Home should spark joy

I am subscribed to a double-handful of newsletters. Most I tend to ignore until I'm ready to read them (that's usually a few days up to a few weeks).

But one arrived today, and for some reason, I was thrilled.

It was the KonMari newsletter. I was genuinely happy to receive it. Today's topic: Greeting your home. It contained a lovely video of Marie Kondo greeting a home before getting to work.

Following up somewhat from my last post, I thought about my home.

Actually, I'd been thinking much about  home lately, since my parents had come to visit, bringing pictures and news of the place I was born. I also listened to the stories of others in my family, of former neighbours, old school friends and more. Not everyone had a happy home, a place to which they could retreat from the world and find comfort and rest.  (My daughters later remarked on the change they noticed when their grandparents had come into our home, and when they had left. I think one of the phrases they used was, "It's so quiet now." Shame, for there were more stories I wanted to hear.)

For a lot of people, home isn't a quiet place, or a safe space. It's not somewhere they want to be.

My daughter had some trouble with this concept. We are often out at stupid o'clock in the morning as she has a before-school extracurricular class. She'd see fellow students on their way to school a good two hours before the school starts. "Why are they leaving so early?"  Escaping home as soon as one could wasn't something that had crossed her radar.

I'm glad she does not feel that way about our home. I've worked hard to make my home feel like a home should. It feels warm at my home. It feels welcoming. It feels safe.

And that's the way it should be.

KonMari: It's Okay to Keep All Your Books

At the onset of the New Year, I did what I do every year and got rid of old stuff I no longer needed or wanted.  My rules are thus:

1. Do I like this item? If not, toss.
2. Do I have an actual, planned, scheduled use for this item within the next six months (or within a year, if seasonal)? If not, out it goes.
3. Exception to the rule: Family heirloom or something of great, exceptional value.

Things I got rid of this year:

• Clothes that don't fit.
• Shoes I never wear.
• Old sheets, blankets, bedding, towels, etc.
• Fabric scraps
• Mismatched plates
• Mismatched plastics
• Christmas decorations to which I have no sentimental attachments
• Household ornaments that I had no idea I was holding on to. Unless it does something, why keep it?

It's amazing how free the house feels when you get rid of useless stuff.

Two days after I started my mighty cull, the Marie Kondo memes exploded on the internet.

Marie Kondo has about thirty books in her home that truly 'spark joy' for her.  A lo of people mis-interpreted this to mean, "You can only keep thirty books and must ditch the rest."

Boy, the uproar.

What I found interesting is that the Great KonMari Uproar was only about one thing. It wasn't about clothes or kitchenware. It was about books.

BOOKS.

This is one of my many bookshelves:

We like, no, we LOVE books. They spark a great joy in us. There's something wonderfully magic in a book. I hold it in my hand and I can feel marvelousness. This could be because books saved me from reality when I was a child.

Reality was a not-nice place for me growing up. Thank goodness my parent were bookworms and had plenty of books at home. I read every single one I could lay my hands on. My folks took me to the library regularly. Even got me my first library card at age 3. (I may still have it tucked away somewhere. It's yellow. You can't miss it.) I'd come home from the horror known as school and I'd lose myself in books.

So yeah. Books spark joy. Opening the cover of a book is like opening an escape hatch. I can't imagine getting rid of any of our print books.

I've been asked if I'd get rid of any books I won't read again. My answer: I won't know I won't read it again until after I'm dead. I've gone twenty years between readings of certain books.

Now, there are books I've read once, and I know for sure I'll never read again. Those books have already left my collection because they proved their unworthiness to stay.

The rest are there for a reason.

* * * * *

I did my research and watched a few episodes of Marie Kondo. It was surprisingly good. She took a different approach to determining what to keep and what to toss, compared with other shows of similar genre.

I did learn one thing. You keep something because it brings you joy. You don't keep something because you're afraid to lose it.