In 2024, I spent a considerable amount of time driving through the Muskoka region in my minivan. I wasn’t particularly interested in getting anywhere. I needed somewhere to think, and the winding roads, small towns, and stretches of countryside provided the space to have some long-overdue conversations with myself.
Life had taken a few turns I hadn’t anticipated: a long relationship had gone badly, my enthusiasm for my real estate business was fading, and I was struggling to understand what had happened to the person I remembered being.
There had been a time when I approached life with tremendous energy, curiosity, and ambition. Between 2011 and 2017, particularly, I’d felt a sense of purpose and enthusiasm that seemed to carry me through whatever came along. Somewhere in the years that followed, that fire had begun to fade. I kept wondering when and where I’d gone off the tracks.
Looking back, I realize I’d spent years moving forward without noticing how much of myself I was leaving behind. I’d entered real estate during a transitional period in my personal life without fully appreciating how much turmoil I was carrying with me. By 2023, my thoughts had become increasingly negative, my direction uncertain, and the road ahead seemed permanently covered in fog. Nonetheless, I kept my foot on the gas, hoping I’d eventually find some clarity, but driving farther wasn’t getting me any closer to understanding where I’d lost my way.
Eventually, I had to accept that some things in my life weren’t working, and that continuing along the same path wasn’t going to change them. I couldn’t undo the past or recover the years that had gone by, but I could acknowledge where I was and begin making different choices about where I wanted to go.
What I wanted, more than anything, was to unburden myself.
Not just of the emotional weight I’d been carrying, but of all the things I’d accumulated that no longer contributed anything meaningful to my life. And somewhere along those drives, sitting behind the wheel of my minivan, I began entertaining a rather unusual question.
If I had to start my life over tomorrow, what would I actually need?
Four Ordinary Plastic Bins
I thought about the things I owned: most could be replaced easily enough, often for very little money. But some things couldn’t be replaced because they carried meaning or value that had little to do with what they cost. Those were the things I’d want to preserve.
I started imagining how much space I’d need to carry them, and eventually arrived at an answer that seemed almost absurdly simple: four ordinary plastic storage bins. Yup, that’s it.
I could put them in my minivan, drive somewhere new, and begin again. Whatever else I needed could be acquired as circumstances required.
It was a practical thought that gradually developed into something more meaningful. I began thinking about the difference between what enriches our lives and what simply occupies space; about how easily we become attached to possessions, habits, expectations, and ways of thinking that may no longer serve us particularly well. It wasn’t long before I would simply refer to all these thoughts and ideas as “Four Bins,” a guiding principle for how I wanted to approach the next chapter of my life.
Living More With Less
I’ve always been attracted to the idea of minimalism, although I’ve never considered it an exercise in deprivation. I enjoy good things, interesting places, memorable experiences, and the occasional purchase that probably wasn’t strictly necessary.
For me, living more with less is about being selective. Letting go of things can also mean reconsidering beliefs we’ve held for years, expectations we’ve placed upon ourselves, or commitments that no longer make sense. Some of the heaviest things we carry don’t occupy any physical space at all. It’s about valuing quality over quantity, substance over appearance, and the freedom to make choices without being weighed down by everything we’ve accumulated.
Of course, the four bins aren’t meant to be taken literally by everyone. We all have different lives, responsibilities, and circumstances. What matters to one person may have little significance to another. I also believe the contents of those bins should not remain the same forever. As we grow, learn, and experience new things, our understanding of what’s important changes.
What’s at the core of Four Bins?
To know what matters, make the most of what we have, and let go of what no longer serves us.
The Things We Forget We Have
Over a lifetime, we accumulate far more than possessions.
Throughout our lives, we devote considerable time, energy, patience, creativity, and often a great deal of love to the things that matter to us. Along the way, we develop skills, build relationships, solve problems, pursue opportunities, make mistakes, and learn lessons that shape who we become.
Yet it’s remarkable how much of that accumulated experience gets buried or forgotten. Something we learned twenty years ago might help us resolve a problem today; a skill developed in one industry might prove useful in another; an unsuccessful venture might provide exactly the insight needed to avoid repeating a mistake.
This became another important dimension of Four Bins.
I began thinking of the bins as places to preserve the best of everything I’d accumulated throughout my life: the knowledge, experiences, relationships, values, and lessons that deserved to come with me, regardless of where life might take me next.
And the wonderful thing about those bins is that they’re meant to be opened. After all, there’s little purpose in preserving something valuable if we never find a way to put it to good use.
When I encounter something unfamiliar, I can reach back into what I’ve learned, reconsider an old idea, draw upon an experience, or recognize a connection between things that initially seem unrelated.
Living with “less” doesn’t mean having less to offer.
Knowing how to make use of what we’ve already accumulated may be one of the most valuable abilities we can develop. The objective is to recognize the best of what we’ve accumulated and make it count. Everything else deserves a closer look.
Knowing When to Ask for Help
Four Bins gave me a guiding principle, but it didn’t resolve everything I was struggling with. I eventually began working with a therapist because I needed someone who could help me examine what had happened, challenge some of my thinking, and begin making sense of things I hadn’t been able to untangle on my own.
I’d spent years priding myself on being independent, resourceful, and capable of figuring things out, yet here I was, confronting a situation where those qualities alone weren’t enough.
I needed another perspective.
That experience reinforced something I’ve come to recognize in business as well. Even capable, experienced people can reach a point where they need help making sense of their circumstances.
Business owners pour enormous amounts of themselves into what they build. Along the way, they accumulate knowledge, relationships, resources, habits, and ways of doing things. Some remain valuable long after they’ve been established. Others may have outlived their usefulness. And valuable experience or resources can become overlooked simply because they’re so familiar.
Being close to something can make it difficult to see it clearly.
Problems become familiar. Assumptions go unquestioned. Decisions get postponed. We become so occupied with keeping things moving that we lose sight of where we’re actually going.
So, what does any of this have to do with consulting?
Quite a lot, actually.
Four Bins influences how I approach my work through MAximus. When someone brings me a business challenge, I want to understand the circumstances as they really are, recognize the knowledge and resources already available, and determine what deserves attention. That includes questioning assumptions, identifying what’s worth preserving, and considering what may need to change.
My own professional experience also comes into play. The knowledge and lessons I’ve accumulated through publishing, entrepreneurship, sales, communications, real estate, and business development are resources I can draw upon when confronting unfamiliar situations. And when a challenge calls for expertise beyond my own, I know the value of bringing in someone who has it.
I don’t believe every problem requires an entirely new solution. Sometimes the most valuable starting point is understanding what we already have — what matters — and making better use of it.
That’s where Four Bins and MAXIMUS come together. The philosophy encourages me to look carefully at what’s in front of me, draw upon what’s worth keeping, and help people make informed decisions about what comes next.
What Deserves to Come With You?
The world isn’t becoming any less complicated. Technology is changing how we work, information is coming at us from every direction, and uncertainty seems to have become a permanent feature of modern life.
I believe there’s tremendous opportunity in those changes, particularly in what artificial intelligence and other emerging technologies may allow us to accomplish. But greater capability shouldn’t come at the expense of independent judgement, personal responsibility, meaningful relationships, or our ability to question what we’re being told.
Those are among the things worth preserving.
Four Bins reminds me that we don’t have to carry everything forward simply because it has always been part of our lives. We can question what we’ve accumulated, reconsider what we value, and make room for new experiences without abandoning the lessons that brought us this far.
It also reminds me that what we’ve preserved is meant to be used — to improve things, solve problems, seek truth, help others, and make whatever contribution we’re capable of making.
Let’s be honest here: I still have plenty to learn, and I expect I’ll collect a few more things along the way. Some will be worth keeping; others won’t. The trick is knowing the difference, and perhaps that’s something we never entirely master. Our circumstances change, our understanding evolves, and what matters today may not carry the same importance tomorrow.
Four Bins has taught me to approach those changes with four principles in mind: ACCEPT what is, PRESERVE what matters, USE what you’ve learned, and LET GO of what no longer serves you.
I don’t believe these principles offer all the answers. But they encourage us to ask better questions, exercise our own judgment, and make more deliberate choices about the lives we lead.
And perhaps that’s where we begin to discover what really matters.