Why we hold on

Clutter is often treated as a practical problem. But more often, it’s emotional.

We keep things to preserve memories, avoid regret, protect ourselves from uncertainty, or fill an invisible gap. This doesn’t just apply to objects, it extends to beliefs, habits, and even relationships that no longer support us.

Letting go can feel like loss.

But holding on indiscriminately creates another kind of cost: mental clutter.

I’ve noticed this in myself. Clothes I no longer wear. Books I might reread “someday.” Childhood items that feel too meaningful to release. Each object seems harmless on its own, but together they quietly crowd my space and my mind.

Physical clutter often mirrors mental clutter. When our environment is full, it becomes harder to think clearly, decide intentionally, or rest fully.

The question isn’t why do I have this? It’s why am I afraid to let it go?

According to Lao Tzu’s idea of wu wei , “By letting go, it all gets done.”

Letting go doesn’t mean we forget the memories or lose a piece of ourselves. It means understanding what “enough” means to us.

The space between hoarding and minimalism

Minimalism offers an appealing promise: freedom through simplicity. But taken rigidly, it can become another form of pressure: another standard to live up to.

What I’ve been learning instead is to aim for enough.

Not less for the sake of less. Not more for reassurance. Just what supports the life I’m actually living.

This shift from extremes to discernment has helped me approach decluttering as a reflective practice rather than a cleanup project.

Practices that allow balance

Here are Japanese principles I explored that helped me stay mindful of unnecessary clutter.

Wabi-sabi

Accepting imperfections and being content with what we have.

Letting go of the need for everything to be ideal reduces the urge to replace, upgrade, or perfect endlessly. This frees up time and energy for more important things.

Muga

When buying or keeping is driven by image or comparison, clutter grows.

Muga helps me ask whether something serves my values or my ego, allowing me to focus my on things that matter rather than pursuing excess.

Zazen

Stillness clarifies desire.

Regular reflection makes it easier to notice when wanting something is just a response to stress or distraction.

Kanso

Kanso or simplicity isn’t empty space but intentional space.

This principle helps me decide what truly deserves my time and energy, minimizing excess and distractions.

Harahachibu

An Okinawan principle of eating until 80% full manifests itself in the Japanese practice of kobachi, where meals are served in small bowls to prevent overeating.

Learning to stop at “enough,” whether with food, commitments, or possessions, builds trust in sufficiency.

Final thoughts

Letting go doesn’t erase memories or diminish who you’ve been. It creates room for who you’re becoming.

One perspective that shifted things for me came from a friend who finds decluttering easier when she imagines her unused items helping someone else. Reframing release as generosity, not loss, made it feel lighter.

Balance, I’ve learned, isn’t about owning less but about carrying less unnecessarily.

Reader reflection

What are you holding onto right now, not because you need it, but because it feels hard to let go?