What Are You Still Holding On To? And, Why?

Marie Kondo wrote a book about getting rid of old junk, organizing, and — more importantly — only keeping the things that we really like having. I didn’t read it. But I did listen to it on Audible while driving around. At first, I thought it was silly — a book about cleaning. But then I realized that 14 million copies sold makes it kind of a thing. (Side note: Do audiobook purchases count as a “copy”?) Regardless, it was a smash hit. And I get why.

Eventually, like all things profit, it went too far. Marie Kondo folding clothes on YouTube? Please. But millions of people watched that too. The world couldn’t get enough of her. She just seems to have her $#_t together, so I like her too. She’s one of those people who made it big just by pointing out the obvious.   

I admit I am jealous of her

Because her book, “Tidying Up” isn’t about cleaning. It’s about letting go.

It’s about simplifying. About clearing space — physically, emotionally, mentally — so that what really matters can breathe. I am thinking that maybe the internal fire burns brighter and hotter when there’s more oxygen in the room.

Divorce. OUI. Job change. A house too big for just two people. It all adds up to something simpler — smaller space, more time with my son. So…some things gotta go.  And man… that part has surprised me. Because it’s not just stuff I’m parting with. It’s memories. Stories. Chapters. I picked up an old pair of shoes and instantly remembered where I was when I wore them. Then I threw them in the trash.

The yard sale page is great for turning old stuff into new bucks.  You should try it.  Take something that you’ve been holding on to that gives you just a shade of negativity.  Sell it.  Give it away.  Throw it out.  It’s kind of like flipping the pillow in the middle of the night to feel the cool side on your face.  Like the skin when it catches air after removing a bandage. 

Turns out, the same logic applies to the rest of life — not just closets. Sobriety has been a version of that too. Not just quitting drinking — but quitting the things that don’t serve me. The roles I thought I had to play. The people I thought I had to please. The past I thought I had to keep apologizing for.

Letting go isn’t giving up. It’s making room.

And what I’ve learned is that the fewer things we have to focus on — the less clutter in our homes, our heads, our hearts — the more energy we have for what matters. Like catching my son’s baseball games — something that’s been amazing. This time last year, I was tangled up in arguments about whether school libraries needed new bookcases. Whether modernizing anything past the Nixon administration was worth a tax increase of .00001%.

I am serious about this.  Someone actually went through the school library to inspect whether or not new bookcases needed to be in the budget.  Later that night, a full hour of discussion about the stupid bookcases.  I’d be driving home thinking – I missed my son’s game for this?  And…the kids never got their bookcases. Ugh.

I’ve noticed that my son is watching me closer these days. He sees me showing up for him, for us, and for myself. That wasn’t always the case. For a long time, I was surviving in the mess — emotionally, physically, and sometimes literally. And kids can feel that. They can feel the clutter, even if they don’t know what to call it.

Now, he watches me make dinner instead of grabbing takeout. He hears me talk about how far I rode on my bike today – 19.4 miles for the record. He sees me laughing more, sleeping better, and being present. These aren’t massive gestures. They’re small, repeatable acts — but they’re the ones that shape the home a kid grows up in. I didn’t fully understand that before. What mattered was enough dollars, not enough time. 

Living healthier isn’t just about green smoothies or 10,000 steps. It’s about clearing out the noise — the habits, the distractions, the shame — and choosing peace instead. It’s not always easy, and it sure as hell isn’t glamorous. But it’s honest. And in that honesty, there's real strength.

What I am getting at is this…when you make space — in your house, in your head — you give yourself a better shot at being the parent, the partner, the person you actually want to be. You stop reacting and start responding. You stop numbing and start noticing.

So here’s my suggestion — if there’s something in your life that doesn’t bring you peace, let it go. If it drains you more than it feeds you, let it go. Start small. A drawer. A habit. Go big.  A turd of a human who brings you down. You’ll be surprised how much weight you’ve been carrying — and how good it feels to finally put it down.

You don’t need to wait for rock bottom, a relocation, or a court date to start over. You can start today. One drawer. One decision. One clean breath.