What Would You Do if You Lost All Your Possessions?

This isn’t just a random thought; I actually experienced this, but had I reflected on it beforehand… Maybe I would have been able to process loss differently..

When Hurricane Helene hit, I lost my home — and with it, nearly everything I owned.
Furniture, clothes, keepsakes, the small comforts that made up “normal life” — all gone in a matter of hours. I remember standing in the aftermath, staring at the water line on the walls, realizing how quickly the physical pieces of life can be swept away.

At first, it was devastating. Every item felt like a reminder of years of work, of moments tied to meaning. But as the days passed, I found myself asking questions I had never considered before:

• What do I actually need to rebuild my life?
• Which possessions did I miss most — and which ones, surprisingly, didn’t matter at all?
• How do you hold onto a sense of self when the “things” you’ve surrounded yourself with disappear?

The Shock of Losing Everything

When disaster strikes, the loss isn’t just financial — it’s emotional. We don’t just lose couches and clothes; we lose the sense of stability, the comfort of routines, and the pieces of our identity we’ve attached to material things. For me, it was photos and keepsakes that hit hardest. The furniture could be replaced, but the memories felt more fragile.

And yet, standing in the wreckage, I also realized something: what remained was me. My relationships, my resilience, my ability to choose what came next.

What Really Matters (and What Doesn’t)

When everything is gone, clarity sets in fast. Suddenly, the clothes I never wore or the gadgets I thought I needed didn’t matter at all. What I missed most were the essentials — a bed to rest on, clothes that felt like “me,” and a sense of safety in my space.

More than that, I realized how valuable community was. Friends showing up. Strangers offering help. The sense that even without possessions, I wasn’t without support.

Rebuilding with Intention

Losing everything forced me to make intentional choices. Every item I brought back into my life had to earn its place. Do I really need this, or am I just filling space? Does this bring comfort, or is it just clutter?

There’s a strange kind of freedom in starting over. While I wouldn’t wish the loss on anyone, I can say it gave me a chance to rebuild a life that felt more aligned with who I am now — not just who I was when I bought those things years ago.

Asking Yourself the Question

So I’ll ask you: What would you do if you lost all your possessions?

Would you grieve what was gone, or find relief in a blank slate? Would you replace things exactly as they were, or would you take the chance to create something new?

It’s not just a question about disaster — it’s a question about values. About what really makes up a life.

My Takeaway

The flood taught me that possessions are temporary. They can be destroyed, replaced, forgotten. But presence, connection, and courage — those are lasting.

We spend so much of our lives chasing and collecting, but in the end, the things that matter most aren’t things at all.

So, if you woke up tomorrow and lost everything, what would remain? And maybe more importantly, what would you choose to carry forward?