The Hidden Psychology of How We Keep Things

There are moments when a familiar memory suddenly brings a new perspective. Recently I was reminded of an old blog of mine - How My FIL’sPortfolio Discipline Became His Legacy - where I had written about my father-in-law’s meticulous approach to managing his financial investments. The more I reflected on it, the more I realised that his portfolio discipline was only one part of a much larger picture. His entire life was organised, not just his finances.

Every physical item he owned had a designated place. Whether it was a book, a tool, a pen, or an old document, he knew exactly where to find it. He never searched, he simply retrieved. And this wasn’t limited to the material world. His memory mirrored that same clarity. He could effortlessly recall the smallest details - dates, names, conversations from decades ago - with surprising accuracy.

This made me wonder: Is there a connection between how someone arranges their thoughts and how they arrange their physical belongings?

The more I observe people around me, including myself, the more I feel there is a connection. Individuals who think in a structured, systematic manner tend to carry that approach into their surroundings. They don’t like clutter, whether on their table or in their mind. They prefer closure, clarity, and order. If something is kept outside its usual place, they instinctively correct it, not because of compulsion, but because it aligns with how their mind operates. And this very habit makes recall almost automatic; when everything has a home, retrieval becomes effortless.

On the other hand, people who often find their thoughts scattered, unfinished tasks, pending decisions, unresolved emotions, tend to surround themselves with physical disorder as well. The room mirrors the mind. Drawers become a reflection of unresolved plans. A desk becomes a metaphor for priorities jumbled together.

Imagine if one consciously began organising the external environment, the workspace, the cupboard, the digital files. Would the mind slowly learn to follow? Or perhaps the change must happen the other way, begin by organising internal thoughts and discipline will naturally express itself in the physical world. Either way, the two appear deeply interconnected.

The encouraging part is that this is not an inherited trait reserved for a chosen few. It is a practice, one that anyone can build. A small, consistent “change of mind” can dramatically transform not only how one thinks, but also how one lives. It is, therefore, entirely reasonable to conclude that the way we keep things around us is a strong indicator of how our mind works, and with deliberate effort, both can improve together.

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