When Less Begins to Feel Like More

Early last year, I once again felt a strong inner pull to clear my home of things long forgotten. Of course, I’ve done this many times before, and just as often my commitment to minimalism slowly faded in the openness of newly empty rooms. Before long, reclaimed spaces filled back up with clearance deals, Goodwill finds, and lovely gifts. Some items even made their way to the garage.

Last year, though, something felt different. I moved joyfully through each room and closet, filling donation box after donation box. For the first time, I cleared my kitchen of a lifetime of hand-me-downs—things I never actually used. The truly good items were donated to the local Veterans Center, and that felt really good.

Since we’re friends, I want to share something I don’t often talk about. Deep in the underbelly of my home is a room—void of natural light—where rarely used and “can’t quite part with” items live. We affectionately call it the Room of Requirement, and yes, just like Hogwarts. This room is especially difficult to clear. Not only is it stuffed to the gills, but it also warehouses memories, including multi-generational holiday decorations. What makes this clearing different from all the rest is the growing awareness that keeping things is no longer a choice. You see, we are slowly inching toward retirement, and with that comes a very real need to let go—permanently.

Perhaps this clearing is less about preparation and more about trust. Trust that memories live within us, not in bins or boxes. With each item released, there’s a gentle exhale—a soft reminder that what truly mattered was never the thing itself. This season isn’t about loss; it’s about making room. Room for ease, for simplicity, and for a life that feels lighter, more intentional, and quietly aligned with what’s coming next.