This is a work in progress: both the decluttering and this web page.
Tidying Up and Reducing My Clutter Using Marie Kondo's KonMari Method
I am trying to overhaul my possessions using the KonMari Method as described by Marie Kondo in The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing
Her theory states that you tidy your home in one long process; she says it might take six months, but you keep at it until you're done. You categorize all your stuff and then go through it category by category, in a specific order: clothes, books, papers, komono (miscellany: I will describe this better later, since I am drowning in komono), mementos. Look at the entire category, not the location where you've stored it. Do a category all at once; for example, if you've got clothes in several different locations, take them all out and pile them on the floor. Go through them and discard everything that doesn't spark joy. After discarding, fold things neatly and put them back. Store everything in a category in one place. Don't spread it out in different locations.
Did the phrase "spark joy" make your eyes roll? How about "life-changing magic"? I am a skeptic and an empiricist. I am not spiritual. I don't imbue objects with magical properties or feelings. Most of Marie's advice is brass tacks practical, but there's some hooey, too. For me, however, even the hooey had a vein of truth running through it. For example, as I was discarding, I followed her advice, which is to thank items for their service. I even tried to come up with specific reasons ("thank you for teaching me that I don't like to wear pink"). I don't think those items care or heard. But maybe the thank yous helped me let them go. As for the life-changing magic, Marie says that her client's lives change for the better after the process. That sounds plausible to me just because living on a pile of crap is no fun. So I'm hoping for life-changing magic. She also says that once you discard all your non-joy-sparking clothes, that you'll lose weight in your tummy area. Now that rings my skeptic bell, but boy, am I hoping that she is proven right! We'll see.
Day 1: My Underwear Drawer AKA The Pit of Despair
On my Day 1 (6/24/15), my first step was watching a video of Marie folding underwear. My underwear drawer is big and roomy (30" x 17" x 6 1/2"), but it was stuffed so full of underwear, socks, tights, bathing suits, and knit leggings that I had to drag it open (all the stuff was making it so full, it couldn't open) and shove things back down in order to close it. I couldn't find anything in it. It's been like this for years. Something had to change.
Marie has ONE CRITERIA for keeping a possession: does it "spark joy?" It is a freeing question, but also difficult to stick to 100%. If I only kept things that truly sparked joy, my house would be empty. (Maybe that's the point.) Unfortunately, I have to wear something. The goal would be to only wear clothes that make me feel good, but I'm probably not going to be able to get all the way there, especially at the start. Marie says to aim for perfection. I know that I am already missing the mark, but I think that as time goes by, if I keep her words in my head, I will get closer and closer.
Piling it all up made me realize just how much stuff I have. I already knew, but it was still depressing. As I picked up each item to consider whether it sparked joy, I had to pay attention to each item. My thick tights and my wool socks spark joy. Nothing else in my underwear drawer did, so it seemed like I should have tossed the whole thing. If Marie had been standing there with me, maybe I would have! I felt that I had to keep certain items because I wear them, and if I got rid of them, I'd have to replace them. While I actually couldn't dispose of everything that didn't spark joy, I discarded plenty.
Then I folded everything neatly and so that it would take up the vertical space in the drawer while also keeping everything
visible. Basically, you're stacking horizontally. Nothing is piled on top of each other. Once you're done, you can see everything that's in the drawer. And, best of all, you can keep it neat just
by folding each piece of laundry and putting it back into its spot. I ended up with several shoebox-sized empty holes and I was able to move some of my scarves into that drawer without hiding anything.
One more lesson learned: all the crap I have, that I don't even like!!! I resolved to get rid of the ten pairs of white socks that I don't like and replace them with four pairs of
admittedly much more expensive socks that I love: Balega Hidden Comfort Tab Running Sock
When you're holding something that should be discarded, but you can't bring yourself to do it, she advises that you ask yourself, "is this item an attachment to the past or a fear for the future?" This sentence hits my emotional bullseye. I'm always brooding over the past and/or I have a tendency to think, "when the apocalypse comes, I'll need these _______________." My past example from my underwear drawer was a thin cotton kimono-style robe that I used twenty years ago when I lived in a very hot, non-air conditioned environment. It was very useful at that time, which was both a joyful and a painful period of my life. I haven't worn that robe since, and it has lived in my drawer, taking up valuable space. I put it on, admitted that it didn't fit me (way too big), was not particularly attractive, obviously isn't very useful, and is one of the gazillion items around here that are attachments to my past. "Robe, thank you for giving me something to wear after the showers twenty years ago. I hope that someone else finds you useful." Discard.
This particular drawer was such a downer; my other drawers are models of organization compared to that drawer. And it only took me half an hour to go through it! Which begs the question: why did I wait so long?!?! A wide streak of passivity empowers my hoarding. It's like that bumper sticker: whoever dies with the most stuff wins. Obviously, at that point, I wouldn't care about winning. And while I'm alive, the stuff is oppressive. My house is an embarrassing mess. I can't find anything. What I lack is the motivation to examine each item and make decisions about it. It's easier to just ignore it, but once I started, I don't want to stop. So my first piece of advice for if you're stuck thinking about discarding and not doing it, is to start with a relatively small sub-category and stick to her method. The tiny little spark of success was motivating for me.
After the underwear, I got her book from the library. (If you can find The Art of Discarding by Nagisa Tatsumi, that's a book that inspired her. My library doesn't have it and I couldn't find it on Amazon. Somebody should translate it and/or make it available on Amazon. Or better yet at my library.) I read the whole thing, took notes, and planned my attack/journey. Immediately, I can sense my own resistance to her process. I start fantasizing about my komono (junk) and my mementos. These are the areas where I'll get the most bang for my buck, but . . . they're the hardest. Her order of discarding goes from easiest to hardest. All that practice at discarding is helpful when you get to that box of sentimental crap. Also, I want to commit to the whole process. I want to end up with a tidy house, where everything has a place (making it easy to keep it tidy -- after you use something, you put it back where it goes). So I need to finish my clothes. All my clothes. I have a few fairly neat drawers to go through, and I have a bucket full of gloves, and I have my closet. My drawers and my gloves are going to be fairly straightforward. The hardest part, however, will be that Marie wants me to get all my clothes out of my closet.
Days 2 - 9: Drawers Chock-Full of Crap . . . I Mean Jeans, Sweaters, and T-shirts
After reading the book, I know I need to finish my clothes. I should not skip around in the process. I genuinely want to do the whole thing -- I desperately need some life-changing magic.
First, I did another
easy drawer: my wool sweaters. I didn't discard many of them, because they truly do bring me joy. I rolled them up like sushi, which is another folding technique she uses, but now I think I might
roll them the horizontal stacked way. I think it will use less space and look neater. Here I go. Well, that might have been a waste of time, as you can see. They take up the same amount of space, so it
didn't really make much of a difference.
After the Sweaters Part 2, I worked on my two drawers of t-shirts. This was hard. Many of them do not spark joy, but they have a utilitarian purpose in my life. If Marie had been standing
there, I would have discarded many of them. With only my own willpower to guide me, I discarded ten or so. The reduction in number, plus the way her folding techniques conserve space, was
enough to combine my two drawers of t-shirts.
With that empty drawer to inspire me, I went through my shorts/capris/skirts drawer. It was practically empty already, and I discarded half of what was in there. The kept items went into my jeans drawer, which had plenty of space just because I folded my jeans her way (I didn't discard even one pair of jeans -- they all spark joy, even the ones I don't wear a lot). And so I ended up with TWO EMPTY DRAWERS. Crazy! Overall, from all my drawers, I probably discarded one kitchen trash bag full of stuff; the rest of the gained space was from conscientious folding.
So that is one lovely by-product of the folding: empty space. The second by-product is how I actually began to see my stuff. Everything is visible -- nothing can disappear into my drawers. I've already mentioned that I love my wool sweaters. Well, I never noticed how pilly some of them are. I never noticed spots on two of them. It's like I don't even see my clothes, but the careful folding made me stop and look at them. To notice if they need attention, or just to notice that I don't really have any attachment to them. And if I don't have much attachment, and I don't wear them, why am I keeping them? I think that's one of Marie's many points. But I'm digressing. Back to work?
I don't want to empty my closet. My hung-up clothes are packed onto one rod like cotton sardines. Marie would want me to take them all out. Look at each one. If it doesn't spark joy, discard it after thanking it for its service.
She advises to fold most things because folding conserves space; only hang up the things that should be hung in order to be happy, like a suit. Sigh. The closet is going to be difficult;
I don't want to get everything out. Why do I feel that way???? Is it just because it's a hassle? Or is it something else? I find myself resisting the step of bringing everything out and
piling it up. Which makes me suspect that I'm trying to avoid seeing how much I actually have. When it's all stuffed in the closet, and not organized, I can avoid the realization that I
have a ton of clothes, that I don't wear a lot of them, and that the vast majority of them don't spark any joy.
Just like Nike tells ya, just do it. The amount looks even more gynormous on my bed. (Note the attached tag on a blazer from Target; I found plenty of tags.
Marie says to take those tags off right when you get home. I have no idea why I usually don't. The sad truth is that I discarded items with tags.)
The first thing I notice is that I have
some sort of jones for 
specialized hangars: the ones that can hang scarves or belts or whatnot. None of them were doing me any favors and they do take up room, so I'm getting rid of them. I
still feel like a special belt hangar would help me, though. I have all my belts hanging from one regular wire hangar and that isn't optimal -- or is this the devil on my shoulder talking?
Hmm. Marie is anti-container and anti-storage; she would say "no way, Jose. Roll those belts up and put them in a drawer." Anyways, just getting rid of those hangars is helpful. (Only after
searching on Amazon for "belt hangar" did I realize that the circle hangar -- far right in the picture -- was for hanging belts. I was using it as a big loop for scarves and didn't even notice
that the loop isn't closed and belts can be threaded onto it. This is a great example of how I look at things but I don't see!!!!) In addition to getting rid of the other two specialized
hangars, I discarded
perhaps twenty items, which freezes up more space. I should have discarded even more, but I don't want to discard things that I wear. On the other hand, if I had ten separate outfits, I
could go two weeks without excessive repetition. Maybe that should be my goal: ten tops that I love and wear (hmm, I might
have that already. I wear jeans a lot to work, but I'd like to wear my dresses and skirts more often. I have plenty of all these items; I don't need any more. (Side note: walking back
and forth from the bed to the closet got some steps: yes, I'm a Fitbit
Here's the closet after. Clothes are organized, there's more room, but it doesn't look a lot different. I hope to maintain this orderliness and amount,
or to reduce even more. As time goes on, I plan to wear things and really assess them as I wear them: does this spark joy? For me and my clothes, that means, do I feel anything better
than presentable? Could I wear it to work or to an event and feel fairly comfortable/presentable? Postscript a few months later: as time goes by, it is easier to discard things. I have
so many clothes; I don't need to wear or keep items that I don't really like or need. I have discarded more, and I have purchased less, since reading her book.
I went through my bucket o' gloves and discarded/organized/consolidated into one place (well, two places). I have a hand numbness issue which means I wear gloves A LOT, so I do need a few pairs of gloves, and I need them for different purposes. What I'm trying to say is, the dog-walking gloves don't go with the nice gloves, no matter what Marie might think. Sorry, Marie!
Day 9 - Day 10 -- Books
I love to read, but I think my bookshelves are messy and junky looking. I use the library, so I don't really need books, except for a few cookbooks. Actually, I could probably get rid of them, too, now that I think about it. I like to try a new recipe now and then, but the Internet makes that it easy to do without buying the whole book. Hmm. Food for thought :)
Here's another video, this one showing Marie helping a client with her books. Annoyingly, this link doesn't work -- I am leaving it in just in case it fixes itself. Marie wants you to remove every book from every shelf and pile them up. Go through them one by one. If they don't spark joy, discard them. Put what's left back on your shelf. I failed miserably at following her advice. During my first foray at book-discarding, I just went book by book through the shelves. I discarded many of the books, but that left all of my DH's and a few of mine. And I walked away. It looked better, but it wasn't life-changing. Then I visited my sister's house.
My sister had recently moved, with a TON of books (after a massive move-inspired discard). She has several matching tall bookshelves in the most public room in her house. And those bookshelves were filled (crammed!) with books. But, they were stacked so neatly and appealingly, mostly according to size: a lot of alignment. She admitted that the project took hours. But since the shelves are in her living room, I think it was time well spent. I came back to my house and took a look at my bookshelf.
Marie smiled upon me as yes, I took every book off the shelf. I discarded a few more, I piled them up according to size, and I put them back so that they aligned neatly together, leaving open space if I could. How I wish I had a before picture (I think I don't like taking them because if I don't improve the situation, they are an unfortunate reminder). I can't stop admiring how it looks now!
Side note: Marie's book advises that you leave everyone else's stuff alone, which I have been scrupulous about. For the bookshelf, I had to move my DH's books around, so for the first time, I think he noticed that something happened, but he never said anything about it. One thing he has done, though, and it is SO annoying: when he puts a book back on the shelf, he leans it across one of the open spaces, basically not making any effort at all to put it back where it came from (seemingly the easiest thing to do). It's as if he doesn't see any of the symmetry, or it is some kind of weird passive-aggressiveness against the neatness. He is definitely not inspired to Kondo-ize :).
Day 11 - Day 12 -- Piles o' Papers
I have piles and piles and piles of papers. I'd probably have to put papers as one of the worst clutter issues for one reason: they're out in the open. And the ones that aren't out in the open are in thick, disorganized files in my file cabinet. Which became my first target. If I can discard a lot of the papers in the file cabinet, then I'll have more room to actually file the papers in the piles. Not that I should be filing; I should be discarding.
File by file. So far, I'm doing at least an okay job. I keep "discard" as the first option, instead of my preferred "file and forget." I went through a three-inch thick file of old knitting patterns and discarded 99% of it. Note to self: never print a pattern unless you're sitting down to knit it. I had fifty "oh, this looks interesting" patterns in that file. Ridiculous. Bookmark it or somehow save it on Ravelry. Do not print it out!!!
After going through every file, I went through the piles. Since I'd cleared out room in my files, I had more room to actually file stuff, plus I discarded plenty. I ended up "disappearing" a foot-high pile on my kitchen counter that has been there for years. The one negative is that I filed "to do" and now it is hidden away. I'd like to have a "to do" spot out in the open. On the other hand, having "to do" out in the open hasn't meant it got done. Maybe an electronic list would be better, especially if I set it on my phone to remind me every week or so.
Day 31 - Day ?? -- The Endless Komono of Photographs
I don't take a lot of pictures, but somehow they accumulate. I let the digital and physical piles build up for years and then I eventually get prints and put them in albums. I would love to transition to a digital album system, because then you could have more than one copy. On the other hand, I truly enjoy looking through my old albums. Right now, the problem isn't the two years' worth of un-printed pictures that I need to catch up on. The problem is the boxes and boxes of old pictures that I have sitting in various places around my house. My plan is to sit in front of the Harry Potter Weekend on ABC Family and at minimum, organize them. I will discard the ones I can discard -- I am hoping it will be a huge amount. I can't discard the ones that are my DH's, but I can put all of his old unorganized pictures into one box. Is it ironic that I'm going to take before and after pictures of this project?
Photographs were almost easy (see below). I saved (1) fantastic pictures that either spark my own joy or (2) photos that I can see my DDs wanting copies of, at some point in the future or (3) photos that are my DH's. Everything else went in the trash. Probably a copy paper box before, a half-shoebox after.
And then, a week later, I found another copy paper box full of photos. Arggh!!!! If I was more organized, I would be able to do what Marie says (get everything in a category out at once). Unfortunately, I am so unorganized, I can't even find all the stuff I have hidden all over the house.
The Ongoing Nightmare of Komono
I emptied a glass bowl on my shelf -- a big glass bowl. Full of used ink cartridges and random stuff. I love looking at it! It's empty! Sorry, I forgot to get a before picture, probably
because I didn't think I'd empty it. It was so full, nothing else would fit.
As an exercise in self-growth, I took a good long look at my nightstand and here it is. 
This is how it looks 90% of the time. Crazy town, I know. It is especially ironic how a dustcloth has sat there for months. The dustcloth is now dusty. Marie would not approve.
Additionally, I had the summer off work, but now work has started up again, so I have less time Kondo-ize. And I can see piles start to form. My drawers are still neat, my bookshelf looks fantastic, but papers blow in and accumulate.
My issues list:
- I share storage. Marie says every person should have their own separated storage. My closet is shared, my bookshelves are shared.
- I have items spread out all over the house. Marie says that each category should be stored in one place, all together. I live in a fairly small house. Many items aren't stored all together, which is something she insists on. I understand why -- then you can't pretend you don't see how much you truly have! This whole book is about banging your head on the brick wall of how much crap you actually have. The big one for me will be my yarn. I have it spread out all over the place and I don't see how I can get it all together. I'd like to, but it might be impossible.
- Let's face it. I'm a hoarder in this sense: if I can just put the item into a drawer and walk away, I'll keep it. For example, I just took ten pairs of eyeglasses to a box at Whole Foods, where they were collecting them. Some of these glasses were twenty or more years old. What was I planning on doing with them? Why is it hard to throw those away? P.S., I think I have more glasses around here . . . must keep looking, before that collection box at Whole Foods disappears.
- Buying stuff. I don't need any more clothes, but I buy them. I need to break the habit of shopping, especially online shopping -- I have made real progress on this one. Since reading her book, I keep discarding and I am buying much less.
- I don't do it as much as I used to, but I occasionally wear old clothes that bring me NO JOY at all. It is like I am saving my joy clothes for . . . what? Some mythical occasion? I think that if I wear the item, I will get it dirty or ruined in some way. So instead I leave it in the closet with the tags on. I resolve not to do this any more (I don't do it as much as I used to). Wear it or get rid of it.
Lessons Learned from Marie Kondo:
- Get your stuff out into the light of day and really look at it. Admit how much you have and how much you don't need or even want!
- The more you discard, the easier it gets. It's like a muscle that gets stronger.
- Be very deliberate about purchases -- if it doesn't spark joy and it isn't absolutely necessary, don't buy it.
- Don't put the random item into the glass bowl on the shelf, or into the kitchen drawer, or on the stack, or into the file -- discard it.
- Put your &^$(&ing stuff away! Her system is: reduce how much stuff you have until it fits in your living space, find a place for everything, put it away. That's it!
More to come. I am going to press on during my summer break (2016).
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