Minimalism is about Arrangement to me, not Subtraction.
The Ghosts of "Just in Case" & the Paradox of Release vs Control
The meaning we assign "just in case" items, is rarely (if ever) really about being prepared. They’re usually ghosts. Little symbols of lacking faith in our ability to improvise (or measure up?) when the future arrives... when the next decision or crossroads lands in the story of our lives.
There's beauty in some things that honor past chapters of course. Some things are honorary souvenirs. A letter from a character that helped shape you. A dress or tie that made you feel like the prize that night… But when these things pile up into clutter, a bunch of memories become a ton of weight. Heavy. It not only takes up space in the back of a “closet”… you can feel the energetic drag in your life. “Things” keep old stories alive. Old roles. Old versions of us we still keep in rotation… Because letting go feels like letting those chapters seal shut, forever. It feels like erasing meaningful parts of ourselves.
The good news is, this feeling is untrue… It’s just fear, & fear is a liar.
Release doesn’t erase memories or meaning of what once was. It clarifies purpose. It helps us exit the purgatory of drowning in unfinished drafts of our own story.
Release terrifies us because "holding on" feels necessary to "keep" important things. But what matters most, is already part of us… It just is. The chapters we’ve lived can’t leave our story, even if they tried.
So it’s freeing to seasonally ask ourselves, how much of what we hold onto, belongs to the chapter we're writing… right here, right now?
My summer travel ritual usually serves this purpose.
This year was a heavy exception… Life needed me to purge clutter instead.
We can get so used to a life we used to imagine we'd live, we forget to notice how heavy those ideas have gotten. How much they’ve expired. How much freer we feel when we dare to indulge in what simply feels good… & to trust it.
Many people talk about minimalism like it's all about subtraction... that makes sense. But not for me. & maybe after you read this, you’ll resonate with my definition for it more too. The way minimalism has been serving me this summer, it feels more precise to describe it like arrangement.
I think about interior design. Syntax. Romantic chemistry… All things ‘space’ serves well. In my experience, space is as active as presence. Think about the space between pieces of furniture, or between paragraphs, or between individuals. It’s as much part of the arrangement as the “objects”.
It comes natural to me to notice & appreciate the role of space. So obvious that I don’t point it out. I just assume everyone honors it. But life has shown me, that’s not true. Many people live in fear of what space means… & I can relate when I purge my closet.
When we honor space in our lives, we stop trying to forecast what’s coming. We start simply being in a live conversation with the current draft of our own story.
If you’re the type who leans more towards struggling to take control, philosophies like “meant for you” are more risky… You risk being too passive. You outsource too much to fate. The pen is not in your hand. You might let it all happen to you & assign it all meaning. Then wonder why you feel powerless. Why you lack influence over what plays out in the story of your life…
If you’re the type who leans more towards struggling to release, it’s the agentic philosophies that are more risky… You risk being faithless. You’re chronically exhausted & suspicious. You try to take too much control over the unknowns, the Why’s & nailing down every last outcome. You may signal confidence or religion with pride, but the way your energy speaks through the way you live, tells on you. You don’t give enough credit to the unseen forces that help shape & write the story of your life. Then you wonder why you struggle to flow. Why you fail to attract with ease.
Per usual, the art of writing our own stories relies on the paradox.
Different individual natures are here to integrate different lessons. Remember to check yourself when you’re attempted to assign superiority to your way of being in control, just like I should avoid in assigning superiority to my way of letting go.
Because the “adrift” risks of my nature are not lost on me. Release without agency can keep you lost… But control without release keeps you captive.
Other people are never the ones making us prisoners.
The lock & key has always been in our own hands.
You are free to write the next line of your own story.
Releasing is not about giving up control… (Every time I’ve let go, I gained more of it. But you have to dare to look crazy first... That’s the price of entry.)
Many are so addicted to trying to control short term optics, they sacrifice the long game… I’m a living testimony of the truth that it doesn’t have to be this way.
I struggle more with giving up old versions of myself, than with releasing people. My closet was proof. Old energies were always free to re-enter because I never closed out old chapters… not truly. Not fully. So while your vantage point might make it look like I let go of others too easily, know: I get it. I know what holding on costs.
But I found out this summer, releasing is about editing.
When you strip the draft down, your next sentence finally has space to arrive.