One of the joys of minimalism is the freeing sensation of shedding that which weighs you down. At first, it’s just the physical “stuff” that carries literal weight. After a while, though, it goes deeper and becomes more meaningful: the “stuff” becomes abstract concepts that reside in the psyche, stuff whose weight seems infinite and thus unsheddable… until they’re shed and you look back and say, “Why was I letting that hold me back, again?” And then sometimes it gets meta and what you shed isn’t a single “thing” insomuch as it is the entire infrastructure of false negativity: the “Fear Of.”