Post 3/ The Art of Letting Go
Clothesline in Nice, France. A symbol for the essence of Psyche Butterfly.
“Letting go is even more important than adding.” - Marie Kondo
Before we dive in to the physical work, I want to share one last blog on the Psyche Butterfly concept. By now, you understand why Psyche—the soul—is our symbol for simplicity and how every experiment and resource I create will prioritize mental travel, no matter where you are. But there’s one more concept that inspired me to start this journey: the simple act of hanging clothes out on the line.
This mundane chore holds more value than we often realize. Instead of using complex machines that weather our clothes, we turn to what nature has already given us. Hanging clothes to dry isn’t about reinventing the wheel; it’s about embracing simplicity and community. We expose the clothes on our backs, let go of the delicate pieces that shield us, and in doing so, add a little more color to our surroundings. Hanging clothes out to dry perfectly captures the essence of Psyche Butterfly: we embrace simplicity, engage in community, and create space for the inner work and mental travel that truly matter.
I admire those who prioritize "traveling the mind" over the romanticized idea of world travel, yet here I am in a picturesque place, embodying that contradiction. As our two-month Europe trip winds down, I’m keenly aware that the next phase of physical simplification is just around the corner, and I can’t wait to return home and channel this fresh energy into making meaningful changes. You know you’ve done a long trip well when you don’t feel sadness about going home, but are instead excited to apply the newfound inspiration. I also realize that I wouldn’t have been able to fully enjoy moments like strolling through Bruges, relaxing on a train in Hamburg, or savoring labneh in Berlin without first going through months of grief and deep self-reflection. Or, better said, the famous poet, Kahlil Gibran wrote, “Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”
Since losing my job, I’ve explored every possibility—taking on unexpected roles like applying to be a local bread baker at our brewery, a dog walker, and even a commercial painter. On top of that, I applied to over 500 jobs. After trying and leaving three different positions, it became clear that my mind was signaling the need for a major shift. Each role I stepped into, and subsequently left, was a part of a larger message: that I needed to realign with something more meaningful and sustainable for myself—one that resembled the simple choice like clothes on the line—one that resembles letting go.
I’m grateful for the privilege to step away from a traditional 9-5—something Jared and I couldn’t afford just a few years ago. He’s taken on the role of sole breadwinner, allowing me the space to redefine how we live. This wasn’t an easy transition for me, especially since I was raised to value independence, but we’ve chosen to lean into our individual strengths. Jared excels at providing for our material needs, while I find joy in creating a beautiful home. Although I always knew this was something I’d enjoy, I had convinced myself that success required a businesswoman persona. Now, we’ve chosen to fully embrace and celebrate these roles. Don’t expect “trad wife” trends or homemaking posts from me, but do expect an attitude of gratitude. In partnership, delegating roles based on strengths doesn’t mean co-dependency—it means honoring and celebrating what comes natural for us.
This journey—both the one we've just experienced and the one ahead—is about letting go. As I write from trains, planes, and coffee tables, fueled by too much espresso, I’m proud to be here with you—not because of the new places or perspectives, but because the hard work, trial, and error of the past year have led us to this place of simplification and inner work together. Letting go has been key. Sometimes, you have to release control and allow life to unfold.
I’ve struggled to embody those teachings this past year. It was the practice of Asana (physical movement) and Pranayama (breathwork) that got me through it all. One of my favorite lessons from Rolf Gates’ Meditations on the Mat is about letting go and trusting the journey. He wrote, the journey of yoga is “an invitation to get into the canoe of your practice and flow down the river of yoga. You may go deep, into uncharted waters; you will surely encounter challenges and delights along the way. But first you must get into that canoe and let go. Let your practice be a refuge from the need to control. And I suggest the same to you: get out of the driver's seat for a while and enjoy the scenery. Let the river of yoga take you where it will. If you hit whitewater, stay in the canoe and keep paddling. When you enter calm pools, do the same.”
Psyche Butterfly came to me when critical parts of my formative growth were stripped away. In learning to let go, I realized I want to build my days on my own terms, not dictated by an institution. Like clothes hung out to dry, I feel light and free, ready to return to my truest self—with you.
Next week, you’ll see the template for how each Monday’s blog will be structured. I’ll outline the intentions for the week ahead and provide guidance on how to prepare for the following week’s action items.
