Four or five years ago, I did a Mari Kondo on my habitat, and got rid of 50-ish DVDs, a good number of CDs, twelve shopping bags worth of clothing, two boxes of kitchen stuff, and a number of books I've since forgotten. I think it was more than a hundred. My home did not feel emptier for it, only tidier, and the only thing I regretted handing off was a Desigual sweater that had been hideously expensive and worn maybe twice in the year since I bought it. I never missed a single thing I carried out; even the sweater was more a matter of being sad about the wasted money and how it was beautiful but it wasn't me.
I don't know what I did wrong to get there, but the last couple of weeks has seen youtube replace my normal dish of musicals, political satire and cooking with bullet journaling which turned into weird lifestyle vids which turned into meal prepping and minimalism. All of which is met with I'm not some coconut oil lovin' youtube housewife, I'm not one of those people while obsessive watching their vids for tips anyway.
And the core tenet of minimalism, the entire "useless physical objects demand your attention and divert your focus from life", is one that is undeniably tempting.
The problem, which I'm sure is in fact what minimalism is philosophically out to solve, is that what is left of my clutter (minimalist lingo for useless physical objecrts) is now mainly things that I feel define me as a person, or at least the person I would like to be.
Tellingly, when I did my Mari Kondo, there was one category of things I couldn't get myself to "purge": My video games, almost all which are as unplayed today as they were then. Because I want to be a person who plays video games, okay, and I keep them around for the day when I surely will finish them all. Because here's the second thing: Video games are stories, and I collect stories.
( And now they're piling up and I'm a horrible person )