Abundance begins where the unnecessary disappears.I’ve carried this thought for years. Not just as a minimalist mantra, but as a compass for meaning—one I return to whenever life gets crowded, noisy, or numb. You see, so much of what weighs us down isn’t what we lack, but what we let accumulate….old digital tabs, scattered commitments, unsaid words, inherited expectations. The surplus of “just in case.” The noise of what doesn’t serve. Neuroscience gives this a form: the prefrontal cortex, the very seat of our clarity and intention, thrives in spaciousness. When there’s too much clutter—mental or emotional—our ability to choose, to focus, to create, gets hijacked. Cortisol rises, dopamine dips, and the mind tumbles into overwhelm. But each time I let something go….an unnecessary meeting, a tired self-story, the ache to please everyone….I notice how energy returns. Suddenly, there’s room to breathe. The brain’s default mode network can knit meaning, the prefrontal cortex can plan, and a quieter kind of abundance settles in. In Nie Wieder Sinnlos, I wrote that fullness isn’t about adding, but subtracting. The empty space between notes is what turns noise into music. So here’s what I’ve learned (and keep relearning): If you want abundance….mental, creative, emotional….don’t hunt for more. Sweep the floor. Let the surplus go. Cut the “musts” in half. Ask yourself: What can I set down, right now, that’s become heavier than its worth? What is just filling space, not adding value? What would my mind sound like, if it was a little more empty….on purpose? That’s where abundance waits. Not in the next thing you buy, read, or schedule….but in the empty chair beside you, the breath between two sentences, the clean desktop, the feeling of having just enough. It’s quiet, this abundance. But it’s the kind that lasts. |