5 Beliefs I’m Letting Go About Stuff

My husband and I dream of a minimal life. This is the year we are pivoting to simplicity, starting with letting go of many possessions.

It’s been a surprise to see how much stuff clutters the path between us and the life we envision. How do we make space, both in our house and in our lives? We’re answering that question one box of stuff at a time.

As I move through this process, I’ve stumbled across five old beliefs I’ve held about stuff. Releasing them, I’m finding, is the key to letting go of possessions.

Belief #1: I should buy it–or buy two–to save myself a trip later, and I’ll thank myself for my foresight. 

This bit of wisdom probably ensured many a rural family made it through a harsh winter. But I live in the suburbs of a major city with ample shopping opportunities both online and in person, so the stockpiling mentality isn’t a good fit here.

I recently found not one, but three tubes of hot iron cleaning gel–and when was the last time I used that iron? The result of my overbuy was to find the tubes in a box of odds and ends, take a photo, load it onto an online site, and arrange for them to be picked up. All this after they added clutter for many years.

As our vision of a minimal life has crystalized, I’ve learned to buy only what we’re going to use immediately, and buy more only if we run out.

Belief #2: This is a great shirt. I could wear this great shirt every day! I will buy 3-4 of them in different colors, put them on rotation, and this will end once and for all my clothes shopping and my general unease with my clothes closet. 

On the face of it, this belief sounds consistent with a minimal approach to possessions. But after many repetitions of telling myself that This Is The Last Time I’m Buying Clothes Ever, I’ve learned an important truth: I don’t have a static closet because I don’t have a static body or a static life.

I lose and gain weight. I wear out pieces. I change jobs. I age. For me, a far gentler approach is to clear my closet of all but the few clothes I actually wear, then when I truly need one new piece (the important word here is need, not want), I buy it, simultaneously letting go of a piece that doesn’t serve me anymore.

This allows me to keep a small, nimble closet that responds to my actual life as I’m living it.

Belief #3: I love and respect my parents/grandparents, so I must display/dust/organize/repair/store this thing that was a part of their lives and now must be part of mine. 

Love for people can get transferred onto people’s stuff, causing difficulties when we’re paring down.

It has helped me to focus on a single object, such as a stained, ill-fitting tablecloth that once belonged to my grandmother, and ask myself if I would buy it if I saw it in a store. If my answer is yes, then the object had intrinsic value to me. If no, then perhaps the tablecloth is a stand-in for my grandmother herself, and it may be time to deliberately untangle my affection.

I placed the tablecloth in lovely afternoon light and took a good, digital photo. I tagged the photo with notes on what it was, and the excellent lady it belonged to, and then I let it go.

Belief #4: A person I love spent good money for that gift for me, so of course I have to hold onto it after all that effort/expense/love. 

I recently had this belief challenged when I gave my grown children most of the wine glasses my mother had given me. Then I commenced worrying. Will my mother think I didn’t value her beautiful gift?

When she noticed the few glasses sitting on the shelf with clear space all around them, she asked, “Is that how many you have?” “Yes,” I said, but before I could explain, she cheerfully moved on to another topic, unconcerned.

I had spun a story about the glasses, but she was much more mature about them than I was being. I had made it about her that I had too many of them, when it was my own problem to solve all along.

Belief #5: I need loads of books around me to be happy. I can only fulfill my reading and writing aspirations with a huge book collection. 

I used to have so many books. Now I’m down to one small bookshelf, which I’m continuing to pare down. Yet my reading and writing aspirations are as fueled as ever.

It’s true that I require books around me, so I’m a regular at several branches of my city’s fantastic public library. The intellectual stimulation, joy, and peace I gain from time at the library may be even more valuable now that I’m reducing my own books to a precious few.

I will keep the books that are uniquely connected to my life, but the vast majority of my book needs are met in the constantly renewing, enormous collection I share with my fellow citizens at our glorious public library.

Examining these beliefs and acknowledging that they are not serving me anymore has allowed me to move closer to the intentional, minimal life of my dreams. My husband has been working along with me, confronting old beliefs of his own.

It’s a process, and we’re beginning to see the results of our efforts. The volume of stuff may have been a surprise when we first turned our attention to it, but even more of a surprise is the simplicity of releasing things when we let go of the beliefs attached to them.

About the Author: Launa Hall retired early from teaching to travel with her husband, spend time with her two grown children, write, and read more books. Find her at Field Trip Notebook.