Go Bigger By Going Smaller

13 hours ago
5 min read

Minimalism, Letting Go, and the Road to Becoming

Recently, an old friend of mine asked me to play the 30-Day Minimalism game.

The rules are simple:

Day one: Remove one thing you don’t need.

Day two: Remove two more things.

Day three: Three more. And so on.

You can donate, sell, give stuff away to friends, or just throw it away. Continue for thirty days.

At the time we began this challenge, I was feeling pretty overwhelmed in my life. So the idea of removing "extra stuff" to simplify my life seemed like a truly welcome option.

That shirt that no longer fit, that hoodie with holes in it — gone.
Those books I never read — gone.
All of the crap from old projects I never finished — gone.

I kept a log of everything so I could reflect on it.

Some of these things were easy to get rid of - for others, it was a very tough call. Little trinkets from old relationships. Reminders of earlier versions of myself. Some of these things I kept because I still used them, they still served a purpose, or I just could not seem to let go of them.

As the days went on, the decisions in this 'game' became more challenging.

So I had a "judgment chair." I would put the stuff on the chair, and I would ask myself:

Why am I still keeping this?

Am I actually using it?

What does this thing mean to me? Who is this thing for, who I am now, or who I used to be?

What became very clear is this kind of "passive load accumulation" of all of the things that sat in my house that were no longer a part of my life - I was either just holding onto them, or too lazy to deal with deciding it was time to move on. Either way, the full volume of this stuff was cluttering my head and my space, and even many of the good things were holding me back now.

Over the course of days and weeks, I could see the space opening up in my apartment. It was liberating, but it was also unsettling. There were moments I stood in those newly open areas and I would just sigh. I felt a kind of grief... A void... An emptiness.

Yet there was more space in my apartment - it was undeniable. And in my better moments, it felt like there was potential for something new.

My living space suddenly felt like there was more space to live.

Removing physical clutter made it easier for me to face emotional clutter. Letting go of unused objects helped me let go of outdated narratives that no longer worked for me. I was ready for a new story.

And what remained felt intentional. That Ted Greene guitar book. Some old family photographs. Clothes that actually fit me and that I felt comfortable wearing.

By Day 24, I had removed 285 things and I felt that it was time to stop. I was pretty shell-shocked from the experience. But it was helpful in reflecting on what was important to me now, and realizing that some of these things had changed. I had changed, and it was a good thing.

Men are often taught to accumulate possessions as a sign of success or status. We’re rarely taught how to remove or release as a way to wellness and empowerment.

Sometimes going "smaller" is not weakness. Sometimes it’s precision. Maybe it's even transformation.

Now, a quick word of caution. Not all removal is a good thing:

Years ago, in a moment of emotional intensity, I threw away a massive binder of over 1,500 songs I had written over many years. I didn’t want to feel “bound” by my past work, and in an impulsive moment I threw it out. I regret that.

Then there was the time I sold a valuable comic book collection for almost nothing when I was broke and impatient. I had spent years collecting and buying those comics (Daredevil, X-Men, and yes even Dazzler :) - I was a Marvel guy back then before the "cinematic universe" hit. I regret that too.

Ideally, we should make decisions about letting go or moving on when we are lucid, not in moments of desperation or intense emotional reaction. The goal isn’t destruction or deprivation. It’s re-alignment to a life more consistent with who we are and what really drives us.

So I will ask you to consider:

What is in your living space that is no longer living?
What are you holding on to that belongs to a former version of yourself?
Cognitive load is real. Clutter isn’t just in closets. It’s in our phones. Our obligations. Our constant notifications. Are we overwhelmed because life is overwhelming — or because we never remove anything?
What would it look like to clear your space — physically, emotionally, digitally, or even occupationally — for what truly matters to you

You are more than a storage unit.

You are more than a responder to text messages, emails and obligations.

You are allowed to choose what you make room for in your life.

I want to share a personal success story:

I was coming off a work project that took years to complete. There were overlapping deadlines and pressures, and a lot of long nights. There were many moments I wasn’t sure I could carry it through. It was a team effort but it was a large team, and I was at the center of it.

Yet we somehow made the impossible happen, showing up each day and pushing it forward.

After the project ended, I started thinking: If I can make this "impossible" thing happen for other people, what impossible things could I achieve for myself?

For some time I had thought about starting a YouTube channel around playing guitar and writing songs, and how the guitar can trigger emotions and help us heal. I had some amazing teachers and I have wanted to share things I have learned in the hope it would help others be more creative, learn the instrument in an exciting and fun way, and find healing in music, just as I have.

So I took a course and turned my bedroom into a low-fi home studio. I started recording videos out of my house.

I started a YouTube channel called Healing with Guitar and Song and as of this article, I have published four videos .

Each one of these things takes hours — from the script, to the filming, the editing, to the guitar tablature and video overlays. Sometimes I work on them in the middle of the night because the rest of life is still there... All the same work and life obligations and responsibilities. I had to make space for it, and sometimes make tough choices about my time. And there have been some solitary moments on free weekends where I am holed up shooting and editing.