“Rule your mind,,,,, Otherwise, it will rule you. ” ~Buddha
I used to be trapped in overthinking, replaying past mistakes, worrying about the future and keeping all my thoughts spiritually, just like I physically grabbing old clothes, books, and children’s toys.
Overwhelming fear of letting go (whether it is a physical object or a continuous thought). But I didn’t realize that this habit of psychological accumulation caused me to fall into my original place.
Anxiety to let go–My last day of school
My earliest experience of psychological accumulation occurred on the last day of school before my tenth grade exam in 1996. When my class teacher wanted us “all the best, kids for your board exam”, I suddenly realized that it was my last day at school. This idea never thought about my thoughts, which shocked me.
I spent over a decade there (i.e., twelve or twelve years) and every moment I was with my friends grew up, laughing, learning, crying, sharing Tiffans. I will never go back to that life’s thoughts leave me feeling anxious and sad overwhelmed.
When I got home that day, I couldn’t have lunch and couldn’t sleep well. I clutched the pillow tightly as if I could stop the time from moving forward. I’ve been replaying all the moments, all the memories. I run and play the playground, the faucet I used to drink water from the table I sit every day, and I nervously write down the answers to the blackboard. But what really disturbed me was that I would never see some of my friends again.
At that time, there was no Facebook or Instagram to stay in touch. If you missed a day at school, you have to personally ask someone what happened, what they did on the weekend and what their summer vacation is like. Schools are the only way to stay in touch. I feel like I’m losing a part of myself.
I missed the evening’s Taekwondo practice. I didn’t even have the energy to have supper. I just went to bed, but my mind was uneasy and whirled.
The next morning, I woke up at 3 a.m. and I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to run. So I dragged myself to the stadium where I used to train. I ran with all my might, punching and kicking into the air, and screaming.
Sweat soaked my body, but I was not tired. Instead, I felt nervous to get my body away. As I sat on the ground and watched the first light of the sunrise, I realized that time would not stop anyone. Each ending is a new beginning.
This is the first time I really understand the power of movement and mindfulness to release emotional luggage. I’ve been hoarding memories, but by interacting with my emotions (by running, punching holes and embracing the new day), I let go of the stiffness in my mind.
This is my first lesson when I was fifteen: Sometimes, the most difficult farewell brings the lightest heart.
Unresolved issues–Learn to let go
In 2002, I faced another instance of psychological hoc accumulation, but this time it was about unresolved issues and emotional attachment.
A girl I went to school was more than just a friend. After school, we lost contact – at that time there was no cell phone or social media. In five to six years, I never thought about pursuing others and always wondered what she would think if I did. Her presence lingers in my mind, preventing me from moving forward.
Finally, in 2002, after seven years of long periods, I went to the school where she worked as a teacher. A function happened that day, and in the crowd, I gathered the courage to propose to her.
Tears filled her eyes as if she had been waiting for that moment, but she neither said yes nor was it. Instead, she said three lines, turned around and left, leaving. I stood there, unable to move, as if my feet were stuck on the ground. It feels like part of me being left behind.
For a few days, I was unable to focus on my studies. My thoughts replay these three lines over and over again, looking for answers that do not exist.
One day, while fighting my thoughts, I hit a tennis ball and hit a wall in frustration. In the rage, I hit it and it rebounded faster than I expected. I jumped high to grab it, but when I landed, I felt a severe pain – a fractured hairline in my right foot. The doctor put my legs in the actors and forty-five days, I was confined to my home.
During that time, I had no choice but to sit. Nothing else to do, I turned my focus entirely to my CA-Inter exam study. As I was immersed in my studies, I noticed something-the memories of that day no longer bothered me. Without realizing this, I’ve stopped looking for answers. I quickly took the exam after my actor was deleted and successfully passed.
At the age of twenty-two or twenty-three, I learned a profound lesson: some questions have no answers, and the more we chase them, the more they consume us. The key is to stop looking for meaning and moving forward at every unresolved moment.
The power of letting go
A turning point emerged during my nine to five jobs in my company. I feel like a bird in a cage, flying eagerly, but uncertainty hinders it. I wanted to quit and start my own business, but I spent two years horrifying mentally.
What if I fail? What about my financial responsibility to my wife and three-year-old son? The constant cycle of constant thinking paralyzes me. I finally got free when I quit in September 2012 and became a sub-broker in the stock market. Letting go of fear is liberating. I no longer need to respond to anyone, and I have the freedom I have always dreamed about.
This experience tells me that, like physical chaos, mental disorder puts us in trouble.
Another powerful realization came to me when my son insisted on buying a 55-inch smart TV. I’ve been holding my old CRT TV and it was the first thing I bought on income in January 2006. It’s not just electrical appliances, it’s a symbol of my early struggles and achievements.
I remember how I went to Shimla to work in a friend’s car and excitedly bought it along the way. Although it’s outdated, it still works, and I hold on to it, not because of its utility, but because of the memory it comes with. Letting go feels like erasing part of my journey.
But in November 2020, I finally handed it over to someone in need and welcomed the new TV. It wasn’t until then that I realized that new opportunities, new opportunities, and new ways of thinking were not accessible unless you were at home or in your space or in your mind. This course goes beyond property; it applies to the limitations of thought, regret and self-imposed.
Regret is a waste of time–Lessons from professional life
I started investing and trading since 2009. At that time, I bought stocks that traded with two numbers and sold them after holding for a few days or months of profit. Ten years later, some of these stocks traded in four numbers, and the idea of what I could have been able to get was painful. “What if I stick to them?” bothered me.
But then, I reflected and realized that every decision I made (whether it was a deal) was mine based on the conditions at that time. Just as some stocks have grown enormously, other stocks that once traded with four numbers have completely lost their value. I have calls to my clients every day and regret the missed opportunity. They saw lower-level stocks, hesitated, and later saw it jumped 25% or more. The cycle of regret is endless.
Over time, I have trained myself to stop overthinking past transactions. Now, I only focus on current transactions, whether it is making money or losing. If there is a chance today, I will take action without hesitation rather than live on the missed opportunity.
This experience taught me an important lesson: If we can’t change our past decisions, then regretting them is useless. Instead, we should focus on what we can do now.
The biggest lesson–Accept the impermanence of life
The biggest lesson I learned comes from an unexpected place that I never thought would have such an impact. In the northern part of India, especially in Punjab where I live, there is a festival called Basant Panchami, which is full of joy and enthusiasm for celebration. It usually falls in January, and one of the key traditions is flying kites.
In 2018, the music festival was on January 22, the day before, my brother and I went to the market to buy kites and strings. We both have been passionate about kites since we were young, and that day we were very excited, full of laughter and excitement. Just like we have been doing years, we spent the whole morning playing music, dancing and flying kites.
But I don’t know, what I can never predict is that that day was the last time I experienced this with my brother. In June 2018, my brother left the world and that was the moment when I fully grasped the weight I lost.
From that day until the Basant Festival in 2025, I kept the 19 kites we bought that day and couldn’t drive them because they reminded me of him. It felt like I ran away from those kites and I somehow let go of his only remaining piece. Every year, with the arrival of the Spring Festival, I will hold on to those kites and keep the memories of the day we spent together.
But this year some changes. At the 2025 Basant Festival, I finally let it go. I flew those nineteen kites. As they soared in the sky, I realized we had bought those kites to celebrate and enjoy life, and my brother wanted me to do the same.
Sticking to them, keeping them safe is just a way to avoid the truth: life keeps going, and sometimes the closer you stick to something, the more you lose in the process. It reminds me that life must be full of openness and acceptance, just like the sand you hold on to.
This awareness shocked me: life is like a train. We were all passengers on that train, and eventually, when each passenger arrived, each passenger left while the others continued to travel. Every creature on Earth will disappear for a day. Sticking to the past, memories, “ifs whats”, only makes us feel frustrated.
I’ve hoarded my thoughts and emotions for so long, thinking I can protect them and keep them safe. But through the behavior of ultimately driving these kites, this lesson made me realize how to overthink destructively.
It’s time to stop accumulating my memories and emotions. Life keeps moving forward and is too closely going until what is happening, only preventing me from enjoying the present.
I learned that it is OK to let go, get rid of overthinking and accept what is going on now. Like a kite in the sky, my brother’s memories will always be with me, but I have to live fully without worrying about letting go.
The lesson I have learned is simple and profound: Don’t stop hoarding your thoughts, get rid of overthinking, and let yourself truly live. Life is moving forward, so must we.
The final thought
It is possible to get rid of mental disorder. Once I got rid of the idea of not serving me anymore, I provided room for clarity, courage and growth. Just like my career transition, I realized that the only way to really move forward is to stop hoarding and start living.
About Man Singer
Mann Singh is a versatile writer and entrepreneur who is passionate about inspiration, healing and fascinating storytelling. He writes across genres – from romantic and marital dramas to crime thrillers and psychological mysteries. His published works include together, but alone, a murder without a corpse, and the endgame of deceiving on the Kindle. When not writing, he explores a mindful life and shares life lessons drawn from personal transformation, resilience, and emotional insights. Visit his Amazon page here.
