–by Mary Helen Darah
PUBLICATION DATE: Feb 19, 2019

I was in a library in Ann Arbor and found two books comically displayed next to one another. The first was “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up,” by Marie Kondo and the second was, “The Joy of Leaving Your Sh*t All Over the Place,” written by Jennifer McCartney. Thankfully, I decided to purchase the first, especially since I was painfully, smack dab in the middle of a major “right-sizing.” The thought of losing 1,200 square ft. and the realization that I would go from a modern-day closet to one built in the 1930s was traumatic. Apparently, in the homes of yesteryear, things like family and friends held more value (and space in the house) than areas to hold 32 sweaters, and two-decades worth of non-fitting jeans in varying sizes. I needed help.
I knew going from a woman in constant search of car keys, a cell phone and a working remote to becoming a peaceful, calm minimalist wasn’t going to happen overnight. I am sentimental as well as the only female heir of the family, which translates into being the “keeper of the crap.” I take this role seriously. So, when I am bestowed a large plate from great aunt Margie (who I barely recall), commemorating the founding of a church (which I have never stepped foot in), held in a city I couldn’t point out on a map (without an assist from Google), I graciously accept. Those days are gone, along with a few other constraining habits.
The first thing I learned is that you cannot tidy up a little every day or you will be tidying up for a lifetime. The process has to be a bit uncomfortable. Marie Kondo has you begin with clothing. She has her clients empty out every item from their closets and put it in one room. OK, I cheated with this demand because frankly if I put all my clothes in the middle of the room at once, it would be a fire hazard due to blocked exit ways. Instead, I categorized dresses, blouses, pants, play clothes (stuff I wear while at my Canadian home, usually attired with the design of least one large mammal) and accessories. This was overwhelming enough. How in the world did I acquire all this stuff?
I took the author’s advice and got rid of anything that was torn, stained and didn’t fit. I have a confession though, I still hung on to a few, “I know I can get into this if I give up truffle fries and the second glass of wine” items. But the majority of adorable things that I can no longer zip and/or I experience labored breathing in, have been donated to worthy organizations.
I am happy to report that I am down to my last pile of items to go through. Let me tell you, it’s not an easy process but once you declutter and open a closet where you can actually see options, real wearable choices in front of you, the feeling is incredible. There are two things from the book, which also inspired a show currently on Netflix, that I found life-changing. The first is to hold every item and ask yourself if it sparks joy. Mind you, if I were to do this with everything in my life, I would be left with my kids, family, friends, and one highly unmotivated, couch-loving golden retriever. Doing this with inanimate objects, however, helped me realize what I find truly valuable. Another thing Kondo asks you to do is to thank an unwanted item for its service and then release it. I know it sounds odd, but it made the letting go of a spontaneous purchase that still had the tags on it and great aunt Margie’s church plate seem less guilt-laden.
I am still a work in progress. I am not looking forward to the next steps of her “KonMari Method.” After, clothing, you tackle books, paper (I’m not sure how a cable bill has any hope of sparking joy), “komono,” which includes items in the kitchen, garage and bathroom and finally all sentimental items. It won’t be easy but I know the end result will be worth it. I will finally have the courage to toss the thing-a-ma-jig in my kitchen drawer that is supposed to do something amazing that I cannot recall, the how-to survive this and that books sitting on my shelf that I have not turned to in times of need and the abundance of other assorted items.
A few things were made crystal clear going through this exhausting project. First, I need a twelve-step program when it comes to scented candles and dog toys. Second, truly, less is more. Most importantly, by decluttering my life I spend less time tidying and more time with my most valuable treasures…the people (and critters) I love.