Sparking Joy at work (not)

Now if only we could spark joy at work. I already know I have a joyless job. Maybe that’s partially why I compensate by having tons of personal “stuff” around. They’re attempting to remodel though, so they’ve warned us to take everything non-essential home. Glack. All I did was take extra pens and pictures home, and I feel like the life has been sucked out of me. I still have half a spice cabinet there and my mock medicine cabinet (vitamins and supplements) so my space is far from tidy or uncluttered. I’m very particular about the pens l like, so only having a few means it’s almost catastrophic if I misplace one. Not that I really needed 30+ there in an attractive pen-holder. But I seriously have to figure out some way to have something joyful there because I don’t think I can last long like this. And they haven’t even moved us into the smaller spaces yet where there won’t be room for anything. Not even cubicles, where one could at least decorate. Just open desks, barely big enough to fit keyboard and computer screens. I’ve been dreading it in the back of my mind for some time, as the construction slowly moved around the company. For the workplace almost being a “home away from home” where one sometimes spends the majority of waking hours, it sure seems like it’s going to be a listless barren . . . wasteland seems to be the best descrition.

Timely Reading

TimeI’m glad I got the second Marie Kondo book. Even though I haven’t made it very far, there are details I appreciate her bringing up. Every time I read something, I inevitably think “oops, I already messed that up” but I realize it’s not completely my fault. I simply started “tidying” before I knew all of her expert tips. I got rid of books she would have allowed me to keep. I apologized to clothing with tags still on, for not wearing and appreciating them (she has this thing about saying thank you and treating inanimate objects as living beings).

I’m happy to report I read something today just in time. She said if you have iffy items, go ahead and keep them confidently. Don’t stash them in the corner and see if you don’t miss them in 2 or 3 months. She says go ahead and keep them as if you love them, and see what happens. Either you’ll appreciate the item more, or realize you really don’t enjoy it that much. It reminds me of a youtube video by someone else (Simple Happy Zen, I believe) that said if you’re not sure about clothes you haven’t worn in a while, then start wearing them. You’ll either enjoy them and realize what you’re missing, or you’ll realize what was wrong with them and the reason you stopped wearing them. Either way, it sounds like it’ll be that much easier to make the decision and be at peace with it.

I had a couple of stuffies this week I just wasn’t sure about. I thought if they don’t jump out at you as sparking joy, that’s kind of a signal right off the bat that it’s a “no.” But Konmari says go ahead and keep them. She said keep them “with confidence.” I liked that. Keep them as if you have every right to. Like to heck with other people who tell you to make up your mind already. Just keep them as if you have every right to. Treat them wonderfully as if they do spark joy, and you will either love them or realize they have served their purpose and it’s ok to let them go (perhaps they did spark joy previously, so it’s ok, their mission has been completed). So these two stuffies are staying. I figured why not snuggle them and lounge about with them and see if I do feel a little happier with them being around. Just because they don’t rate a 10 on the spark joy scale, if I’m not ready to let them go yet, it’s ok. See, I told you I like her philosophies for the most part. This is why I got her books and am following her method (sort of, aside from my mistakes). She makes the process more enjoyable. I think that can make all the difference. You can get rid of stuff because you feel forced to, and feel dejected and disappointed. Feeling like you’re bad for having items in the first place, and worse that you feel obligated to get rid of items. You still liked. Or you can let stuff go because you realize you don’t love it anymore, and it’s time to move on, and create what is your ideal paradise around you right now. The end result might be the same number of items in your home, or similar improved space and clear pathways and reduced clutter. But the enjoyment of what you keep is her emphasis, and I’m all for it. By evaluating things as to whether they still “spark joy” for you is her theme, and it makes it so much easier to part with things when you realize it’s ok to thank them and let them go. Giving them to my relatives or a thrift shop means they still have a chance at being used and appreciated, so even treating them like living things, I’m allowing them to move on to a better life than being cramped up in my closet or storage. I’m not rejecting them and telling them they’re no good or have failed me. If that’s not therapeutic, I almost don’t know what is.

Stuffy sort - 2 bags down

Made it through two huge stuffy bags so far. I’ll have to look up the exact sizes, because now that they’re sorted out, they fill up 3 regular large bags and change, so it’s difficult to quantify exactly how much will exit our abode. We got the gargantuan sizes so we could pack quickly & stuff it in storage, as there was a LOT to relocate. But they were also very heavy, so how that we’re repacking things to give away, we’re using more manageable bags.

I guess the point is that I haven’t broken down crying because I feel forced to give things away that I treasure and want to keep. I’d say over half will be leaving (maybe up to two-thirds, but I’m trying not to over-estimate). But then begins the tedium. I mentioned we have people we’d like to give to. But you don’t know exactly what they want. And we decided we might also see if we can donate to a Children’s Hospital or something like that. That should give a nice warm fuzzy feeling. No, the tedium is taking things to and from work because I don’t know what that person will like, taking and sending photos of items to relatives out of state, and trying to figure out logistics of getting everything to everyone and then trucking back what they don’t want. That is going to give me a headache. As if decluttering and clearing items out isn’t enough. I’m sure I should take an exact census, even by animal species, for a good story someday, right? We don’t just have aquatic animals, we have blue whales, humpback whales, sea otters, river otters, several specific types of sharks and fish. We have numerous dog breeds, giant and red pandas, flying squirrels . . . a virtual little ark.

Taking a break, but hope to get more bags out to sift through this weekend.

Sorting Stuffies

In my defense, I didn’t have many stuffed animals as a child. I had a few well-worn beat up hand-me-downs from two older sisters, and a couple of “pretty” ones that I wasn’t allowed to play with because they were for display only (per my mother). So I didn’t really appreciate them. Unfortunately as an adult, my best friend dragged me to the dark side. Not going to make excuses here, but suffice it to say we had one full bedroom chocked full of stuffed animals, which is one reason apartment management disapproved of our use of space. This was the primary reason we got a storage unit. There simply wasn’t enough time to go through all the yarn and stuffed animals crammed in that spare bedroom and make any good decisions (I didn’t think chucking it all without looking was a good decision either). I think Kondo would agree here. Many of those things sparked joy for me, and to get rid of them without consideration would be foolish. Not to mention the feeling of resentment and hate at feeling forced to do so. If I go through them now and find many of them don’t spark joy, at least I can part with them willingly and peacefully.

The good news is that most of them are in near-mint condition, and I have a few families lined up as possible recipients. In extended family I have 5 grandnieces/nephews under the age of 5 spread out in 4 families. I also have a recently pregnant coworker who doesn’t even know the gender of her child yet, but said she’d be happy to take some. At least I know they will go to good people who will appreciate them, vs. the impersonality of dropping them off at a thrift store. That should help some, right?

Also think we could donate some to children’s hospitals or fire department if they keep stuffed animals on-hand for children being treated or traumatized (I think some places used to). We can’t use any tax deductions, but perhaps we can get a little bit of a warm fuzzy feeling believing some children out there will appreciate what we’re parting with.

Although this is technically "miscellaneous," I'm afraid some of them might border on sentimental. I can recall where and when we got a lot of these, including vacations and what we used to call "stuffy treks." (sigh) Now to sort. Or at least start.

Not Counting

I realized not long ago that I haven’t been taking “before” pictures. Oh well. I didn’t realize I might want to take photos of things like the inside the the closet. Suffice it to say before November we couldn’t get the hall closet or the bedroom closet to even close. Now we have room to spare and to organize eventually. I also haven’t been dutifully counting all the items leaving. Yesterday and today we did scented candles. I didn’t count how many I kept or got rid of. I can estimate we probably have 70+ left, and got rid of almost half of what we had. By the time my husband started boxing things up, he also taped them, so they couldn’t fall out if something shifted or slipped. We were too tired to count them. I’ve come to the conclusion that if you have that much time and energy to count things at that point, and you’re not already tired or semi-exhausted, you’re not doing it correctly. You’re not working hard enough to evaluate all that junk. The few iffy candles left we have agreed to light or melt in the next days/weeks so we can definitively decide if they need to stay or go (vs. keeping them indefinitely).

Now the sad thing is that even though we can’t think of any more hiding places for the candles, there are a couple that weren’t accounted for, that we really liked. We had two of one scent that smelled like fresh baked bread. The lesson here is that we had troves of candles, weren’t using or enjoying even half of them, and now we can’t even enjoy what we believe was the best one.

If you think this is bad, you should know that for a white elephant gift last Christmas we got rid of two large boxes of candle making supplies and a couple of candle-making books. Yeah. Still doesn’t seem much progress with how many left over. Aside from testing the iffy ones, I half wonder if I need to go back through them in another week or so and see if I can eliminate more. Except that it’s so tiring to do all this. One a good note, last night we had a big pile of iffy candles, and now I think we have less than 10, after another round of sniffing this morning. At least there’s a thrift/donation store less than a mile down the road so it doesn’t matter how many trips we need to make. At least it’s usually not a big ordeal. It’s more work getting things sorted, packed up, and down to the car than going there.

Sparking Joy vs. Lessening Misery

One hard thing I have is this whole “joy” word. It seems a pretty powerful word to use as a standard. The stuff that’s difficult to decide are things I like, or kinda-sorta-nice. After all, there are plenty of items that are necessary that don’t exactly spark joy. They can be appreciated, but not necessarily adored. Tools, like a hammer, wrench, or plunger. Unless you have a strong affinity for tools, I doubt these are most people’s favorites. But they’re good to have on hand, and you don’t simply get rid of them because they don’t majestically uplift your soul when you touch them (ew on the plunger). I have Seasonal Affective Disorder and a couple of therapy lamps that I don’t love. Sometimes they seem to bring and obnoxious, but I know if I don’t use them, I will regret it. By no means do they “spark joy.”

Then there’s the other issue I have with overexposure to a single object. I love photography, but admit if I have the same picture hanging in the same place for too long, I start to zone out and not really see and appreciate it. That’s why I love calendars: they are relatively cheap art that doesn’t take up much space, and can be changed after a while (even if the photo is one I’ve saved from several years ago). So some of these things that I like, I want to cling to because I wonder if I will need to mix things up once in a while to re-kindle any joy or facsimile thereof. I have lots of different colored pens to mix things up too. I can’t see surviving on only blue and black. Sometimes I’m in the mood for purple, sometimes green or gold. But that’s another story.

I keep cups and plates because there isn’t anything wrong with them. I’m not going to chuck them because they don’t “spark joy” for the excuse that I’ll have to go buy new ones that do. Ideally, sure, when they need to be replaced, I could put a little more thought into aesthetic and durability. But for now, some things that are still useable or durable enough don’t have to spark joy in order to serve us well. I can appreciate the plain dinner plates that are thin enough to fit well in the cupboard and not take up as much space as other varieties.

And there’s “stuff” that just falls in between. The extreme winners and losers are easy to decide – don’t want to hang on to, and don’t you dare take that away. But what about the gradations inbetween? What if it strikes a 6 or 7 on your joy scale? It seems comfortably above average, it’s pleasant enough, it certainly hasn’t failed or offended in any way. It’s not a “just in case” but more of a “why get rid of it?” “What’s wrong with it?” kind of thing. I’m sure those are things Kondo would say to get rid of since they aren’t obvious keepers. I appreciate the leniency my husband has given me in hemming and hawing over things like that. Really, things that have been more of a 4 or 5, but subconsciously I probably feel guilty about getting rid of. I don’t know. Maybe it means admitting I was stupid to get it in the first place, or that I’m being too snooty by saying it’s not good enough to overwhelm with joy.

To my credit, coming from parents who are complete hoarders, I’ve made a little bit of progress. Back in November, I’d give my husband the puppy-eyes to keep something iffy, and I could sometimes let it go a couple hours or a couple of days later. I really appreciate how he allowed me to let it go, vs. feeling obligated or guilty. That makes a huge difference to me. I’m not saying I let go of everything, but to me, I noticed quite a few things I did part with that I normally would have put my foot down on, and never looked at again. At least I’d set it aside, keep looking at it off and on, and eventually admit it wasn’t something that needed to stay. I’m not blaming it on my parents, but we tend to follow or at least drift towards what is familiar. My mother currently lives alone in a 5 bedroom house with several other non-bedroom rooms like entry room, living room, family room, library, 3 basement rooms, and it is difficult to get through some of those rooms without knocking things over. Given that’s what I was raised by, I’m trying to improve.

Touchy feely

One thing that might strike people as odd is Marie Kondo’s insistence that joy is only sparked by touching an object. I have no problem with her idea to touch and hold an item before deciding to keep or discard it. Looking at something from a distance may not give you proper perspective or appreciation. But I don’t think that is the only way to asses an item. With my pens, I have to write with them and test them, if I haven’t used them in a while. Simply holding it in my hand is not going to give me any insights. If it’s my scented candles or essential oils, holding a closed container in my hand doesn’t tell me anything – I need to open it and smell it. Some of the clothing I tried on and discovered I really liked something I previously thought was iffy. Or I wanted to try it one to see if or how well it fit. That being said, things that have visual appeal don’t always need to be touched in order to be enjoyed either. I have a glass with dichroic glittery flecks swirled around it sitting on my bedroom shelf. I love it every time I see it. Sure, I can pick it up, roll it around in my hands to appreciate different views of it, but I don’t HAVE to in order for it to spark joy. Simply seeing it across the room is beautiful, and it gives me an inkling of what I should look for in other objects as to whether they make the cut or not.

Yarn Dilemma

One upcoming problem is yarn. I crochet blankets for homeless people and pets, and have routinely been on the constant lookout for sales. But I’d been taking classes consistently for the last six years, so my yarn stash grew faster than normal (whatever normal is). Since I graduated this last year, I’ve already made and donated several blankets. In the initial November clearing, I got rid of 3 large kitchen bags of blankets that I donated to a woman who works with homeless people. Since December I’ve made at least 6 small pet blankets, and I’m working on more. When we don’t want to undertake big sorting on weekday evenings, I’m feverishly using as much yarn as I can, as if that’ll solve everything. My point is that it’s not entirely a “someday” issue. Oh, I’d like to do something with that “someday.” While I don’t keep an active inventory of my yarn, I did get and use nearly 60 skeins of Red Heart worsted yarn during my recent college years. So I’m just saying, it’s not simply sitting there.

So the main problem is storage. It’s not really a “spark joy” issue because I do get yarn I like, and even then, I’m only using it to make something – and then I’m not keeping the end product. I guess the joy is in making things for those who really need it. There are a few skeins of luxuriously soft yarn I want to keep for myself, but I’d say over 80-90% of it is for blanket donations. The sad solution is to use the space saver bags a friend gave me and try to squash the life out of it and tetris it into every nook and crany so I can keep (and use) as much of it as possible. Thus I’ve been trying to crochet like crazy, even though realistically that’s only sparing a few small skeins from this suffocating fate. The only other option is to use those bags for my stuffed animal collection, and that’s even more appalling of an idea. Yes, Marie Kondo, you are right, it’s not worth getting bulk sales if you can’t afford to keep your items. But as much as I spent on it, I’m not going to get rid of or even donate hoards of yarn at this point. Even though I’m not keeping it, I did selfishly buy color and textures I like (or generally tolerate), and I’m not giving that up. We tried getting yarn and yard sales and thrift stores, but it’s generally at risk of icky dust, must, smells, and unknown stickiness that sucks all the joy right out of using it. If I come across some of that while organizing the yarn, I’m happy to donate that back to the thrift store. Unfortunately I’m also disobeying Kondo by focusing on storage, and by imprisoning it in a yucky wrinkled ziplock situation.

If I sort yarn next, with the expectation of keeping most of it and wanting to organize it so I can actually find things, that will be time consuming. I can’t keep the storage unit that long – it’s ridiculously expensive. We only got it because we couldn’t go through everything in a week, and because it was slightly cheaper than getting a bigger dwelling. If yarn sorting isn’t the most time effective to tackle next, the next step will be stuffed animals. We’ll save that saga for another post.

Everything in one closet?

Well, I’ve finished the first Marie Kondo book: The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying up. It’s still very nicely optimistic, but my take-away is that everything has to be in one closet. Not just clothes, but also books, posters, décor, your happy/power spot – put it all in the closet. I find this odd because if all this stuff truly sparks joy, why does one have to hide it in the closet? I was almost surprised she didn’t say to put your kitchen items in the bedroom closet as well. I get that one shouldn’t have things strewn around the house, but I like having pictures on the wall – not the wall inside the closet. I like having some things on shelves because that’s where I can look at, and enjoy them. Yes, I actually have bookcases outside my closet, that would not fit in the closet. I admit they’re not well-purged and organized yet, so hopefully they will eventually be less crowded, but things like movies, books, photo albums, craft supplies, I actually do have on shelves outside the closet, and I didn’t think that was so horrible. I know I have a long way to go, but I cannot see having absolutely everything I own occupy one closet. I mean, do I keep toiletries there too, because I’m probably not allowed to use the bathroom cupboard anymore? Sorry, I can’t envision that yet, and the concept does not have the connotation of joy. I’d have to walk inside my closet just to enjoy anything, and consolidating all those items in one place makes me think even with purging, it may be a bit crowded and overwhelming. I don’t see how it would be wrong to have a few shelves with decorations, knick-knacks, or so on, in the home. The ones that make the cut after purging – the ones that do truly spark joy. Does one keep their home office crammed inside the closet too? (not that I have one, but you get the idea). Do we keep the fine china, mac and cheese, dining room table, and treadmill all in that one closet? No, I don’t own anything but the mac and cheese, and yes, I’m being facetious to prove a point. I know one shouldn’t keep excessive items, but that still seems like things would get cramped very fast and hinder the ability to really appreciate all those items if one can only keep them in the closet. Sorry, having a hard time wrapping my head around this one point. Otherwise, I’m ready to start book two: Spark Joy.

Book sorting

I tried to go through books today. I’ve been thinking about “miscellaneous” items up ahead that have sentimental value, but really shouldn’t. And other items that are miscellaneous that would be so boring to go through, I dread it. But that’s getting ahead. Marie Kondo would have to slap my hand and remind me that if I follow her prescribed order, it will be monumentally easier and faster. But boy, did book-sorting suck. I started off ok. Bringing all books together raises awareness that one probably has too many books, or certainly doesn’t need them all. The sheer bulk is supposed to smack you in the face and make you realize there is probably room to prune, without getting rid of what you really cherish. I have so many books I have not read, or not read all the way through, that look like they would be beneficial, but don’t really “spark joy.” In fact, I struggled definitively getting rid of them even though they sparked the opposite: guilt, sadness, regret. What reasonable person would want to keep such books around, right? Yet so many of them . . . I can’t really prove they wouldn’t benefit me because like an ignorant dork, I bought them with great intentions and then never actually read them. (My friend Rift is probably jaw-gaping, shaking her head in disbelief, at such sacrilege). I have to admit that’s at least a sliver of my indecisiveness. I was raised to think of books as things not just to be read, but savored, treasured, and kept forever and ever. Growing up, my older sister had a “library” of books in her room because of her avid fascination and joy of reading. So even if I can donate these items (vs. discarding them to permanent ruin), even donating them – the act of relinquishing them – seems horribly irreverent and inexcusable. So I started off with my love pile, the get rid of (because they’re available online) pile, and then the “obligation to reconsider” pile. And after a few books, I even felt guilty putting them in the middle pile, and I realized I was putting “ok” and “not bad” books in the pile supposedly reserved for “spark joy.” What’s wrong with me? I can’t even clearly delineate 3 piles, even if most items wound up in the guilt/obligation pile? That does bring me to my fears about this whole cleaning/purging project. With some of the items I haven’t even sorted yet, I’m afraid I’ll either love everything or nothing. Either I’ll still have so much “stuff” I refuse to get rid of, the end result will not be liveable, or I’ll be so brutally honest about true “joy” sparking items that I’ll have nothing left, but still feel empty and a craving to fill that void with more useless stuff. You see, years ago, I realized that when I attempted to clear out my desk to be more stark and impersonal, I couldn’t stand it for long, and I’d just drag new or different stuff into my space. I would then feel a bit more content until people gave me a hard time about it. But I really could hardly stand it when it was so bleak and empty either. One day I went to the dollar store on my lunch to alleviate the discomfort and realized how futile it was. So I stopped resisting and gave up. I figured maybe that was just how I was, and it was stupid trying to change it. Kondo isn’t trying to change who we are, which is what I appreciate about her ideas. She says keep what you love – don’t force yourself or try to get rid of it. I’m also not sure of the effect of being in an off/foul mood before attempting to sort stuff. I mean, if you feel crappy, how much harder do items have to work in order to “spark joy” for you? If you’re in an upbeat, chipper mood, you might find joy more easily, and even more genuinely. I’m sure that’s one more reason to justify clinging to the “maybe” pile. Last fall when we attempted to get rid of some items in record time, (pre Kondo) I appreciated my spouse allowing me to have the maybe pile. In many cases, I relented and released the item by the end of the day or end of the week. But I was still allowed to arrive on that decision on my own, without feeling so badly about it – feeling forced into getting rid of something I wasn’t ready to. I realize that’s still dragging one’s feet and slowing down the process, but you can have regret and resentment in getting rid of stuff too quickly too. That’s what I’m striving to avoid. I left the piles of books for the night. I’ll try to re-read Kondo’s section on book-sorting again and see if that helps rekindle enthusiasm and clarity.

Cleaning Out

By way of Introduction: I have recently admitted I have a “stuff”/possession addiction, and am trying to reduce and find a better balance. I listened to hours of youtube videos by various people; not just Marie Kondo. But I also happened across her audiobook and listened to the first 2 hours (probably without them realizing it was public and free, as it has since been removed) and realized that I would indeed like to at least attempt to follow along with this expert’s advice. Well, mostly kind of. I found her first book cheerful, uplifting and inspiring – what I really need right now. I would much rather WANT to get rid of stuff instead of feeling like I am being force to by my apartment management (with no substantiating reason in my lease). I am sure I will still be belligerent and argue and break rules, but for now, this is my challenge, and the method I am attempting to use. And anything else I find inspiring or motivating. But to be clear, I am not doing Konmari because it’s fashionable, popular, or everyone else is doing it. I am undertaking this purge regardless, but I hope her books, videos, stories and ideas make it more tolerable.