By Laura Haley
I am a “just in case” type of person. I always bring an extra of whatever I deem necessary “just in case.” I suffer from chronic overpacking and I am only very ashamed. I envy those who willingly live with just what they need. When I first heard of minimalism, I was drawn to the beauty of its simplicity, yet it was something I found constricting. For many years I have aspired to define myself as a minimalist. Through my life I’ve learned that I just feel physically and emotionally better when I have less stuff on my walls, in my drawers and on my mind. Through the course of my semesters here, I progressively send items from my dorm home to make the moveout process easier, and I feel, quite literally, a wave of relief. I am constantly surprised that I don’t realize how much my material possessions confine me until they are gone.
After a four-month stint in Denmark where I lived out of one suitcase (that’s three pairs of pants, people!!), I felt amazing. As soon as I landed in Scandinavia, I was constantly asked, “that’s all you brought?” Finally, I could label myself as a “light packer.” Don’t get me wrong, packing like this was not an easy feat. I probably spent over a week narrowing down my wardrobe and color scheme. Upon my return home, I opened my closet door and immediately felt my heart rate rise. The realization of the quantity of my belongings hit me. In the book Writing Abroad by Peter Chilson and Joanne Mulcahy they mention, “After living among rural villagers with one set of clothing, your crowded closet at home demands that you reconsider ‘necessity.’” Although I definitely did not live in any rural village, this is exactly what I experienced. I had a grand plan of packing one suitcase for this single spring semester I’m on campus but as soon as I saw my clothes, I was overwhelmed, but also convinced that I don’t wear sweatshirts every day and that I do in fact need three button downs.
About a year ago, Marie Kondo was the craze and although she helped me find uses for all the little boxes I have, she didn’t help me really narrow down my material possessions. I’ve always aspired to own less things and live as simply as possible, but it’s hard. That’s one thing I’ve learned about minimalists, they act like it’s easy. But, they’re right, the process of narrowing down can be daunting, but once that hurdle is cleared it becomes easy. I never felt the confinement I was sure I would, and I never really longed for that extra sweatshirt.
Long story short, packing for this semester didn’t occur as lightly as I would have hoped, but I’m still optimistic. I aim to one day say with full confidence that I am a minimalist, but until then, here are a few things I’m working on that will hopefully help me reach that ideal: 1. If there are clothes in my closet that I haven’t worn in one year they will be donated. 2. Understand that if I don’t use an item and it doesn’t serve a purpose, then I should ask myself why I have it. 3. Know that minimalism looks different for everyone. 4. Minimalism is not and should not be a sacrifice. I think of it more as a cleanse; something that can help me think clearer and feel better. Maybe it will take me weeks, months or years, but I’m hoping I will feel relieved when I can finally master the art of simplicity.