And, in the KonMari Method, holding a single object at a time and asking yourself if it sparks joy.
And doing this repeatedly.
Individually.
Marie describes these sparks as "a little thrill, as if the cells in your body are slowly rising."
First let me say that our house is so filled with objects that my hands, arms, shoulders and back would suffer great harm if I were to lift each object, one by one.
And I really don't want to spend this 80th year of my life hoisting and wondering if that was a thrill or the start of a migraine.
My good friend and walking partner told me this morning that she was describing our walks to a friend. She said that I don't really notice the dogs we pass or people, but rather I am so enthralled with the seed pods and leaves and spider webs I see.
Well.... I do notice some people and dogs and houses but, really, I'm more apt to put a twin joined baby hazelnut into my pocket than to comment on the utterly huge and ugly house that's under construction.
I'm actually quite skilled at gathering and talking simultaneously.
And so I move into the reason for writing today's blog.
Our house is messy and cluttered and filled with things.
I have a small bamboo box with dried seed heads that rests on a table in our dining room. Beside it is a plate rimed with gold stars where smooth black stones and a pearlized oyster shell reside.
A friend who used to teach very young children (as I did) commented that it reminded her of collections she had in her classroom for the children to look at and touch.
But those were conscious, on-purpose- learning- school- collections.
But these gatherings of mine have a sense of order to them. They are arranged in a pleasing way and arranged just so between plants.
Eccentric but tidy.
Tidy but taking space.
Things.
When I move from the dining room to write, I am overwhelmed by clutter.
The clutter on my computer table.
Right now there are five pens, a magnifying glass, a Tim Hortons gift card ready to give away, and a small yellow post-it pad.
To the right of the computer there are 3 books to look at, a printed image of the Israeli flag, a note with the address of my niece in Montreal, and These Precious Days by Ann Patchett to read for book club. Underneath this book from 2021, I have a very old copy of The Physical Life of Woman by Dr George H. Napheys A.M., M.D. Advice to the Maiden, Wife and Mother.
And this is only what I see, seated at the computer
But why is all this stuff on the computer table?
The room has three large bookshelves, a small basket for pens and the magnifying glass, and I have already copied Miriam's contact information into my address book. The gift card belongs in my purse.
It's kind of okay to have a messy office/den but sadly it's not confined to this room.
It seems They have a "a place for everything and everything in its place."
Friends tell me that our home is so interesting, filled with art and fascinating things.
However when I have my reading group or mah jongg friends over, I get in a panic.
Several years ago, when I was expecting company, I took a medium-sized plastic bin and filled it with things that were on counters and table surfaces.
Everything looked great then, but within days I needed my purloined stuff and emptied the bin, returning the things to their familiar places.
I read somewhere that a cluttered space indicates a cluttered mind, and that new research suggests that clutter can be a contributing factor to stress.
And then I found this reassuring quote:
When asked about his messy desk, Einstein remarked "If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, then what are we to think of an empty desk?"
