Closets

Netflix offered another Marie Kondo series, where she guided four homeowners in making their living space more habitable, or in the situation of a widow, the ability to repackage her later years.  None of the four had quite the clutter that I have.  As a senior living in a house with three levels, I know that a day will come when I can no longer do that.  The uncertainty is really whether I manage that or it is imposed on my wife and me.  While I do not want downsizing to be all consuming, I have to allocate part of each day to making it less burdensome on others who will inevitably inherit some or all the tasks.  

Marie has a five part system.  She does not do the decluttering herself, but processes the homeowners through what they need to do between her visits.  Leaving aside the pseudo-religious aspects, her process of sorting by type rather than region has some merit.  As a practical matter, if underwear did not bring me joy, I still could not discard all of it.  Yet as I watched the four episodes, with a little dozing and no recapture of what I missed, I recognized things that I like to have.  I like pens, briefcases, road maps, logo coffee mugs, and ties, accumulating far more than I could realistically use in large part because in their own way they probably bring me that element of joy that tries to get her clients to recognize.  And maybe I have a sub-fondness for zippered loose-leaf binders, too, as I accumulated quite a lot, buying an additional one whenever one on display attracts me.

Her five:

1. Clothing
2. Books
3. Paper
4. What she calls kimono, which is really the regional element that she cannot escape
5. Sentimental

Taking all wearables and putting them in a pile would overwhelm me.  I think I can go through types of items in one session: polo shirts, t-shirts, dress pants, casual pants, short pants, and the like.  Making part of a house, or even a bed, unusable makes no sense other than forcing the person to make decisions.  I am not going to do disruptive stuff.  She starts with clothing sorting each episode, as that probably gives the biggest bang for effort, and discarded clothing has ample charitable destinations.  Books also don't have great sentimental value, though destinations for the ones removed are sometimes difficult to find, other than the recycling center for paperbacks.

While I have endless sheets of paper, I also have more than ample file destinations.  While I would be better with less of it, writing a file folder label, sticking it onto a folder, putting the paper in it and alphabetizing the files goes easily.

But ultimately, what generates her popularity, or at least what I think is the deserved part of it, is the process that gives the best return on effort.

I have basement and My Space utilization as this cycle's Semi-annual initiatives.  The basement entails discarding things.  My Space, though, is really more about relocating stuff, either to storage spaces already part of My Space or to storage in other parts of my house.  To do this, I have to address where else might be better.  So my half of the bedroom closet, dominated by clothing, bedroom cubes also dominated by clothing, and the bathroom closets dominated by things essentially unusable.  I can pace myself through these while also modifying the Kondo Method for the books of My Space.

And I get to keep the loose leafs, road maps, pens, and briefcases.  But not all the ties and reconsider the mugs.

Recapturing Bedroom Space

One of the tenets of favorable sleep hygiene is to restrict what you do in the bedroom and when you do it.  I have been working on this for a few months with gratifying outcome, though incomplete outcome.  There are now set get up times, which I follow and lights out times which I follow too.  Sleep cycles come in predictable periodicity, though mine conclude with a period of wakefulness before transitioning to the next cycle.  The experts say that when that happens, I should set a deadline for falling back asleep into the next cycle but go to a different place if still awake by that deadline.  I've not been doing that, but eventually the next cycle takes over.  And I feel better.

Master suites that realtors show customers or appear in those dream house photos offer a lot more to a bedroom than a place to sleep.  For many it emerges as their sanctuary, with electronics, sitting areas, usually with a bathroom alcove offering sensory luxury, storage space which offers access to the things you want and hiding to the things you don't.  My own bedroom has never developed its potential, and the sleep hygiene experts seem to be hinting that maybe it shouldn't.  Yet I set myself a mission of at least making that space more visually attractive and conducive to other activities.  Clutter has to go.  I've worked on it with some success.  Several years ago I bought a leather recliner, inexpensive but comfortable that too often becomes one more flat surface to put things.  Yesterday, I set a very tangible goal of removing those things, putting myself in the chair, allowing it to swivel, and ultimately reclining.  It felt good.  I could have read but didn't, though the intent was to not read in bed, which I did, but at least the book was worth reading.  I recaptured some floor.  Not all of it but some.  Vacuuming by end of week.

The daunting project may be the windows.  One has been stuck for years, should be repaired but maybe not worth the effort.  Temperature control has been solved with a window air conditioner that not only offers a refreshing breeze in cool months but white noise suitable for sleep, which is the purpose of that room.  For some reason, the duct work of the house does not bring central climate control to the master suite very well, so I purchased an attractive space heater which needs to be moved from its storage corner to its prominent and functional fall and winter location.  That corner can be occupied by an attractive storage bin, currently used for extra hangers, suitable for now but not the best option.  I am also committed to replacing the curtains.  Joann Fabrics not very helpful as what I need is the tailoring more than the choice of materials.  Lined curtains, hemmed all around, matching valance, suitable for the adequate rods already present.  Choice of fabric is almost an afterthought.  I could see what might be available online if I don't make reasonable progress locally.

And there is the closet.  Any realtor showing our house would point to the master bedroom walk-in closet.  Unfortunately walk-in implies open floor space which has been co-opted by a where it fits at the moment ethos.  To be recaptured.  I started decluttering the closet in the Marie Kondo mode, doing great on suits and sportscoats.  A lot of dress shirts don't really fit if I have to button the collar for a tie, will get me by sans tie.  They now cost a lot of money to launder, so I should dispose of some.  The Kondo Method requires all to come out at once, select for discard at once, before moving on.  Not worth it for what I need to do with the closet to bring my bedroom to fully functional and mostly restful.  

While it is my bedroom, it is really only half my bedroom.  Not being disruptive remains a priority, though one often in conflict with acting with the end in mind.  But there's still plenty I can do without generating anyone else's wrath.  Those are the things to pursue.

Trying on Suits

Wanting to mainly minimize the estate sale burden to my descendants but also live a little better now, I entered into a modified KonMari project to minimize my possessions.  She starts with the most emotionally neutral, clothing.  While it is impractical for me to put everything made of cloth on a surface at once, I can put categories in a more manageable pile.  I started with sports jackets that include suits, some of which I've not work for a while.  My tuxedo jacket still fits.  A few previous staples have no prospect for expert tailoring.  I tried on the jackets, separating into subcategories:  serviceable but need to try on pants, maybe a little tight but can be worn open if pants are adequate, give away, keep and return to closet.  Fairly equal outcomes.  I have tuxedo shirts to try on.  Since I usually have some notice of when I will need to wear something of this type, pants from suits can be altered later.  Pants set aside with sport coats that don't fit probably are not worth altering since I have dress pants of neutral colors that fit.  Dress clothing really doesn't give me joy though at times the status it projects might.  I have some tuxedo shirts with this.  Try them on.  Good enough for one occasion, they stay, collar too tight they go.  I know well in advance when I will need one and can order one that fits.  It will last until I gain too much weight, which will probably be within the interval of the next wearing.

I set aside lab coats as sentimental, though they probably aren't.  Then ties.  Sometimes ties bring me joy, though I hardly ever wear one.  If I can get through clothing within three months, I can tackle books by year's end. 

Seasonal Clothing Exchange

We have a Netflix subscription, utilized by my wife but worth some curiosity on my part.  I accessed it for the first time, selecting a show of Marie Kondo helping some empty nesters remove world class levels of clutter far in excess of the impressive amount that we have accumulated.  Her method starts with purging clothing, something that I do rarely, mostly at year's end to donate to Goodwill things that have no hope of ever fitting again.

However, twice a year I exchange clothing to match seasonal weather.  Wrong season gets stored in a large duffle back and a vacuum collapsible plastic bag.  The exchange took place this week.  I have more shorts than I am likely to wear, more t-shirts than I am likely to wear and maybe a few more knit collared shirts than I really need, particularly the nicer ones that I used to wear to work on Fridays.  On the return side, I essentially wore no sweaters this winter.  Most long sleeve foldable shirts with or without collar got worn at least once.  I have no reason to inventory long pants or long sleeve shirts which just stay in the closet, though some might find their way to Goodwill.  I don't think I wore any woolen pants more than once or twice.  Suits are for High Holy Days and funerals.  Probably ought to try them on.  Sports coats I wear to shul.  Ties I almost never wear anymore, even to shul but they do not take up much room.

Do any of these really bring me joy?  Can't say that they do though some evoke memories of where I remember wearing them.  But as summer approaches, it's t-shirts and shorts in abundance.  I think I will get rid of shorts that are too tight, though.

Tidying Adventure

Fads never attracted me much.  I never owned a betamax or an 8-track player.  My clothing, other than a few skinny ties along the way, never goes out of style.  My hashkafa of independence, honesty, accountability, and innovation, imported from Mayor Bloomberg's address at my son's college commencement, has a measure of eternity, one that is being challenged in current public discourse but I remain steadfast, as apparently does Hizzoner the Mayor.  It remains to be seen whether social media is also a fad, one that I latched onto, but I gave up Sermo with limited rationing and am in the process of ditto with Facebook.

Keeping neat and tidy is not a fad, one that has posed a chronic struggle.  It is unclear if my mind is organized but even if not, I can retrieve what I need from it easily.  Not quite so with the rooms of my house.  I designated one as my retreat, a six month project to create, one well under way.  Doing this requires the assistance of our bi-weekly recycling pickup and monthly state shredding service.  I am still committed to doing this, with real progress.  I can now sit at my desk, turn on lights, walk to the window and see space in the two closets.  Missing brackets to hold the variable position bookshelves have been replaced, allowing more books on the shelves and fewer in boxes on the floor.



I brought in an organizer who took one look, told me I am not ready for an organizer but could be a contestant on one of those Clean House TV reality shows.  The latest craze in organizing has been Marie Kondo, popularized by a Netflix TV series to which I do not have access and by books that I assume she wrote herself.  She takes a different hashkafa.  Instead of doing one room at a time, which invites relocation of clutter, she organizes by type of unneeded possessions.  It is her strong recommendation to do clothing first, all rooms that have clothing, which for me would be bedroom, daughter's room, study, kitchen, the two halls, living room, and if there is stuff in the washer/dryer then laundry room too.  Agree with her that I am not attached to most of my clothing.  However the barrier to my goal of having a retreat is paper and space in that room.  Relocating the paper fulfills the goal even if it adds clutter someplace else.

What to keep makes this a fad.  She advises keep stuff that speaks favorably to you.  Stuff does not have emotional content.  I have emotional content.  Stuff is utility and convenience.  Occasionally it is value, but unless you are important enough to warrant a museum in your honor, your high school term papers still in their cover with red marks from an equally obscure teacher just won't bring a lot at auction or estate sale.  The value if any is emotional, the work that went into creating that object, writing that paper, the memory of a special time which a tangible acquisition would be intended to preserve.  I find it much harder to let go of that.  A lot of memories and work accrue by the time you reach your 60's.  However, if I really want My Space, the number of surfaces and cubic feet of the room is finite.  It needs to be a place that I will seek out. 

Marie Kondo method, no.  Biweekly recycling bin, big time.