The day I decided to live more minimally, I almost instantly felt lighter.
I was listening to a podcast that talked about our relationship with “stuff” and how our culture has become overwhelmed by consumption. And honestly, they weren’t wrong.
In an instant, we can order almost anything we desire. Food arrives at our doorstep in 25 minutes, an Amazon package overnight. Never in human history have we experienced this level of instant gratification, and as a result, many of us have accumulated so much stuff that we don’t even know what to do with it all.
As a Highly Sensitive Person I often felt anxiety around how many things I had in my home, and therefore had to take care of, and it made me question how I was spending my free time. Mostly cleaning and organizing and sorting all these things I owned. But how would life look if I didn’t have all these things to take care of?
So, as I looked around my condo, I decided, right then and there, that it was time to start letting things go.
Of course, the overwhelm immediately kicked in.
“Where do I even start!?”
So I started with one drawer.
Just one kitchen drawer.
I took a breath and began asking myself a simple question:
“Do I actually need this?”
Over the following months, I probably got rid of half of my belongings. And every time I filled a donation box or cleared a shelf, I felt a little lighter.
And an unexpected thing happened: my energy began to change.
It felt as though I could breathe more deeply. My home felt calmer. My mind felt quieter. It was almost as if the physical clutter around me had been creating a kind of mental clutter I hadn’t even realized I was carrying.
Some items were donated. Some went to a consignment shop where they could find a second life with someone else. Others I placed in the common room of my condo building, allowing my old treasures to become someone else’s new discovery.
—
Don’t get me wrong—some of it was incredibly hard to let go of.
There were moments when I sat holding an item and felt a lump rise in my throat. Not because I needed the thing itself, but because of what it represented.
A memory.
A season of my life.
A person I loved.
One of the hardest categories was the things I had from my mother and father. As I sorted through them, I realized I was holding onto dozens of items because they all gave me the same feeling: LOVE.
They reminded me of my parents.
They made me feel connected to them.
And somewhere along the way, I had convinced myself that letting go of the item meant letting go of the feeling…. But then I had a realization.
My mom and dad’s love weren’t stored in those objects. I didn’t need 89 things to remember them.
The love was already within me.
So I gathered all the items that gave me that “love” feeling into one pile and gently asked myself which ones truly meant the most. Which ones immediately brought a smile to my face. Which ones I’d choose if I could only keep a few.
I chose my top five, and something unexpected happened. Instead of feeling like I had less, those few pieces became even more meaningful. They were no longer buried among dozens of other items. They became treasured. Intentional. Special.
What I learned that day is that memories don’t live inside things, things simply remind us of what already lives inside our hearts.
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Two years later, I now live quite simply.
Along the way, I learned about plants and the beautiful energy they bring into a space. I discovered crystals and the grounding comfort they can give. Most importantly, I took time to become present with myself and ask:
“What kind of environment helps me thrive?”
As a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP), the answer became clear.
I benefit from clean, open spaces.
I benefit from having less visual noise.
I benefit from bringing nature indoors through plants.
I benefit from colors that feel calming and grounding.
I benefit from having a place for everything, so my mind isn’t constantly processing unfinished visual information.
Because whether we realize it or not, our environment has a profound impact on our state of being. When every counter is covered, every drawer is overflowing, and every room feels crowded, our nervous system notices. For those of us who are sensitive, it notices even more. Minimal living isn’t about owning as little as possible, it’s about creating enough space that you can actually hear yourself think. It’s about being intentional and surrounding yourself only with what serves, supports, or brings you joy.
If you’re curious about living more simply, here are a few questions to ask yourself:
- Do I use this regularly?
- Does this item add value to my life?
- Am I keeping this out of guilt, obligation, or habit?
- How do I feel when I look at this space?
- What would it feel like to have less?
And I know some of you are probably thinking:
“That’s great for you, Liz, but I have a partner, a spouse, kids, and a busy household. This isn’t realistic for me.”
I understand.
Minimalism doesn’t have to look the same for everyone. In that case, I would suggest two things.
First, teach your family about the difference between things and experiences. Help your children understand that the best memories rarely come from what we buy. They come from time spent together, adventures shared, conversations had around the dinner table, and moments that become stories years later.
Second, create a simple sanctuary space that belongs to you that you can go to if you start feeling overwhelmed or dysregulated.
It doesn’t need to be an entire room.. it can be a space in the corner of your bedroom, a reading nook, a small desk or a corner on your patio.. What matters is that it feels safe.
Explain to the people in your life why this space is important to you. Over time, your brain will begin to recognize it as a place of rest, grounding, and peace. A place where you can sit, read, journal, meditate, breathe, or simply be to get away from it all.
In fact, I create these little sanctuaries everywhere I go—even when I travel. They have become a non-negotiable part of feeling grounded and at home within myself. Because perhaps that’s what uncluttered living is really about.
Not having less, but making room for more of what matters.
More presence.
More peace.
More breathing room.
More connection.
More life.
And sometimes, it all begins with a single drawer.
Love always, Liz
….
For my full guide for HSP’s on how to create a safe sanctuary anywhere, e-mail me 🙂
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