Downsizing My Life: Less Stuff, More Soul?

The Great Purge Begins (and Why I’m Terrified)

Okay, so, I’ve decided to…downsize. Like, *really* downsize. We’re talking Marie Kondo on steroids, minus the joy-sparking (because, let’s be honest, most of my stuff just sparks anxiety these days). I’m thinking smaller apartment, fewer commitments, basically a whole lotta less *everything*. Why? Good question. Mostly, I think, I’m tired. Tired of the constant pressure to acquire more, do more, *be* more. You know the feeling? The one where you’re drowning in “stuff” and it’s all supposed to make you happy, but it just makes you stressed?

And honestly, it started with my closet. I mean, seriously, I had clothes with the tags still on! Clothes I bought thinking, “Oh, I’ll wear this to that imaginary fancy party I’m totally going to be invited to someday.” Yeah, right. So, I tackled the closet. And then the bookshelf. And then… well, you get the picture. It became a snowball effect. But it’s also terrifying. I mean, what if I regret getting rid of something? What if I *need* that obscure kitchen gadget I bought on a whim three years ago? Who even knows what’s next?

The Emotional Baggage of… Baggage

The funny thing is, getting rid of stuff isn’t just about the physical objects. It’s about the memories attached to them. My grandmother’s old tea set? It’s chipped and stained, but it reminds me of Sunday afternoons with her, sipping lukewarm tea and listening to her stories. Do I really *need* it? Probably not. Can I bring myself to part with it? Ugh, that’s the hard part. It’s like downsizing your life forces you to confront your past, your regrets, your “what ifs.” I wasn’t expecting that.

It’s kind of like pulling a thread on a sweater and suddenly the whole thing starts unraveling. Except the sweater is my life, and the thread is that old concert t-shirt I haven’t worn in 15 years. You know, the one from that band I was *obsessed* with in college. Selling it feels like betraying my younger self. Am I being dramatic? Probably. But hey, that’s me. So I’m trying to be strategic. Keeping the sentimental stuff, donating what I can and selling the rest. Though selling is proving to be more work than it’s worth.

Tiny Apartment, Big Dreams?

The goal, eventually, is a smaller apartment. Maybe even a *really* small apartment. Think tiny home, but in the city. Is that crazy? Maybe. But the thought of a simpler space, one that’s easier to clean and less expensive to maintain, is incredibly appealing. Less to worry about, less to fill, more time to, you know, actually *live*. That’s the dream anyway.

Of course, finding the perfect small space is proving to be a challenge. I’ve been scouring Zillow and Craigslist, and let me tell you, the options are…interesting. I saw one “studio apartment” that was basically a closet with a hotplate. Seriously. I’m starting to think I’m aiming too high. Still, I’m determined. I mean, I *have* to be, right? I’ve already gotten rid of half my furniture!

My Downsizing Fail: The Great Guitar Debacle of 2018

Okay, so, here’s a confession. I tried downsizing once before. Back in 2018, I decided I was going to be a minimalist. Ugh, what a mess! I went on a purging frenzy, getting rid of everything I hadn’t used in the past year. And then… I regretted it. Big time. The worst part? I sold my acoustic guitar. A beautiful, vintage Martin that I had inherited from my grandfather. I convinced myself I wasn’t playing it enough and that someone else would appreciate it more. Massive mistake. I still think about that guitar. I think about the songs I never wrote, the chords I never learned, the memories I let slip away.

Was I the only one confused by this?

I’m *never* getting rid of a musical instrument again. Lesson learned. The hard way. So yeah, this time around, I’m trying to be more mindful. More intentional. Less… impulsive. Wish me luck.

So, What’s the Point? Maybe There Isn’t One.

Honestly, I don’t know if downsizing is the answer to all my problems. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to stick with it. But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to let go of the things that are holding me back, both physically and mentally.

Maybe it’s just a midlife crisis disguised as a decluttering project. Who knows? But it feels right. It feels… freeing. Or at least it *will* feel freeing once I finally get rid of that tea set. If you’re as curious as I was, you might want to dig into Marie Kondo’s methods (but proceed with caution – it can get intense). Or maybe just start with your sock drawer. Every little bit helps, right?