Minimalist KonMari

My laundry, tied up by load in furoshikis

Marie Kondo's tidying book is all the rage.  It promises not only organization, but painless, persistent organization.  While part of my mind is thinking, what part of the second law of thermodynamics does Ms. Kondo not understand?, the rest is crying, is this the holy grail of tidying, will at last all be wondrously organized?

I suppose I could have spent my sabbatical ruthlessly purging my possessions, asking each one if they were a source of joy.  But I didn't. What I did do is apply a dash of KonMari to my laundry and to my office.  This violates Kondo's principles (do it all, she says, or nothing), but not mine, so off I went.  I found a one page version of her folding methods (easier than flipping through the book) here and tackled my dresser and closet.  Some worked well with the storage I had, some didn't.  Several months later, things are still tidy without a lot of mental work going into keeping them that way.

There is something of the Liturgy of the Hours in this discipline of putting things away just so.  Each day I begin again, each four week cycle ends, only to repeat.  When I cannot find the words to pray, I can open my book, and begin — like my socks, the psalms are tidy and waiting for me.