional way of life, and in my eyes, it offers something most of us are craving: more clarity, more purpose, and less excess.
This lifestyle has taught me to keep what I use and use what I keep. To buy less, use less, and eventually learn to need less. By living this way, I've learned that there are so many things we can do without.
Minimalism has made me more conscious of what I need and what I don't. Targeted ads that tell me that I must consume such items to feel better about myself have become comical to me.
I could go on and on about compulsive consumerism, and 'the stuff' when it comes to minimalist living, but the truth is, I've learned that minimalism is about much more than stuff.
Minimalism has been an opportunity to hear myself and come home to myself.
Once I cleared the clutter from my life and let go of the excess weighing me down, I was left with something I deeply needed: space, time, and reclaimed attention. I gained the room to focus on what mattered most, and in doing so, I discovered a remarkable sense of freedom.
But even with this newfound freedom, one challenge still persisted.
After letting go of the excess, the space that I gained through minimalism drove me to sit alone in an empty room and face myself. That is, to hear the thoughts in my mind that I had been avoiding: self-doubt, shame, regret, worry, and many ruminating thoughts that admittedly instilled fear in me.
Without the distractions and excess around me, I couldn't mask these feelings. I had to face them.
Years ago, I saved the following quotes in a list I keep in my phone: "Everything you've ever wanted is on the other side of fear" by George Addair and "The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek" by Joseph Campbell. But I never took a moment to deeply pause and realize the lessons within them.
Mental clutter can be one of the most challenging areas of excess because it takes a willingness to pause, to listen to, and sit with the challenging thoughts we often suppress. I've learned that working through it teaches us to 'ride the waves' for greater clarity and ease.
It's also not easy. There were so many times I wanted to fill every minute of my day with music, or a podcast in my ear, or a friend's voice over the phone. I was trying to avoid my own thoughts.
Today, I've started to embrace neutral time, which is the practice of intentionally giving our minds space to wander. I occasionally walk outside without AirPods, meditate, and even lie on my couch and look out the window to simply 'notice.'
By also keeping my space clear and becoming more aware of our noisy and distracted world, I have been able to hear myself more clearly and work through unhelpful thoughts. And it has been and still is at times a painful process.
Though, as Carl Jung says, "There is no coming to consciousness without pain."
Through minimalism, we are encouraged to let go of outdated beliefs and old wounds, just as we let go of excess things.
Like physical clutter, where things enter and leave our lives, so do our thoughts when it comes to mental clutter, and they too need to be managed. It's a lifelong process.
Through my experience with minimalism, along with the work of New York Times bestselling author Nir Eyal in his book, Beyond Belief, I have especially learned that beliefs are not facts and can be changed. I've come to realize that we have the power to change our beliefs, and in turn, change how we experience our reality. For example, by switching from saying, "I am not enough" to "I am enough." It's that simple.
By keeping a minimalist home and doing the daily work of managing my inner excess, I have begun to feel meaningful change. I feel lighter, freer, and more grounded.
The outdated beliefs, worries and fears that once shaped my inner world no longer have the same hold over me. I have become more aware of how I speak to myself, more present with others, and more willing to pursue a passion project that once felt far out of reach.
And, most significantly, I've found the courage to simply be myself, to keep coming home to myself in every setting, every single day, and to trust that kind of return is possible for all of us.