Less Stuff, More Joy: Winnie the Pooh and the "One Bag Life of a Mental Health Warrior"
- Bruce Schutter
- Feb 17
- 6 min read
Updated: Jun 28
It was a sunny afternoon downtown, and I was wandering aimlessly, enjoying the rare quiet of the city, when I spotted Winnie the Pooh sitting on a bench outside the bakery. He wasn’t his usual honey-loving, carefree self. His shoulders slumped, and he looked like he’d just lost his last jar of honey.
Concerned, I made my way over. “Pooh, you okay?” I asked. He let out a deep sigh. “Oh, Bruce, I don’t understand it. There’s no Heffalumps chasing me, no big challenges, no lost honey pots. I’m moving forward, but I feel... sad. Depressed even. It’s like something’s missing, and I don’t know what.”
His words hit me like a ton of bricks because I knew exactly what he meant. “Pooh,” I began, “you’re describing something I know all too well. Let me tell you a story.”
The Journey to Values
I shared with Pooh how for 20 years, Bipolar, Alcoholism, Anxiety Disorders and PTSD ran the show. On the outside, it looked like I had it all—a steady job, a nice home, and plenty of gadgets to fill the hours. But on the inside? I was miserable!
I constantly fell into depression, feeling powerless and stuck. It all culminated in a dark moment when I tried to end my life. “But then I got a second chance,” I said. “And I realized something life-changing: mental health is the key to overcoming any challenge in life.
With that knowledge, I created the Mental Health Warrior Program—a bold new SELF-HELP approach—designed to put YOU in charge!
So, you can take charge of your emotions, triumph over challenges and build the life you really want!
And a core part of becoming a Mental Health Warrior is identifying your VALUES.”
Pooh tilted his head. “Values? Like the things I love most? Honey? Naps?”
I smiled. “Sort of. But it’s deeper than that. Values aren’t just what we like—they’re what guide us. They shape how we want to live and what truly matters to us.
If we don’t know our values, we might move forward… but in the wrong direction. And that can leave us feeling lost.”
Pooh nodded, his ears perking up slightly. “So how do I figure out my values?”
The One Bag Life of a Mental Health Warrior
I told Pooh about my book, The One Bag Life of a Mental Health Warrior.
The concept is simple—but powerful: What if everything that truly brought you joy could fit into one bag? It’s not about owning less—it’s about focusing on what truly matters: experiences over stuff.
“Living this way helped me align my actions with my values and triumph over life’s challenges,” I said. “Let me give you three examples from my own journey—and how embracing this mindset has brought me greater joy in each day.”
Example 1: Less Stuff, Less Anxiety
“First,” I said, “needing less stuff really helped me with my anxiety disorders. I used to constantly chase the next upgrade—better gadgets, more clothes, a newer car, even smarter kitchen appliances. I thought if I just had the right things, I’d finally feel okay.”
Pooh’s eyes widened. “Like... a self-honey-filling jar?”
“Exactly,” I laughed. “But it turns out, more stuff just created more stress. I was always worried about affording it, maintaining it, organizing it, or losing it. It was like trying to calm my mind by juggling more.”
Pooh tilted his head. “That does sound like a lot of buzzing upstairs.”
“Right,” I said. “But when I started asking, what actually matters to me?—I realized that 90% of the stuff I was chasing didn’t bring joy or peace. So I started letting it go. I simplified. And that cleared not just my home, but my head.”
Pooh's Takeaway:
Pooh scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose I do have a lot of empty honey pots lying around. Maybe I could let go of some. It might help me feel less cluttered... and worried about when they’ll be full again.”
“Exactly,” I said. “A clean space can calm a busy mind. And letting go of what you don’t need makes room for what actually matters.”
Example 2: The Value of Connection
“Second,” I continued, “I’ve learned to prioritize connection over consumption. I used to isolate myself—hid behind closed doors, ignored phone calls, drowned my loneliness in alcohol. I convinced myself I didn’t need anyone. But the truth? I was aching for connection.”
Pooh’s ears drooped a little. “Oh bother. I sometimes sit alone too, just thinking about honey. But it doesn’t always feel good.”
I nodded. “It’s easy to confuse comfort with disconnection. But once I started opening up, reaching out, sharing time and real conversation with people who cared about me—something shifted. That hole inside me that I used to try to fill with stuff or substances? It started filling with the joy of real connection.”
Pooh's Takeaway:
Pooh’s face lit up. “You know, I could spend more time visiting my friends instead of sitting alone, thinking about honey. Maybe we could go on more adventures together.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “A shared moment—especially with someone who sees and supports you—is more nourishing than any snack or screen or shiny object. You don’t need more stuff to feel alive—you need more you in your life.”
Example 3: Experiences Over Things
“Third,” I said, “focusing on experiences has been a game-changer in managing my Bipolar Disorder. I used to spend hours organizing, cleaning, or chasing the next shiny thing—and it left me exhausted and emotionally scattered.
Now, I invest my energy in meaningful experiences—like a walk in the woods, a shared laugh, or helping someone else feel seen.
That keeps me emotionally centered, even on the days when Bipolar tries to throw me off course.”
Pooh's Takeaway:
Pooh’s eyes lit up. “Maybe I could take Piglet and Eeyore on a picnic instead of worrying about how many jars of honey I have. That would be an experience we’d all remember—even if there’s only one jar!”
I smiled. “Exactly. Experiences like that fill your emotional backpack. And those memories? They become anchors that help you feel grounded—even when life gets wobbly.”
Pooh’s Plan for a One Bag Life
Pooh’s ears twitched with excitement as he imagined how these ideas could help him and his friends. “So, less stuff, more connection, and lots of experiences,” he said, ticking them off on his fuzzy fingers. “I think I can do that.”
“I know you can,” I said, pulling a book out of my bag. “Here’s a copy of the One Bag Life of a Mental Health Warrior. Consider it an early gift.”
Pooh clutched the book like it was the most precious honey jar he’d ever held. “Thank you, Bruce! I’m going to read this tonight and start living my One Bag Life!”
Then he paused, thoughtful. “This could really help us feel less overwhelmed, couldn’t it? Sometimes I get so worried trying to keep track of everything—and I forget how nice it is to just sit with friends, or chase butterflies, or nap under a tree.”
I nodded. “Exactly. That’s the magic. Less clutter means less anxiety. More connection means more joy. And meaningful experiences give us memories that build emotional strength. It’s not about giving things up—it’s about gaining peace, purpose, and real happiness.”
Pooh beamed. “Well then,” he said, holding the book tightly, “I think this could be the beginning of something wonderful.”
Wrap Up
As we parted ways, I watched Pooh bounce off toward the Hundred Acre Wood, a spring in his step that hadn’t been there earlier. He was still carrying his grocery bag—but now it was accompanied by something far more powerful: Purpose.
For me, that moment was a beautiful reminder of why I created the Mental Health Warrior Program in the first place.
Life’s challenges don’t disappear. But when we align our actions with our values, simplify our lives, and focus on meaningful connection and experience—we build emotional strength that lasts. We stop surviving and start thriving!
Because a One Bag Life isn’t about what we lose—it’s about discovering how much joy we gain.
Bruce Schutter
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