Downsizing

The house I now live in was my mother’s. It is the repository of not only my possessions but my daughter’s, my parents’ and even their parents’: family heirlooms, relics of my marriage, mementos of my daughter’s childhood.

Minimalism is fashionable. Social media is full of images of uncluttered, immaculate homes. But I think it’s desirable in part because we understand that for many of us it is difficult. Of course, it isn’t difficult for everyone. Some people delight in owning less. I envy those people. For me, each object holds a piece of my history. Letting the objects go is not about the object, but the memory.

What exactly am I afraid of losing? I was sitting on the floor of the kitchen sorting through cabinets when I stopped to really think about this question.

There is a brown and white china platter in the cupboard. A large serving platter. It’s probably worth a few hundred dollars, so of course I could sell it on Facebook Marketplace. And there are practical reasons for selling it, just as there are practical reasons for keeping it. But neither of those reasons matter as much as what the platter represents. That platter instantly evokes every Thanksgiving of my childhood. My mom carrying the turkey to the table, familiar voices, laughter, and people whose chairs now sit empty.

Sitting around that table was a group to which I unquestionably belonged.

That platter is a physical link to my history, my parents, my family. For me, each object is a trigger. I pick it up, and the memory is so much more vivid. I instantly remember the people, and the feeling. These physical objects reliably open that door. Giving them away feels like surrendering the key. What will happen to the memories if I no longer have that physical link? To my parents and grandparents? And to my own history?

The question, as I sit here on the floor, feels complicated. It’s so much more than, Can I live with less? If I let go of the things, will the memories still be with me? Or will they disappear, and with it, my history?

Letting go of these things is an act of self trust. Do I trust my ability to carry my own history inside of me?

The final act of downsizing is not the actual letting go of possessions. That only happens after the work is done. The real work is trusting ourselves to be the keepers of our own memories. To know that the people we have loved and the places that have shaped us no longer have to be tied to possessions. They live inside of us. Maybe that is what freedom really is. It’s not about owning less. It’s about finally believing that what matters most can never be packed away or left behind.

—

This post was previously published on medium.com.