I took the first step to living like a minimalist and it felt surprisingly unsatisfying

There's a difference between being organized and living tidy.

The former is a good quality to have, the latter is a lifestyle choice called minimalism, a practice that extols living with less possessions. I'm an organizer and always have been - but I'm also a pack rat, which is a minimalist's foil.

Minimalism is a visually-appealing - albeit mentally-perplexing - trend. While it feels good to have possessions and own things, minimalists say it feels even better to own very few things, all of which you need, not just want.

An extreme form of minimalism is sweeping Japan, where people following the guidance of figures like Marie Kondo, an organizing consultant and the author of two best-selling manifestos on minimalism, jettison the majority of their belongings and keep only the necessities.

Earlier this month, I tried my hand at a mild form of minimalism. I say mild because I didn't follow Kondo's precise rules of only keeping items that "spark joy," because frankly, my hair dryer doesn't spark joy, but it's practical. I figure I can work up to Kondo's high-level minimalism.

Still, I was more ruthless than I've ever been in going through my possessions and deciding what's truly worth keeping. I wanted to get a taste of this proverbial trend. And while Kondo and her books, in part, inspired me to consider minimalism, I in no way followed every step of her practice.

But what started as an enchantment with minimalism and an eagerness to hop on the bandwagon turned into a lesson in decluttering and minor shot to my ego. Here's the breakdown of my week-long experiment: