Mementos are meaningful, uplifting objects that remind us of people and events from our past that we want to carry forward. By all means, let’s all keep our cherished mementos.

But there are mementos, and then there are anchors.

Anchors are not uplifting, or even bittersweet. They fill us with dread, grief, shame, regret, or boredom.

They do not remind us of good times; they tether us to our past at the expense of being present.

We don’t cherish them, display them, or use them. We stash them away out of a sense of obligation, or out of guilt, or out of avoidance of the work necessary to handle them.

Transitions in our life can render some of our possessions irrelevant, but when the transition is positive, we can declutter many of those items without much emotional labor.

But when a transition feels like a loss, we can tend to avoid dealing with the associated objects. We keep each pair of jeans that no longer fit. We keep every letter from our failed relationship. We keep all the housewares from our deceased loved one’s home. These items get squirreled away, dredging up negative emotions each time we happen upon them.

We can, and should, declutter these anchors. It might take more out of us than a pantry clean-out would; there’s a reason sentimental items are the last category in the Konmari method. But it’s also a huge return on investment, as we distill our sentimental things down to our mementos, and unburden ourselves from these souvenirs of pain.

Minimalism to me isn’t having as little as possible, but rather keeping only what is relevant to my life. And if an object is encouraging me to stagnate, if I don’t use it, need it, want it, or even like it, I have to be very careful not to carry it forward into my future.