
Originally Posted by
Prickly Pear
I think Marie Kondo's relationship to books is a common one. If you buy books because you want to be the kind of person who reads books, but you really aren't, her advice is sound. It sounds like sacrilege to those of us who love books and read like breathing, but for many people reading is a tedious chore. In my experience, they shift between respect for true readers for tackling such an onerous chore, and disdain that we read when we could be doing something. Sometimes they are right. Our house is about fifty/fifty. It is an unspoken and bitter division. We generally try not to provoke each other.
I read my books repeatedly. I used to keep them grouped chronologically, and I could revisit the things I was thinking about at different times. I have moved them a few times recently, and realized that many of them can go now. I will still keep waaaay more than thirty books, but they will be ones that I expect to revisit.
To highlight the difference, I mentioned to one of the non-book people that I had plans to cull my books. She suggested that I take the old books, cut them up with an exacto knife and make sculptures out of them. I gasped out a horrified "NO!". She was offended; I am still in a sort of painful shock at the idea. I will do my best to pass them on to other happy readers. And let us be fully clear, this is a child raised in a home full of books, where there was at least one adult who read lots. The depth of our differences was never so stark. We will have to dance politely around each other for some time.
The people who try the folding method seem to really like it once they do. I figure that I will give it a shot. But I was never in the military, if I had been, I would probably have a hard time giving up military folding. I am, in fact, a messy folder. I figure trying Marie Kondo's way will be good for me. Folding like that will never work for my husband, as he has a paralyzed arm. He would hang socks and underwear if he could figure out a way. He can organize his clothes in a way that works for him.
I don't know that this method does particularly promote consumerism. I see a lot of people interpreting it as they choose, or working in denial of their addiction to things. It is like some of the capsule wardrobe business. It is supposedly a minimalist concept, but if you look it up, so many people are creating multiple capsules. A capsule for each season, fully accessorized, plus a capsule for each of 5 kinds of vacations. A new capsule every season of every year. This is not how it was originally intended. I have to admit that planning these is like colorful suduko, so maybe that's where it ends for a lot of people.
If you throw out your toilet brush because it brings you no joy, then you are going to have one unjoyful toilet situation. However, when your toilet brush wears out, it doesn't hurt to think about finding a brush that does a better job of reaching the odd corners, or distributes the cleaner better, or fits your hand better, or doesn't fall apart every two weeks. You don't need a designer toilet brush. Just one that does the job to your satisfaction. I just did this. I am happier, and I don't feel guilty about it. I sure don't expect to win a Nobel prize, or reach Nirvana because of it. Nor do I think Marie Kondo would expect me to. I can just get the toilet cleaner, faster, and with less frustration.
To be honest, I was resistant as could be to Marie Kondo. I thought it was like a pro-anorexia plan but for cleaning/organizing. But as I look at the basic concepts and steps, I think doing them forces you to really think about your own consumerism. Plenty of people are going to interpret it as throw out everything you own and replace it with very expensive "quality" stuff. But I don't know that that is what it says at all. It points out that there is a psychological process going on when we accumulate things. Sometimes it is unhealthy, or even unsafe. It is often financially burdensome, as well. Sometimes it is good. We just need to know the difference.
It may seem elitist to worry about having too many things, but it we cannot sustain what we are doing now. We need to do the hard thinking, and sorry, the hard feeling.
I also think this is in line with some thoughts that coalesced for me after reading a book called Braiding Sweetgrass. It is the thought that if we don't take the time to see the valuable things all around us, we will destroy them seeking what we think we need, but already have. It is a deep part of my spiritual path, so that is how I approach the Marie Kondo book. Other people will probably approach it differently.
Bookmarks