Letting go...

Hordes of people squeezing themselves into mega plazas jostling for Boxing Day bargains is a nightmarish phenomenon that sickens my core. It’s not the jostling but the manifestation of the mindless greed and excessive consumption being observed by the masses. My place is in a quiet forest, to ponder its simplicity and avoid contemplating on the devastation that consumerism inflicts on such global environments.

It’s the minimalist movement that has appealed to me as something attainable, as I suspected I was almost there. My resistance to the collection of stuff, backed by my frugal ways, seemed to align itself with the movement. However, I’ve recently had to question my inflated minimalistic stance when we had to put our belongings into storage, filling a 6x6 shed with boxes. A further blow was the fact that I kept shifting my golf clubs closer to the door and made sure I could quickly climb up and grab my surfboard, concerned that they might otherwise get trapped, cold, lonely and sad. Walking away from our home, handing over the keys to the car and the office, and saying goodbye to friends all felt more difficult than it should have been. My attachment to all these things was getting in the way of my letting go, but at the same time there was a great liberation in having less.

Packing for this year long trip with a single backpack, has enforced mandatory minimalism. 17kg of clothes, medicines, towel, toiletries, and little space for the collection of any extra. While lugging 17kg around on my back for hours will potentially be a struggle at times, the load is lighter in the knowledge that this is everything I need. Removing the distraction of superfluous possessions provides space to give more attention to the things that really matter. There is much to gain from having less.