Stuff and Consuming

Things carry an energy, and mostly, it’s the energy of the meaning we’ve assigned to them. If you don’t believe me, step inside a dim, cluttered space. That “yuck” feeling you get? Yeah. That.

But things get that way because our “yuck” instincts are voided out by our screaming minds that tell us they’re necessary. We collect pseudo-useful shit because the brilliant minds that craft the advertising-industrial-consumerist-half-human complex need to build a need for things where there is none.

This feeds the fear pit we develop when we’re young, when we (often subconsciously) realize that the way you look – which mostly has to do with what you have, and is therefore a representation of how much money you have, which is how money begins to equal worth – determines your social standing, and your dating pool. (This tends to only be true as kids sort into cliques and social labels, but as we all know, foundations we lay in childhood are what we build our lives on.) Those things – social standing and dating – at a core level, translate to us as inclusiveness, survival and pro-creation. We’re neurologically and physiologically hard-wired to freak out if we don’t have them.

So our desire to consume, and keep in excess, and seek in excess, is associated with this core need. The process of letting that go is learning to see and think with a grown-up mind, one that can process animal instincts in a way that a child brain cannot. This is brutal and gripping and raw and if you think those words are exaggerated you have not yet done it. Your base instincts are being dismantled, and if we know anything about those guys, it’s that they fight to keep themselves known.

But once they’ve been rationalized – talked down, sorted through, leveled out – the rest is pretty easy. Since I left the last box of clothes off at Goodwill, I’ve noticed even the smallest details of my life changing.

I spend significantly less money. I eat better. I sleep better. My relationships are flourishing in ways I never could have conceived of before. My work is easier because my space is usually feels inspiring. I’m more grounded. There’s less to do in the day. I must be routine, and clean, and mindful. There’s no other choice. I have, in some subconscious, physical way (which is always easier than trying to beat your consciousness into submission) let go of so many years of packed up attachments.

-Biana West, 

All Of My Belongings Fit In One Box: My Journey Of Radical Decluttering via thought catalog.com