the hidden reason you can't relax in your bedroom (or at all)
It’s not your mattress or your sleep routine. It’s what’s staring back at you from every surface. Ancient Japanese wisdom can cure this issue.
George Eliot once wrote, “If we had a keen vision of all that is ordinary in life, it would be like hearing the grass grow.” Our bedrooms are ordinary places we pass through every day — and silently, slowly, surreptitiously… they shape our nervous system. Far more than we notice. A cluttered room hums with static. You can just tell that it’s LOUD in there. A quiet one, on the contrary, is breathing. You can hear that, too. And it makes sense — it has room to breathe.
Now why is a room that’s breathing important for you?
There are a few reasons:
Visual clutter = mental clutter. When your eyes are bombarded with too many objects, your brain works overtime to process it. A pared-back space gives the mind permission to rest.
Clutter often carries emotional weight—unfinished tasks, old attachments, guilt. A decluttered space releases that burden, making room for calm and lightness.
If you’re on this Earth, your life is probably chaotic, like all lives are. An un-messy bedroom can stabilize you even during general instability. Having one room that feels orderly can restore a sense of agency. It’s all about creating an environment where you feel supported instead of overwhelmed.
Breathing room for you!
There is no flex here
I have literally never been a tidy person — I’m always hyperactive, always have too much going on, always have too little time and too much to do. I have too many ideas, too many passions, too many things. I also indulge in retail therapy — buying makes me feel better. So I am 100% not out here joining the club of people who look down on others for not being able to be so tidy as them. That’s just self-righteous obnoxiousness — and worse than an uncluttered bedroom. I am simply here to share that it is worth making some space in your bedroom — so that it can help you, as it’s helped me.
Moving to a smaller apartment made me adapt Japanese philosophy of space
Last year, I moved to a one-bedroom apartment — it’s super cute, in a brand-new building with tons of amenities, and there are only 30 apartments in the whole complex so it’s a tight community. But it’s a very small place compared to my previous apartment. But I actually loved that about it. I now had a reason to get rid of everything.
Last year, I got rid of 75% of every I owned. And it felt like 75% of all my stress left my body. It was a glorious feat. It took me 6 months to get to a baseline — and now, everything I have in my apartment is exactly what I need. I didn’t realize I was doing this — but I was on my way, for the first time, to become somewhat of a minimalist! With Marie Kondo’s blessing, I have only kept the things that sparked joy for me — and donated everything else to Goodwill, with a good will.
Thanks to the unflinchingly rigid theory of entropy, my apartment fills up with things all the time, and every time, I just have to reset the balance. And it’s become an obsession now.
So did countless other pieces of Japanese wisdom. Japanese culture fosters a deep connection between uncluttered, minimalist spaces and a tranquil, functional lifestyle. That’s where Zen Buddhism and Marie Kondo hail from.
In keeping with the slow philosophy, I will start small and share everything I learned about how to create calm in our bedroom — with philosophy, art, as well as the occasional pop culture as guides.
1. Clear just one surface and keep just one thing on it
Thoreau warned, “Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify.” A crowded nightstand or dresser, too, fritters away your peace. The Japanese ink painting uses the white space as its ink more than the actually ink.
Clear one surface tonight. Put back just one object that sparks joy — a lamp, a book, a candle. Notice how the room exhales. And don’t forget to exhale with it.
2. Leave space for ma and leave it totally blank
The Japanese concept of Ma means gap, pause, or space — it’s the interval that makes form possible. And it’s absolutely essential. A blank wall, an empty corner, an bare stretch of dresser: these pauses are what allow a room to breathe. Without them, the room suffocates — and so do you.
Choose one wall, shelf, or corner and let it stay completely blank for a week. The first time I did that, that silence that took over… felt taking a melatonin.
3. Remove “work” from bedroom
Every object whispers and demands: dust me, fold me, fix me — pick me, choose me, love me — as if it’s Meredith Grey…
Even if you ignore it — it’s still a stimulus. Gaston Bachelard wrote in The Poetics of Space, “The house shelters daydreaming… the house allows one to dream in peace.” But clutter blocks the dreamer.
Take a basket and remove anything that feels like work, anything that’s asking something of you — laundry, unopened mail, gadgets. Just get that out of your bedroom. Give the dreamer in you some space to breathe. The results should lighten your shoulders immediately.
4. Choose your main characters using the danshari method
In The Great Gatsby, the mansion overflows with silk, wine, and gold — yet no one inhabits it. It’s just Gatsby. Abundance without intimacy is another kind of emptiness — and not the good kind of emptiness I’ve been preaching about either. That empty mansion spoke volumes — all that gold, yet lonely, as lonely as Mr. Gatsby. And if a witch like Daisy were to join him, would it have really changed a thing?
In Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation, based in Tokyo, the sparse hotel rooms — one bed, one chair, one suitcase — become vessels for connection. The absence of clutter creates presence, without which, Scarlett Johansson and Bill Murray’s characters wouldn’t find themselves.
To create true intimacy, let a few objects stand out — but choose the objects wisely. They must be meaningful objects, ones that when you hold and bring to your heart, sparks joy. Like people, things have energy. Like people, things can also be wrong for you.
The danshari method is a Japanese approach to decluttering. It uses three principles: dan (refuse), she (dispose), and ri (separate).
Walk into your room and pick three objects you’d want a guest to notice first (after you check its vibes). Let those be the stars in your whole bedroom. Rotate or store the rest.
Bonus Tip: On any surface, allow only three objects at most. A lamp, a plant, and a book are enough.
5. Embrace wabi-sabi
This is a great guide for what to decorate your bedroom. The Japanese idea of wabi-sabi tells us incompleteness and imperfection can be beautiful — so when picking an item, don’t be afraid of: a chipped mug, a frayed blanket, a uniquely designed fruit basket — the edgy appeal makes them alive and stand out.
Good thing is, they only shine when not drowned in excess. So this gives you another reason to not create clutter. Let one imperfect object remain on a cleared surface. Make sure it’s meaningful to you. Give it room to matter.
Use The Slow Philosophy and start small
If George Eliot was right that a keen vision of the ordinary can feel like hearing the grass grow, then a bedroom that breathes is proof of it. It’s time to create a space that steadies us when the rest of life spins. Make a little room for silence, and the silence will make a little more room inside you.
This is yet another step to fight overwhelm — which comes from believing we must fix everything at once. As Daoism says, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” It takes time to build the image. The Slow Philosophy asks you to begin with one surface, one corner, one pause. Then move to the next. The whole point is not another chore — but finding relief in your space. Start slow, and you’ll have moved mountains before you realize it.
