At some point, your shit owns you. A few years ago, I was forced to move in with my gf (long story) She owned a house, filled with her own stuff. I was left wi

At some point, your shit owns you. A few years ago, I was forced to move in with my gf (long story) She owned a house, filled with her own stuff. I was left with no option but to dispense with furniture etc. Some was sold, some given away, some donated. I moved in with my clothes, some memento's and heirlooms and some kitchen utensils (just in case it didn't work out). I moved everything in two loads of my truck. Over the years, theirs been times where I was considering moving out. Not having to deal with all that STUFF is intensely freeing. Call it an awakening through involuntarily minimalism.