Letting Go of Safety: Minimalism, Stuff, and the Middle Way

For a long time, I held onto things—objects, routines, strategies—not necessarily because I needed them, but because they made me feel safe. Or at least, they gave the illusion of safety. I’ve also moved through phases of minimalism, thinking that not having things might offer that same sense of control. But recently, something deeper has come into view: neither holding on nor letting go truly provides safety.

There’s been a quiet but powerful shift over the past months. Layers of fear-based strategies started to dissolve—strategies I didn’t even know were running the show. I started to see how much of my life, even subtle behaviors like how I dress, how I keep my space, or whether I smell good, were actually rooted in trying to feel safe. They weren’t necessarily wrong or bad, they were just coming from a misunderstanding. The idea that I could manage life through control.

Then something dropped: the grasping itself.

It was overwhelming at first. When those strategies fall away, you’re left face-to-face with the rawness of life—its unpredictability, its inherent vulnerability. There’s no longer a sense of "if I do X, Y will be okay." But strangely, there’s also peace. Because the weight of pretending to be in control is finally gone.

This included the way I related to stuff, especially emergency items or things I kept around "just in case." I saw how I was holding onto some items out of fear of lack or imagined future disaster. But now, from a more grounded place, I could also see that certain things (like food, clothing, an emergency radio or power bank) aren’t about grasping. They’re just practical. A gentle form of care. They don’t promise ultimate safety, and they don’t need to.

Minimalism isn’t salvation, and neither is accumulation. What matters is the motive behind it.

You can be a minimalist from fear, trying to manage life through control.

Or you can accumulate from fear, trying to protect yourself through possessions.

And you can also do either from clarity.

Now, I don’t feel the need to be extreme in either direction. If I give something away, it’s because it’s no longer needed—not because I believe owning less will make me free. If I keep something useful, it’s not because I believe it will save me, but because it serves a purpose in caring for this life.

What’s left is just a quiet presence. A sense that consequences are okay. That there’s no need to avoid what comes. And that life, just as it is, doesn't require constant managing.

There’s a kind of minimalism in that, too.

But this one’s not about stuff.

It’s about freedom.