Embracing Minimalism

As my husband, Sean, and I prepare to leave behind our current home in Alaska and most of our possessions for a new life in Washington this September, I find myself reflecting deeply on the nature of transition. This isn't just a physical move; it's a deliberate choice to shed the weight of accumulated things and step into a lighter, more intentional way of living and living by the values that are important to us.

The Decision to Let Go

The conversation started innocently enough. "What if we just... didn't take most of this stuff with us?" I suggested one evening as we surveyed our home filled with furniture, books, kitchenware, and the countless objects we've gathered over the years.

What began as a practical consideration to simplify our move gradually evolved into something more profound – a conscious unburdening, a reset of our relationship with material possessions, and an opportunity to question what truly matters in our lives.

Understanding Our Transition Through William Bridges' Model

In his influential work on navigating life changes, William Bridges outlines three distinct phases that people experience during transitions. As Sean and I move through our own transformation, I'm struck by how perfectly our journey aligns with this framework.

Phase 1: Embracing Endings

According to Bridges, meaningful transitions begin not with the excitement of what's new, but with the recognition and processing of what's ending. This initial phase involves acknowledging losses – of roles, routines, relationships, or identities – and creating space to honor them before moving forward.

For us, this phase has been about methodically going through our belongings, holding each item and asking difficult questions. The vintage reading chair that I found at an antique store but doesn't quite fit our vision for the future. The extensive cooking collection that shaped countless football parties but now feels excessive for the simpler life we're designing.

Each decision to donate, sell, or discard represents a small ending. Some items leave easily; others carry emotional weight that requires patience to process. We've found ourselves sharing stories as we sort, giving ourselves permission to feel nostalgic while still releasing these objects back into the world.

There's grief in this process, even when the change is voluntary and positive. We're saying goodbye not just to possessions but to the versions of ourselves that acquired and cherished them. By acknowledging these endings rather than rushing past them, we're laying a foundation for what comes next.

Phase 2: Navigating the Neutral Zone

Bridges describes the second phase of transition as a psychological "no-man's-land" between the old reality and the new one that hasn't yet formed. This neutral zone can feel disorienting and uncomfortable, but it's also rich with creative possibility.

We're living in this liminal space now. Our home feels increasingly sparse as possessions depart. Some rooms contain nothing but outlines on the walls where art once hung. We're sleeping on a mattress without a frame. The kitchen has been pared down to essential tools only.

This in-between state creates a particular kind of tension. There's discomfort in the emptiness and ambiguity, yet also a growing sense of lightness and potential. Without the physical and visual weight of our possessions anchoring us to past identities, new questions emerge: Who are we becoming? What do we truly value? What do we want our lives in Washington to look and feel like?

Rather than rushing to fill this uncertainty with new purchases or concrete plans, we're practicing sitting with the questions. We're sketching potential layouts for our new life but leaving room for inspiration to emerge once we're there. We're researching area to live on Whidbey Island, but remaining open to surprises and unexpected fits.

This neutral zone is teaching us to embrace impermanence and to find stability within ourselves rather than in our surroundings or possessions.

Phase 3: Anticipating New Beginnings

The final phase in Bridges' model is where new identities, purposes, and visions take hold. While we haven't reached this stage yet – our journey to Washington still lies ahead – we catch glimpses of it in our conversations and dreams for the future.

We speak of creating a life defined by open space rather than possessions. Of building community connections rather than accumulating things. Of designing daily rhythms aligned with our values rather than defaulting to past patterns.

These aren't just practical adjustments but the emergence of new ways of being in the world. By deliberately shedding so much of our physical past, we're creating space for new aspects of identity to emerge and take root once we arrive in Washington.

Lessons from Our Minimalist Transition

As we navigate this process of letting go and moving forward, certain insights continue to surface:

Material possessions carry emotional weight. The physical work of sorting and removing belongings is inextricably linked to emotional processing. Each decision requires us to confront our attachments and ask what they represent.

Voluntary simplicity creates freedom. There's a profound difference between having things taken from you and consciously choosing to release them. Our deliberate unburdening feels like creating space for breath, movement, and possibility.

Transitions reveal our relationship with control. So much of what makes change uncomfortable is the dissolution of certainty. Learning to release our grip on known outcomes has been perhaps the most challenging and valuable aspect of this journey.

Shared transition strengthens bonds. Moving through this process together has created countless opportunities for Sean and I to articulate values, negotiate differences, and support each other's emotional processes. The result has been a deeper understanding of ourselves and each other.

Looking Forward to September

As our departure date approaches, we continue the daily practice of letting go – of objects, of routines, of expectations. Our home grows emptier while our conversations about the future grow richer. The physical lightness we're creating mirrors the psychological openness we hope to bring to our new beginning in Washington.

This transition is teaching us that endings aren't just something to get through on the way to something better – they're essential components of meaningful change. The neutral zone isn't just disorienting confusion – it's fertile ground for creativity. And new beginnings aren't just about changed circumstances – they're about transformed selves.

When September comes and we drive south with our carefully chosen remnants of our former life, we'll carry with us not just possessions but the wisdom gained from this process of intentional transition. The most valuable thing we're taking to Washington may be this learning: that what we release creates space for what we become.

What transitions are you navigating? Have you experienced these three phases in your own life changes? How do your values help you to navigate your transitions?

Please reach out if you would like support in navigating the transitions you are experiencing.