In the world of minimalism, where the mantra is "less is more," I often find myself faced with the challenging task of parting with possessions that hold sentimental value.
I am deeply attached to memories, particularly those associated with the precious moments of childhood. I found myself at a crossroads when confronted with an item that seemingly had no purpose - a collection of baby napkins that once belonged to my now-grown baby brother.
These napkins served no practical function in the present, but they were more than just pieces of cloth. They were a vessel of nostalgia, a tangible link to the days when my baby brother was, well, a baby. Each napkin held within its folds memories of innocence, laughter, and the irresistible charm of babyhood. The sentimental value attached to these seemingly mundane objects made parting with them a wearying task.
The struggle intensified when my mother suggested donating the napkins. At this point, I had a choice to make: adhere strictly to the minimalist principle of decluttering and letting go of the unnecessary, or follow my heart, which held onto the past and the beautiful memories it contained.
Rather than yielding to the pressure of decluttering, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I requested the napkins be given to me, claiming I knew the perfect recipient for this sentimental treasure. Unknown to my mom, these napkins became a unique and cherished part of my life. I just enjoyed keeping them.
Over time, I diligently maintained the napkins, washing and folding them with care, as one would with a priceless heirloom. The napkins remained tucked away, a tangible reminder of the past, but still with no clear purpose in the present.
The turning point in this whole drama came when a neighbor welcomed a beautiful baby girl into the world. My love for babies and the desire to share the joy of childhood memories led to a momentous decision. I decided to pass on the napkins to the baby girl, knowing that they would now serve a purpose once more.
This act was not without its pain. It was a bittersweet moment as the napkins left my embrace, with an uncertain future ahead. What would become of these napkins once the baby girl grew up? Would they be treasured as they had been, or would they, like many possessions, end up forgotten and discarded?
The answer to this question remains unknown, but what is clear is that these napkins, imbued with love and nostalgia, will continue to tell a story. They will bring warmth and comfort to a new generation, connecting the past to the present.
Writing this, I realize that my experience with the napkins is a poignant reminder that minimalism isn't just about decluttering and discarding. It's also about understanding the emotional value that certain possessions hold in our lives. Sometimes, it's okay to keep things that may seem purposeless in the present, as long as they bring joy and meaning to our hearts. In my opinion, minimalism and sentimentality can coexist, and sometimes, the act of giving can be as fulfilling as the act of holding on.
With love, teknon✨.
