I was sitting in my “Mind, Body, Spirit” class this past week, and during the class, my professor asked me a question.
At first, it seemed simple, but when I thought about it, I went straight back to all the moments where I felt stuck or overwhelmed. Every single time, my instinct was the same: add more. Add a new habit, add more tasks, add another goal, add another commitment, add another attempt at “fixing” myself.
Looking back, I used to write to-do lists that looked like novels. I’d go on shopping sprees because I thought a new wardrobe meant a new personality. I would get urges to cut my hair dramatically or dye it and become someone new. I’d apply to multiple roles, plan spontaneous trips, research every possible habit, decide I’d start taking ten supplements a day, go to the gym daily, launch a business, overhaul my routine, journal at sunrise, meditate at night… everything.
When I explained this to my professor, he asked me a straightforward question: “Did it work?” I didn’t have an answer. Then he told me the idea of subtraction. Not to be lazy or to give up, but a strategy to grow. He asked, “When you add something new, do you ever subtract anything? Or do you keep adding until you drown in your own expectations?” That question stayed with me, because if I’m being honest, I never subtract.
But it’s human nature to add, even if subtraction is the real solution. Diving deeper, I did some light research. One study had participants try to stabilize a wobbly LEGO structure. The easiest solution was to remove a singular piece, and it would be stable. However, almost everyone added more to stabilize the structure. This can be seen in our own lives, as we want a more balanced, stable life. Overwhelmed? Then add a planner. Unfulfilled? Then add more commitments. Feel behind? Then add more goals. We rarely think to remove things or redirect our attention.
Subtraction feels unnatural because we fear that having “less” means we’re not doing enough. But ironically, less is often what finally gives us room to breathe. For instance, most people initially think that meditation is an additive strategy because it’s physically added to their routine. However, it’s subtractive, as you remove stimulus, noise, and continuous input to gain clarity. Decluttering spaces can reduce visual tension, and saying no can lessen the burden of overlapping responsibilities, even the act of saying no. Letting people go can remove emotional weight that may be holding you back. These aren’t losses: they’re all forms of clearing space.
What comforts me is that this idea isn’t new. Humans have explored “less is more” for centuries. Diogenes, a Greek philosopher, lived with almost nothing and believed that true freedom came from subtracting artificial needs. Even today, minimalism and Marie Kondo’s “sparks joy” philosophy echo the same truth. And growing up Japanese, I saw it in Zen culture without even realizing it. Zen monks live with only essentials: plain robes, a sleeping mat, and a single bowl. Their spaces are almost empty on purpose because emptiness creates room for clarity, stillness, and presence. It’s not about deprivation: it’s about intention.
Here’s what I’ve learned: improving your life doesn’t always mean doing more. Why don’t you need more discipline? You probably need fewer distractions. You don’t need more routines, you need fewer energy-draining tasks. You don’t need more motivation, you need fewer barriers standing in the way. You don’t need to reinvent yourself, you need to peel back the layers that bury who you already are.
Grow isn’t always about addition. Sometimes the fundamental transformation happens when you choose to do less with more intention. When you subtract the noise, the clutter, the pressure, the comparisons, and the endless obligations, you uncover the version of yourself that was there all along. Less doesn’t mean missing out: it means finally making space for what matters.
Subtract a little and watch how much more your life begins to feel like your own.