When my husband and I moved to the Philippines many years ago, I became aware for the first time of how positively simplicity and minimalism can affect my life and my well-being.
Before we left, we sold all our belongings for very little money to friends at a small flea market in our apartment.
I still remember how liberating it felt to let go of all this “stuff” that had never really meant that much to me. The adventure that lay ahead of us was so much more present. In that moment, I realized how little I was actually attached to things.
A friend recently told me that to this day she cannot understand how easily we were able to take that step back then.
How much do we really need?
I didn’t miss a single piece of clothing. On the contrary: I loved this simple life on the tropical island.
Two T-shirts.
Two pairs of shorts.
Two bikinis.
One diving shorty.
A pair of flip-flops.
That was all I needed.
Once, we spent a weekend in Manila. We wanted to go to a restaurant, but we weren’t allowed in because we weren’t wearing closed shoes.
So we found another one. The food tasted just as good there.
I also remember how I often spent hours playing on the beach with the Filipino son of one of our employees. We spent hours creating little mosaics in the sand from stones, shells, leaves and flowers. I still love thinking back on those moments.
When we returned to Austria, some of our friends already had children. Their living rooms were often overflowing with plastic toys, most of which seemed to bore the children after a very short time.
What a contrast.
Since then, I have become much more conscious of consumerism in our society. Because every thing doesn’t just take up space. It has to be bought. Cared for. Looked for. Repaired. Tidied away. And eventually disposed of.
That doesn’t mean I am completely immune to consumerism. Of course I enjoy a beautiful piece of furniture or a new piece of sports equipment.
But whenever I consciously ask myself the question: Do I really need this? Something changes.
Does owning really make us freer?
We so easily equate ownership with freedom. But is that really our own belief? Or is it something we have been conditioned to believe?
Advertising constantly reinforces this connection. It promises us that when we buy a new car, we get a whole package of freedom included.
But what are we actually buying?
A loan.
An expensive insurance policy.
Regular service costs.
Repairs.
And in the end, these additional commitments bind us even more strongly to work and the pressure to earn money. Is that really freedom?
“Possessions are a burden,” my father used to say. And he was right.
My father was a successful businessman. Yet owning a lot of things was never particularly important to him. He lived well, but compared to many of his friends, he had remarkably little interest in status symbols and constantly acquiring more.
We don’t have to buy everything we can afford. And not everything that looks like freedom actually makes us freer.
Complex or Complicated?
My life is certainly more complex today than it was back then in the Philippines. But not everything that is complex also has to be complicated.
And how often do I make things more complicated for myself than they need to be? Especially in my head.
Through thought loops. Through assumptions. Through constantly weighing all the possible consequences.
What if ...?
But maybe ...?
And what if it does ...?
Of course, we cannot simplify every decision. Life is complex. But honestly: How often do we make it unnecessarily complicated on top of that?
Today I know that I can keep reminding my mind to look for a simple and perhaps even elegant solution, instead of getting more and more tangled up in complicated theories and assumptions.
We don’t have to solve our entire lives. Sometimes it is enough to take care of the next moment.
Letting Go Instead of Always Adding More
When a problem arises, we often automatically respond with the same questions:
What else do I need to do?
What else do I need?
What else could I optimize?
But do we really have to constantly achieve something or prove something? Couldn’t we focus more often on what is already there?
And even ask ourselves: What can go?
A commitment.
An obligation.
Self-imposed pressure.
An argument.
A piece of clothing.
A habit.
An expectation of myself.
But in order to let something go, I first have to recognize what is non-essential to me.
We have become so accustomed to so much of what fills our lives that we no longer question whether we actually still need it. Whether it merely fills our lives or truly fulfills them.
Simplicity begins with pausing.
What is really important to me?
Does this still serve me?
Do I really need this?
Or does it simply make my life fuller without making it richer?
Only when I clearly see what I actually don’t need, what unnecessarily burdens me or makes my life more complicated, can I consciously choose to let it go.
Letting Go Without Missing Anything
I myself have experienced the freedom of letting go very strongly when it comes to alcohol.
Alcohol used to be a completely natural part of many moments in my life. With a meal. At celebrations. During a cozy evening. And especially at social events – partly because, back then, alcohol somehow felt like part of belonging.
Today, letting it go no longer feels like deprivation to me at all. It feels like freedom.
No hangover.
No more wondering: Can I still drive?
No regrets about things I said but didn’t really mean. Or about emotional reactions I could no longer control.
And no more parties or social occasions that I first have to “drink myself into enjoying.”
What amazes me most about it: My desire for alcohol has completely disappeared. I never would have imagined that this would one day be the case.
I didn’t have to forbid myself from drinking alcohol. I didn’t have to constantly fight the desire for it. At some point, it simply stopped being important.
And that is exactly what I experience as a great freedom today.
Not because I am taking something away from myself. But because I simply no longer need it.
When Letting Go Is Braver Than Holding On
We often hold on to relationships, projects or decisions because we have already invested so much. Time. Money. Energy. And sometimes that is exactly why we put pressure on ourselves to keep going. After all, we have already put so much into it.
Our brains want to justify past investments. And so we sometimes put even more time, even more energy or even more money into something that actually no longer fits us.
A simple question that can be very helpful in situations like these is: If I were starting over today – without the backstory and without everything I have already invested – would I choose this again?
If the honest answer is no, that realization can be incredibly liberating. Because we don’t get back what we have already invested by investing even more.
This applies to me even with relationships that were once very valuable to me. People change. I change. And sometimes something that was once right simply no longer fits my life.
Then it can be necessary to let someone go with love. Without resentment. Without bitterness. Without devaluing the time we shared. Even this kind of letting go can feel incredibly relieving.
Courage doesn’t always mean carrying on. Sometimes courage means being honest enough to stop.
Do Less. Take More Breaks.
Precisely because our lives are so complex today, we need phases in which we don’t have to do anything at all. Pauses in which nothing needs to be accomplished.
Times when we don’t have to achieve, learn or optimize anything else. Simply be. No phone. No series. Just pause.
So often we try to improve or enrich our lives by adding something else:
Another course.
Another trip.
Another task.
And at some point, we need a course to learn how to calm down again after all of it.
Sometimes the simpler solution is: Don’t add anything else. Take something away instead. Or simply enjoy what is already here. Today. Now.
The present moment doesn’t ask: What do I need next? Instead: What is already here?
The Freedom in Simplicity
Year by year, I feel more strongly how much letting go means freedom to me.
Fewer things mean more space.
Fewer appointments mean more pauses.
Less having to means more time.
Fewer thoughts about everything we still ought to do create more space for what truly matters.
We don’t always need more to have a more fulfilling life.
For me, simplicity doesn’t mean having less of life. It means putting less between myself and life.
LUMA – it begins in you.
MINI-EXERCISE
Choose something in your life that you find yourself wondering whether you really need.
It could be an object.
A habit.
An obligation.
An appointment.
Or something you do again and again.
Pause for a moment and ask yourself:
Does this bring me closer to myself – or take me further away?
Does it give me energy – or ultimately cost me more energy?
Would I miss it if it were no longer there?
Am I doing this because I truly want to – or because I believe I have to?
Does it make my life richer – or simply fuller?
Notice what happens when you begin to look more consciously.
Reflection question:
What in my life could I let go of without truly losing anything?