Ragne's Abyss

The idea of having less makes me feel tranquil. I enjoy looking at photos of rooms that have little to no furniture. Decorations don’t crowd the walls in a bedroom, and there’s only a lamp or two brightening the space. Images like that make me feel good. I’ve tried to dig deep within myself to understand why simplicity brings me a sense of well-being. I’ve come to the realization that spaces that have very little remind me of a blank canvas. There’s no identity attached to a blank canvas. You have the ability to create a new reality every time you enter the room, not physically but emotionally. Empty spaces are clean—there’s very little crowding. It’s like having a clear conscience. The only thing is, it’s difficult to minimize the decoration I have in my living spaces.

I attach emotion to everything that I own, so getting rid of it becomes difficult. I get stuck with clutter flooding the place where I spend most of my time. My bedroom overstimulates me, and I don’t always enjoy staying in it. The same goes for my closet, for my closet is a space I truly hate looking at. That doesn’t mean I’m ungrateful for what I have—I’m extremely grateful. I just have tons of clothes, far too much. I feel guilty for wanting to get rid of some pieces due to my mother and myself putting so much money into my wardrobe.

Though I value bright colors, they can make me irritable. Perhaps it’s the rainbow array of colors that makes my closet overstimulating. It feels like walking into a room covered in rainbows. Positive symbolism can be overpowering when it’s constantly visible. The brightness burns my retinas after so long, just like the sun. Yet, dark and neutral colors sadden me. Imagining a closet full of darkness sounds exhausting to look at. Though that may be admirable to many, having a closet with only black clothing, the thought fills me with misery. I believe that what surrounds me influences my life; so, filling my atmosphere with darkness will only manifest that darkness in my life.

I’m realizing that the things I want are solely for the moment. I believe that I want them but I know that I wouldn’t want them all the time. A less vibrant closet is something I only want for the moment. A fully colorful one is something I admire from afar. An empty room after some time would become too simple for my liking. I would achieve momentary pleasure from a cluttered space. So, how can I know that a want of mine is truly what I desire? Maybe a solution would be to sit on the idea for longer rather than jumping the moment I feel it. Even so, the feeling of change never goes away until it is completed.

The moment the change has been made, I wish to return to what I was or had. Perhaps that is why I overspend so much of my money; a horrible habit I yearn to abolish. I’m unsure of how to stop without holding myself back from material pleasure. For there are many material things that bring me happiness and gratitude. Is happiness long-term? No, but many things in life do not provide long-term happiness. Yet, I shouldn’t place such an intense emotion onto objects that can easily be discarded. I wouldn’t be so attached to my belongings if I didn’t connect them to positive emotions. Unattachment may be the solution after all.