3 things minimalism taught me as an immigrant

My professor in college spoke at length about identity. Once, he casually remarked on how we represented our countries as soon as we left it.

This conversation headlined a series of sessions where we read poems on the nostalgic loss of the origin country, where questions of displacement and identity constantly met one another.

When it was my time to leave the shores of my country, I became the very subject that I read about in school. I held on to my identity of 3 decades through overstuffed bags that aided me from the uncertainties of the foreign land.

Rich paintings, textiles, and artifacts from home filled the walls of my suburban Chicago apartment. They were souvenirs of my identity, a representation of my past that held me emotionally. The small joys of looking at them faded with time as the reality of managing and moving them across cities came to play. Each move also opened the possibilities to release emotions that I held onto so dearly through these objects.

The new surrounding not only needed maintenance but also regular upkeep and constant attention. As a breather, I slowly stumbled upon minimalism.

I did not need every wall in my house to tell me about the life I had lived. It was my mind that needed to cherish memories of the past, my diverse experiences and I needed a mental and physical space where the new could merge with the old.

Freedom from uncertainty

Holding on to emotions has been considered one of the biggest battles of the human mind. The need to hold on to things comes from a space of uncertainty. The fear of uncertainty could be extreme, especially in a foreign land where the currency doubled the value of everything.

It is at this juncture that one could examine the mental battles of possessions. In the midst of this, we suddenly find the courage to let go of burgeoning bags, and begin afresh, sorting things that matter to us. It suddenly reduces the constant complaints of lesser space, fewer resources, and the never-ending supply of demand and supply. As we let go of objects that have an impact on us, we fortify ourselves to feel free again or maybe embrace it with new energy to begin again.

Finding the idea of happiness

With every move, a new city made a different demand. It was here where I decided to donate the majority and live with the essentials. It was in the search for balance, that I found a break from the cyclical nature of consumeristic spending. I worked on a few favorites that made me feel good about myself. Through this transition, I realized a sense of lightness, to be comfortable in my skin by prioritizing my needs. With this came a fine balance between essentialism and minimalism.

By releasing and letting go, I was dealing with the biggest immigrant battle of starting afresh. Every time something left home, I subconsciously let go off a fear and welcomed the possibility of new. Everyday brought with it a possibility to cleanse, starting afresh where minimalism and essentialism aided my everyday decision making and most importantly how I managed my home and everything it brought with it.

Things at home are reminders of who we are. However, the way we work with them, edit and improvise them help ease the battle of the what ifs and that which was. Suddenly, the idea of displacement gets redefined through detachment as we work on what truly matters and how we choose to define them through the upkeep of our physical and mental spaces.

Minimalism is one such journey that helped me ease this battle within.