(originally posted on 31/07/20)

I don’t usually get attached to things, or rooms or houses. And I’m not- but, no matter how much you hate a certain part of your life, I think it’s always important to think back, reflect and be mindful. Besides, you spent a portion of your life with whatever it may me, and for me, that was this apartment.

I moved here at a really bad point of my life, almost 4 years ago- just before I truly found minimalism. I moved back in with my parents after being in a bad situation, with someone I once called a friend, in my past that I don’t wish to talk about anymore. They’ve had enough of my energy and tears already.

When moving back in with my parents, I left my old life entirely behind me. Upon entering the spare bedroom, it was small and barren- but not in the way that anyone, even a minimalist, would find pleasant. It had a cold atmosphere, and the bare walls made an echo, which made me feel even more alone- which was something I wasn’t use to at the time.

After I left, my parents decided to downsize their house even more, hence the tiny living situation I now found myself in. I walked into the spare bedroom, and all that was in their was a plain black mirror. A mirror that I bought many years ago, in my emo-teen years, that before now was in my parents dusty attic.

My parents work a lot, and when they’re not working, they’re out and about on THEIR travels. I guess I really have inspired them. For a while after I moved back, it was me, my backpack in an empty room- and I had to face myself in that mirror and look at the person I had become. I had to look so deep, so that I could find myself again.

The room I am sitting in right now was a room that, all that time ago, housed my screams and tears as I let out months worth of hurt and emotion. The room is not even 10 foot long or wide, yet it’s witnessed me pace it over one thousand times, trying to contemplate who I was going to be now.

These white emotionless walls have supported me every time I threw myself against on them in a fit of rage, to slide my back down them in floods of tears. This floor, where I’m standing right now, once held a mattress, where I slept on my first night here, as I turned up at 15 minutes to midnight and my parents didn’t even have a bed for me.

So many times I’ve sat on this window ledge and watched the rain as I have cried at 3am. This room has witnessed so many of my panic attacks and mental breakdowns, so many of my almost-giving-up-but-not-quite moments… but also, after a while, so much joy.

Over time, no longer was I crying into my pillow, but I was dancing the night away to cheesy songs. And after a while, the white walls that I once deemed as emotionless, were now a metaphorical white canvas for all my new ideas about life.

For all the days I had spent in this room, when my anxiety was even too high to even go outside, I would sit and paint and draw and create- until my walls were filled with things I had created. My window ledge now held the plants that I bought, to give me a feeling of purpose when I had nothing.

But now, I have outgrown my small white room, like how a hermit crab outgrows his shell. And although the chapter may close, and although it was one of the hardest and most emotional chapters of my life, it’s time to start anew. And onto a new adventure I shall embark.

With the mindful lifestyle I have, I always think it’s important to realise how someone, or something can change you. Change isn’t always bad. And I think your environment can play as big of a factor as people can- in some sense.

It was here, in this tiny apartment where I found minimalism, and although my family is moving to a bigger house- with more open space, we are going with more open minds and open hearts then when we came here. Minimalism doesn’t always have to mean small.

One day, I want to buy a bus and convert it into a little house, but right now, I’m looking forward to enjoying a back garden again, where I can practice my mindfulness and meditation amongst the flowers- which is something that will bring me a lot of joy.