resetting
Resetting
A Season to Let Go
As one season fades, another quietly begins.
Summer has slipped away almost without notice. The cicadas that once filled the air with their desperate, humming cry have fallen silent, their short lives ended by the cool breath of night. The heat that felt endless has suddenly vanished, and now each morning I reach for socks and a sweater. Another season has turned.
It has been three years since I last opened this blog. I’m not sure what kept me so busy, but today — in this bright, beautiful weather — sitting down to write feels strangely comforting. I’m grateful for this quiet moment to sort through my thoughts.
Lately, I’ve been decluttering. Donation bags pile up, the trash bin fills every week, and still I’m surrounded by things. I tell myself over and over, “Don’t buy anything unnecessary.” Yet while sorting, I can’t help but think: if I had invested instead of purchasing so many objects, would I already be financially free?
Years ago, when someone I knew passed away, I watched the son-in-law clean out the house. A massive dumpster stood outside, and countless items — clothes, hats, bags, everyday belongings — had to be thrown away. It struck me that the burden of sorting a life’s possessions always falls on those left behind. I remember thinking then, “I should organize my things before I go.” And yet here I am, holding onto far more than I need.
In many ways, this moment feels like an unexpected turning point — one I didn’t choose entirely, but one that seems necessary. Nothing is decided yet, nothing certain. But as I clear out my belongings, it feels like I’m clearing room in my heart as well.
This intense focus on decluttering is deeply rooted in the **psychology of consumption and control**. Possessions often serve as extensions of the self, reinforcing identity and providing a false sense of security; hence, letting them go requires a psychological shift. The reflection on financial freedom is key here: studies suggest that excessive consumerism is often an attempt to fill emotional voids, resulting in **"clutter anxiety"** which paradoxically limits both mental and financial resources. Furthermore, the act of sorting through a life's belongings after witnessing loss serves as a confrontation with **mortality**—a crucial reminder that our true value resides in **experience and relationships**, not in the material legacy we leave behind. The physical act of clearing objects thus becomes a mindful exercise in **prioritization and internal reset**.
The chill in the air makes me uneasy. A strange fear rises — the fear of becoming unanchored, of drifting. But then I remember myself at twenty-two, boarding a plane with only two suitcases and a little bit of money, relying on nothing but courage and faith. Maybe this is another season calling me to reset, to find direction again.
Just as I have lived well until now, I believe I’ll continue to find my way through whatever comes next.
This moment of anxiety—the "strange fear rise" of "becoming unanchored"—is a normal psychological response to transition, especially after a period of intense change or reflection. It highlights the human need for stability and control. The powerful recollection of past self, traveling with "only two suitcases," functions as a critical **coping mechanism** known as **drawing on past resilience**. This memory is empirical evidence that you have navigated uncertainty before, proving your inherent capacity for self-reliance and faith. The concluding belief, "I'll continue to find my way," is an affirmation of **psychological resilience**—the ability to adapt and maintain well-being despite stress. This reset, therefore, is not just about clearing things but about renewing the trust in your own **internal anchor**, grounded not in external possessions, but in proven courage and adaptable spirit.
🍂 Life Seasons Series
Essays on the changing seasons of life — growth, gratitude, renewal.
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