The Year of Less: How I Stopped Shopping, Gave Away My Belongings, and Discovered Life Is Worth More Than Anything You Can Buy in a Store

by Cait Flanders

One thing debt and clutter have in common is that as soon as you start letting it pile up, it can be harder and harder to see your way around it.

That was the day I emptied every closet, cupboard, and drawer in my apartment and dumped the contents onto the floor of each room. This was a few months before Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up hit bookshelves in North America, but the method was essentially the same. The neat and tidy home I’d always lived in was no more. I was left standing in a mess I didn’t recognize, yet every item in it belonged to me. Staring at it all, I was overwhelmed with the task I had just created for myself. What have I done? When you make a mess of that size, though, you have no choice but to clean it up. It was time to get to work.

By the end of the month, I felt good—as though I’d already accomplished a lot. My home felt lighter, somehow. There was more room to live in and more room to breathe in.

Changing a habit and routine you’ve spent a decade perfecting is never easy.

I read somewhere that people attempt to quit things up to a dozen times before they finally quit for good. This was certainly true for my drinking.

Each time I craved it, I had to stand in the moment, pay attention to what had triggered the craving, and change my reaction.

The toughest part of not being allowed to buy anything new wasn’t that I couldn’t buy anything new—it was having to physically confront my triggers and change my reaction to them.

All I had done in the past was choose what I wanted to be busy doing. I had prioritized television over people and, in turn, lost precious time with them.

Then I spent a year sorting through the mess and figuring out who I really was. A writer and a reader. Hiker and traveler. Dog owner and animal lover. Sister, daughter, and friend. It turned out I had never been someone who valued material objects. I valued the people in my life and the experiences we shared together. None of that could be found in the belongings in my home. It had always been in my heart.

Remember that all you’re committing to is slowing down and asking yourself what you really want, rather than acting on impulse. That’s it.

One of the greatest lessons I learned during these years is that whenever you’re thinking of binging, it’s usually because some part of you or your life feels like it’s lacking—and nothing you drink, eat, or buy can fix it. I know, because I’ve tried it all and none of it worked. Instead, you have to simplify, strip things away, and figure out what’s really going on. Falling into the cycle of wanting more, consuming more, and needing even more won’t help. More was never the answer. The answer, it turned out, was always less.