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Let the bell sound for ROUND TWO. DING DING DING!

I have officially decluttered my apartment for the second year in a row. I have now relentlessly purged and ordered. Hallways can be traversed once more, and knick knacks have homes. My apartment finally seems like it can breath.

The impetus for decluttering was The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, by Marie Kondo. I was determined to follow her regimen strictly this year, downsizing my giant katamari-ball of stuff. If done right, Kondo promises, I will love everything in my space, ideas will come more freely, and I may even detox and lose weight. Who knew such great perks could come from throwing away excess q-tips!

Determined to declutter dogmatically, I reread Kondo's manual and referred to it as I went. "I have just finished decluttering papers. Now I must declutter komono (miscellany). I just need to beware of mementos. Mementos must be saved for last. Mementos are the downfall."


Kondo has a specific order for how one must declutter in order to emotionally tackle it. She doesn't expressly say that this is why - but this is why. Since her methodology is based on "joy sparks" in the heart, she pushes you build up some stamina and kindling before letting you tackle the dreaded mementos. Even though you may love your sister, and you love the kindness with which she bought you the green "unusual words" book, you want it gone. It carries with it a happy memory that you are thankful for, but you still want it gone. This is ok! Strictly following Kondo's rules, I thanked the book for happy memories, and shipped it to Goodwill.

In order to sense the heart's "joy sparks," Kondo demands a sensory experience. You have to fondle each item and determine if you are madly in love with it or not. In order to fully have a one on one moment with each item, you own, you should first gather all items of that type into a pile on your bed before handling each one. During this process I learned that I love lace, the color blue, patterned clothing, and black accessories. I also learned that my love of stationary runs deeper than I knew. I've been collecting postcards from everywhere I've gone since my elementary school field trips (Yea Luray Caverns!)

Discarding in this holistic way did not strike me as strange and/or revolutionary. I have always cleaned by sorting this way. However, I have not always organized in the Konmari method. For the first time, my socks do not sit in balls. My pants are stacked vertically instead of horizontally, and my books, playbills, and empty journals all live in one place.

If you'd like to declutter using the Konmari method you can follow these steps:

 1. Read The Life-Chaning Magic of Tidying Up. It's a short book. It won't take you long.

 2. Do Marie Kondo's thought exercise. Ask yourself, "What is the lifestyle that I want?" Then, ask "why" at least 3-4 times.

Here's mine: I want a creative lifestyle, with lots of color, comfort, and room to move and dance. Why? Because movement and creation make me happy. Why? Because then I've either created something beautiful on paper, or with my body. Why? Because unlike my childhood self- I want to SHARE my beauty and creations with the world. I want to be a beautiful presence in the world. Why? I mean THE WORLD. I want to travel and be able to easily do so. I'd rather experiences over material possessions. 

3. Put everything of one type in a pile and discard everything that doesn't spark joy.

4. Reorganize neatly what remains.

via GIPHY

Did I lose weight using the Konmari method? Hell, no! However, I did end up reorganizing every room in the house for better flow. I can now have company over. I've rediscovered my fossils and put them on display. My hammock has been freed from it's proximity to the litter box, and I have enough space to hula hoop. It works for me.

xIs

I have officially completed 2 "21 day meditation challenges," 1 "Global Meditation for Compassion," and months of independent meditation. I can now officially say that I have tried meditating.

I can also say that I love it. My heart feels active and uneasy when I look at facebook, or my email, in the morning. When I meditate it slows and levels it's pacing.

At first meditating was downright hard. Apparently, I am no longer used to sitting for 20 minutes straight without being in a chair. I couldn't remember mantras in sanskrit (a language that I and most other people in the 21st century don't speak). I would receive my thoughts, and then rather than stare at them in an out of body manner  and let them go- I would follow them in an out of body manner like Alice and the white rabbit. The time felt long, and as if it weren't elapsing at all. The music felt loud and domineering. Nothing about my experience involved an ease or release.

       

Meditation is a practice, however. So I practiced. I did the meditation experiences, and used the time to concurrently develop better sitting posture. I forgave myself when I would forget a mantra, and would continue with the classic fallback, "om." I brought art into the experience of watching my thoughts without engaging them. When they would come I would imagine them as watercolor bands drifting into a white box just ahead of my vision.

I began to really enjoy my meditation time and look forward to it. The negative space created by an absence of thought produced more ideas. Doing nothing produced a me that was more likely to try new things. I even created this blog. If you're considering meditating this author says, "om."

             

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Cue thunder, lightning and general creation! 7 days await to progress and impress. Here lies a space to day by day write more and more. Here lies a space to expound my travels, triumphs, and trivialities. Welcome to the lair of a renaissance woman.

The word renaissance comes from the latin roots- re + nāscī.  The prefix re occurs whenever something happens "again", and nasci tells us that something "is being born." Therefore the renaissance was a time when the spirit of the world was "born again." This occurred in art, literature, architecture, and learning. 

While the Renaissance occurred years ago for Leondardo DaVinci, and other great thinkers- the term "renaissance man" has come to refer to anyone who's learning, thinking, and experiences are varied and widespread. 

I would argue that this describes a large portion of us in the 21st century. No longer are we streamlined into a permanent career, myopic studies, or even one manner of solving math problems. We are "reborn" constantly as we perform varying portrayals of ourselves, elicit different stores of knowledge, and create with a fervor Neil Gaiman could tout. 

With this culture in mind I welcome you to my primary space of creation. Through narrative, interviews, and fiction I hope to create something beautiful and varied. Who knows, maybe this blog too will find itself in a museum one day.