I will admit to having a tortured relationship with stuff. I grew up in a cluttered house and married the King of Clutter (he’s the type of person who’ll open a credit card bill, pay it online, and then just leave the empty envelope, inserts, and bill itself randomly strewn on whatever surface happens to be nearby). I don’t like the disorder of clutter, but dealing with it is such a soul-sucking experience that I haven’t gotten very far. Many days I semi-wish the whole place would burn down and save me from having to deal with it.
Typically I’ll catch an episode of Hoarders, fear that I’m one incapacitating injury away from being the focus of an episode (if I can’t clean up all those strewn papers, they’ll just pile up to the rafters, after all!), and then go through a stack of junk in a fit of unhappiness. Not the best way to deal with it all.
Marie Kondo’s book is the opposite of that. It’s a breath of fresh air and positive energy that brings real joy to the process of "tidying up."
I was only about halfway through before I tackled my clothes. She’s right to begin there. My clothes are all mine (which also means that they’re in nowhere near as terrible a state as other things in my house), so going through them affects only me and involves only my own feelings. Her advice may sound silly at first, but if your belongings inspire feelings of unhappiness, guilt, etc., her anthropomorphism of them can really help you change your viewpoint in a positive direction. I finished up with three bags for Goodwill and one for the garbage man. My drawers and closet, which were never very messy, are now exactly as I want them, and I feel fantastic!
My one quibble with her instructions has to do with folding. I’ve always disliked rolls of items.
I enjoyed reading this book. I could identify a lot with Kondo as she shared her lifelong pursuit of tidyness and order. I also like to organize and tidy and like to have a place for everything and everything in its place. In fact, one of the best parts of Christmas for me is that week after Christmas where I have an opportunity to organize all the new stuff and cull out the old stuff.
This is vastly different from any other cleaning, household management, or organizational book I have ever read. Kondo’s approach is easy to follow and understand. Her philosophy of physically touching each and every item in your home as you decide what brings you joy and what you can live without was rather revolutionary for me. I never would have approach tidying up like that, especially with clothing or books.
Overall, I think this is an excellent book and approach to home organization that could benefit many people, particularly here in America where we are blessed with a plentiful bounty of “stuff”. I think anyone could read this book and immediately make positive changes in their home.
However, in the interest of an honest review, I have to admit there were things that I found a little odd in the book. The author expresses many times the idea of talking to your belongings and thanking them for what they do for you. She also encourages readers to greet their home when they come home. For me, I would never do that. It is also obvious that she practices a religion in which followers set up shrines in their homes. She never states which religion it is, but I suspect the anthropomorphizing of her belongings stems from that. I enjoyed the book despite the differences in our beliefs, but other readers might not.