Our Minimalism Journey: Sorting Through Hopes, Broken Dreams, and Promises

And getting through the hard stuff.

To read more, check out the minimizing project and our family's second minimalizing project: finding simplicity after divorce.

How do I decide which sentimental items to keep — what truly matters?

Photos of happy times, souvenirs, the tent we bought for the Boundary Waters trip — our marriage license.

Keep, donate, toss?

I mean, the marriage license means nothing at this point; why would I keep it? The logical choice is to toss it. But how do you throw away a paper that represents our life — erase it like it never existed?

This paper signifies some of the happiest and most difficult times of my life.

But legal documents certainly don’t validate what a marriage meant. They don’t prove or affirm the deeper meaning. It’s human touch — love, connections, experiences, memories — not something we buy or some legal stamp on a piece of paper.

So on that deeper level, does tossing it mean these past twenty-some years didn’t matter?

Because they did.

But the part that kept throwing me off is they no longer do. My focus is on the present and future; the past is over. I have a beautiful family because of our marriage, but us, we, him — that’s done.

Throwing away a piece of paper is easy, but coming to terms with the lurking emotions wrapped up within it is a bit more complex.

For me, tossing it is like severing the final fragment binding us. When we divorce, it’s legally over. But the feeling in our hearts takes longer to catch up.

I’m there.

I have no desire to look back at what could or should’ve been. Everything is as it’s supposed to be. So, once I was able to sort through the rush of unexpected emotions, I decided to toss it — onward and forward.

I felt this moment deserved a somewhat symbolic closing ceremony — to honor the beautiful blessings that came from our marriage. I thought about a bonfire but we’re knee-deep in snow where I live.

Instead, I lit a candle, put on some music, fired up the paper shredder, and said a prayer of thanks.

And then I stopped.

Another thought had struck me. I hadn’t checked to see if there were any legal reasons to keep a marriage license after a divorce.

I’d gotten so caught up in the emotional side I hadn’t even considered that part.

Turns out, after a long-term marriage, you could be entitled to part of your ex’s social security benefits. Well, that may come in handy one day; you just never know.

So, it’s in the keep pile. But emotionally, it’s in the toss pile, and that’s enough for now.

Like I said before, the minimalizing journey sometimes seems more a mental process than physical.

We’re still working on all the stuff from storage. We’ve made progress but we’re still in the thick of it. There is still so much stuff. But I’m holding onto what the end result will feel and look like — less stuff, more simplicity.

Broken promises are turning into new hopes and dreams.

It’s still an absolute mess, but I’m walking the walk — and I’ve never felt more sure of my footing.