“Just let go.” A simple phrase that belies it’s complexity. We hear it from others, and ourselves, when getting caught up in an interpersonal drama or when we feel resentful. “You just have to let it go,” is a plea with the intention of solving everything in one fell swoop. “Let it go,” has even become an anthem, introduced by the children’s movie, Frozen. From myriad directions, we are told to let go as if it were a singular action. But it’s a set of actions, whose finale is the unclenched palm.
Within the perspective of minimalism, we want to let go of the items in our homes weighing us down. We want to say goodbye with ease, but we tend to hit an emotional snag. We want the end state; we are ready for that. But letting an item go involves an emotional and logical process that may be unclear. Even I find myself saying it, as encouragement to my clients: It’s time to let go. I know that sentence alone isn’t going to make a convincing case. We need to dig into the real reasons that letting go is difficult.
Letting go is challenging because we’ve convinced ourselves that we need to keep things for what if scenarios or because of what people might think. Letting go might even be tough because we don’t know what that electronics cord belongs to and we’re afraid we will remember after we recycle it (and then kick ourselves for the mistake).
Truly letting go is far from wanting to let something go, or forcing yourself to throw something in the trash. It’s not that easy. If we don’t understand the behind the scenes, we rely on workarounds. An example is giving our stuff away to friends or family members, to keep the object somewhere in the periphery of our lives, so that we don’t have to fully say goodbye.
Instead, dip under what the object represents, underneath the obvious reasons why you want to keep it. It might not be the guilt laid thick by a family member, or wanting to keep something because it cost a lot of money. The deeper layer is that we never got over something with that family member and it haunts us. Or we convinced our partner that spending the money on this object was more important than something else they were vying for. So it’s not just wasted money, it’s hurt pride or a, “I told you so” that may turn into an argument.
Sometimes we need to heal first before we can let go of something. Maybe it’s a deep disappointment in ourselves for not finishing a course, holding onto the materials because we don’t want to admit we failed. Or realize that, in fact, it wasn’t a failure at all and we didn’t really want to become a great cook, we just liked the idea of it. Maybe we’re always chasing the next thing, hoping that it will solve a deeper discomfort with ourselves. Clearly, this goes for our relationships as well. Healing emotional wounds with others typically involves healing wounds within ourselves.
Sometimes this deeper work only gets us 95% of the way there. That’s where creating a process or ritual for letting go comes in. The process may involve writing down the reasons you’ve decided to let go of something. Or it could be a more physical ritual with the Rocky soundtrack playing in the background while grabbing items with conviction and saying good-bye as you ceremoniously throw them in the donation bag. Try a stuff eulogy that includes a conversation with a trusted friend or organizing professional. Mid-ritual, you may realize you need some more time to unlayer. That’s okay too.
Letting go isn’t as simple as it sounds. Give it internal processing time and an external processing ritual. That’s how we get past the hard stuff and what remains is a simple, minimalist lifestyle that truly feels lighter.