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.