#sure kondo should be here too but i dislike kondo too much

[whosname]

[Id. Three yearbook style pictures of the customer servide department. 1. Sougo sleeping with a eye mask on. 2. Saitou Shimaru yawning big. 3. Yamazaki with a tired expression, he has an Anpan in his mouth. End Id.]

Introducing the most sleep deprived department at Gintama Inc.

[Id. 1. Hijikata, very far into his descent to madness, saying "What would it take to convince you to murder me?" 2. Sougo awakes and says with excitement "Say no more!!" while Saitou grabs him by the collar of his coat while holding a sketchbook where he wrote "NOPE!!" End Id.]

[malewifegrantaire]

The Birthday Thing

READ PART ONE HERE

PART TWO: Guess who’s coming to dinner hang out for no apparent reason (as far as Grantaire can tell)?

Combeferre had inadvertently ruined the rest of Grantaire’s week. It wasn’t his fault, of course. He couldn’t be blamed for Grantaire’s Incredibly Bad Brain. But still, “I just know Enjolras and I know he likes you” is a very reckless phrase to pepper into a conversation with someone of Grantaire’s constitution. He could hardly fall asleep that night because the words I know he likes you were clanging too loudly against the bars of the jail cell he called a mind. He didn’t mind too much though. The clanging was because Enjolras liked him, which made all of the noise sound a bit like music.

Grantaire picked out an outfit for the party and laid it out like he was a little kid excited for a school trip. Embarrassed with himself, he threw the entire outfit into his clothing hamper so he wouldn’t have to look at it lying out on his dresser anymore. Which was obviously a mistake, because now the clothes were are wrinkled and they were touching his actually dirty clothes. Which meant now he had to do a half load of laundry on a weekday, which he really didn’t like doing.

As he folded his laundry, Grantaire felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Huh. It was from Combeferre. Odd.

hey, are u free? sorry lol i am bored and wanted to know if u wanna hang out ??

Very odd. Maybe the wrong number? Just to be safe, Grantaire texted back:

grantaire is folding laundry right now, like a responsible adult.

Two texts back:

very interesting use of third person..

i can help if u want! i love 2 fold things

So this was Grantaire’s life. He used to be young and wild, and now he’s the sort of person that makes plans with people who text him sentences like “i love 2 fold things.” He typed his response.

uh, sure? might get boring, but i’ll never say no to an extra set of hands.

About fifteen minutes later, Combeferre was inside of Grantaire’s apartment. “You got here fast.” Grantaire said.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Aren’t you always?”

Combeferre took in Grantaire’s apartment, which gave Grantaire such a wave of self-consciousness that he thought he might be sick. It was a fine apartment, kept clean mostly because Grantaire hardly spent any time in it. The ceilings were far too low for Combeferre.

“This is a really nice place.” Combeferre said. “Have you lived here long?”

“Five years, I think.” Grantaire said. “I think the landlord thought I’d have left by now, but, well. I’m still here.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s nice. Good windows. Not easy to come by.”

Grantaire laughed at that. “Hey, was there something you wanted to talk about? Or are you just here to admire my big beautiful windows?”

Combeferre looked slightly embarrassed. “Uh, the latter, I guess.” he said. “I mean, just what I texted, I was bored, and I guess . . . I don’t know. I guess I thought we could just hang out?”

Now it was Grantaire’s turn to be embarrassed. Of course. Combeferre is the sort of person who’s actually, you know, decent. He was just trying to be nice and Grantaire was accusing him of having an ulterior motive. Way to go. Grantaire cleared his throat. “Well, thanks for coming. Feel free to park wherever. I only did a half load of laundry so I’m finished folding, sorry. I know how much you love to fold.”

“I went through a very intense Marie Kondo phase.” Combeferre grinned. “Let me know if you ever need your closet to be reorganized.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Grantaire said. It was dawning on him that, being more of the roaming type than the nesting type, Grantaire almost never had people over his apartment, and therefore had very little hosting experience. So he did what he always did in situations like this - said what people say in movies and books and all that.

“Can I offer you a beverage of some kind? I’ve got . . . tap water. And orange juice. And maybe beer?”

“I’m alright, thanks.” Combeferre said kindly. Combeferre’s fridge was probably fully stocked with sparkling water in every flavor for guests to sip on, the bastard. He sat down in a little chair by the kitchenette. “What, what is it?” he asked, looking at Grantaire’s expression. “Why are you - what’s funny?”

“Everything is too small for you in here. It’s like shoving a Barbie doll into a Polly Pocket house.” Grantaire said with a laugh. Combeferre tucked his long legs a bit closer to himself.

“Well, Barbie is a good role model, so I’ll take that.”

“I think an averaged sized woman or two might disagree. Anyways, you’ve got impeccable timing.”

“What do you mean?” Combeferre inquired.

“I mean that someone must have wanted us to hang out today. God, the Fates, some non-denominational arbiter of Destiny.” Grantaire was doing that thing he always did where he ended sentences in a way that begged the listener to ask him to explain himself. Why he chose to speak in these irritating circles? We will likely never know. Grantaire sure as hell didn’t.

Combeferre rolled his eyes, but he seemed more amused than annoyed. “You’re impossible.”

“It’s been said before.” was Grantaire’s reply. “What I mean to say is I’m literally never home. Not literally-literally, but, you know. This apartment is basically a glorified storage unit that I visit when there is absolutely nothing else to do. So the fact that you happened to be passing by on a laundry day...”

“... a work of divine intervention?” Combeferre finished.

“I’d go so far as to call it a miracle if I believed in that sort of thing.” Grantaire said.

Combeferre’s next question caught Grantaire off-guard somewhat. “So you’re an atheist, then?”

Grantaire had never actually seen a shrink, but he had the passing sensation of being sprawled out on some brown leather fainting sofa. Maybe that’s what this was, a psych eval. He’d get a message from the official Les Amis de l’ABC e-mail account later in the week saying “sorry, R, you’ve been deemed mentally unfit to be a part of this organization. We know the Musain is public property, but if you could avoid the premises during our scheduled meeting times we all think that’d be for the best.”

“Well, yeah, aren’t all of the lefties heathens nowadays? At least that’s what Twitter tells me.” he said. His paranoia would not rob him of his (debatable) sense of humor.

Combeferre just shrugged. “I guess if I had to call myself something I’d say I’m agnostic.”

“Huh!” Grantaire said, genuinely surprised. “A member of the ‘namby-pamby, mushy pap, weak-tea, weedy, pallid fence-sitter’ brigade, are we?”

Two things occurred to Combeferre at once: One, that Grantaire was quoting Richard Dawkins, and two, that Grantaire could not have been certain that Combeferre would recognize the quote when he said it. Grantaire was both the sort of person that committed Dawkins to memory and the sort that didn’t really care if someone mistook his references for a string of improvised insults. The more Grantaire spoke, the more Combeferre became aware of how little speaking they’d ever done.

“I guess I just think one can never be sure.” Combeferre said.

Grantaire thought now would be a good time for a subject change. “So, how is party planning going?” he asked.

Combeferre sighed. “It’s . . . it’s going.” he said. “Well, okay, I’m being dramatic. Courfeyrac is actually the one doing most of the planning. I just get weird about stuff like this. I want Enjolras to like everything, you know?”

“I don’t think Enjolras is capable of disliking anything you do.” Grantaire said in a way that to the untrained ear might sound like a veiled insult, but that Combeferre suspected was an attempt at genuine sincerity.

“Well, thanks.” Combeferre smiled gratefully. “I just want him to have a good time.”

“He will. It’s the rest of us you’ll have to work to entertain.”

“Well, Courfeyrac has a slew of party games he’s preparing. Oh, and, uh, Enjolras mentioned he’s glad you’ll be able to make it. By the way.” Combeferre said, which made Grantaire blush, which made Combeferre smile.

Grantaire hated that. Not just when Combeferre did it, when any of them did. Making faces or little comments, as if they were in on some big secret. It’s like they were proud of themselves for noticing Grantaire’s little crush, like they knew something funny or scandalous or cute. But they didn’t know anything, not really. Grantaire didn’t have a crush on Enjolras at all. It was more like a religion. Maybe he’d been too quick to brand himself an atheist earlier.

His annoyance with Combeferre soured the rest of their conversation. He became mean, curt, and downright humorless. This wasn’t at all fair, he knew. Grantaire probably annoyed Combeferre every third sentence (maybe every third word) and that had never stopped Combeferre from being his usual amiable self. There was another difference between the two: Grantaire lacked both grace and graciousness, and Combeferre, it seemed, never ran out of either.

“Well, I guess I should be leaving.” Combeferre said after a while, rising from the squat chair he was sitting in.

“I guess.”

“Uh, thank you for having me over. We should do this again some time. I had fun.” Combeferre lied.

Grantaire smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “Yeah, why don’t we all do brunch some time? You can bring your friends, it’ll be a real party. Everyone can sit around admiring my huge windows. What a blast!”

Combeferre knew he was joking, but he couldn’t decipher the punchline. What would be so bad about having all of their friends over for brunch? Why did he say the word “friends” like that, all sardonic and italicized? Combeferre almost asked him, but instead he just shook his head and smiled.

“Okay. Well. Bye!”

Grantaire waved lazily. “See you around.”

Under normal circumstances, the phrase “Enjolras mentioned he’s glad you’ll be able to make it” would have found itself fluttering in the pit of Grantaire’s stomach. Instead, there was something else sitting in there. Something that felt a bit like failure, a bit like guilt, and - most surprising of all - a bit like affection.

This is precisely why he didn’t like having people over.

[midnight-in-town]

BTW I still can’t get over the fact that Sorachi-sensei gave us the Love Potion arc, because it’s one of the best written comedy arcs of the whole series: I love how you can either take it at face value and say it doesn’t mean anything, or you can try to see a little beneath the surface and acknowledge how meaningful it is on some aspects, just like all the other comedy arcs. 

Knowing how popular and famous Gintama is, it’s logical that Sorachi-sensei will never voice a clear position about which ships he probably has a soft spot for, but it’s not like he gave an arc or several to all the possible ships of Gintama. And I’m not talking just about GinTsu.

For example, is it really a coincidence that the other ship getting a lil’ focus in this arc is the love triangle Kondo/Otae/Kyuubei? Is it? Considering the Dekobokko arc or even, later, Kyuubei’s own resolution along with Tsukuyo’s about being a woman and being in love, during half of ch620? Or even just Kondo’s failed gorilla marriage in the last arc?

I don’t think so. :)

(more rambling under read more)

Anyway the whole arc is presented as being comic relief and as not to be taken seriously for those who don’t like the ships it is focusing on (that’s Sensei’s skill right here), but still Sensei subverted the whole thing and that’s what’s so unbelievably cool about this arc. 

Like, I love how the introduction is that “whoever smells the aizen kou drug will fall in love with the first person they see” but even tho’ he applied that to Kagura and Shinpachi for a short while, Sensei ended up throwing even that to the bin, especially when you see how the arc went for Tsukuyo and Kyuubei.

The first thing Tsukuyo saw was Gintoki’s dick after she smelled the drug but the whole arc is about realizing her feelings for Gintoki, the man. 

On the contrary, you have Kyuubei who ended up going after dicks for most of the arc (no matter who the guys were), even tho’ I doubt that she actually saw a forest of dicks right after she smelled the drug.  

So it’s interesting how Sensei adjusted the very first rule of the arc to eventually make it about what he wanted to explore for his characters. 

Even when you see the monologues for Otae and Kyuubei, it does seem to reflect what their personal arc is revolving around: Otae always had conflicted feelings to sort out about Kondo; Kyuubei always had this hesitation about whether to live as a man or a woman (until she made her final choice in ch620).

Granted that poor Kondo himself is often reduced to comic relief, but it should be pointed out that his monologue only reached us after Otae kinda manhandled him so, ahem, hard to have any conclusion on what he said, even if it’s not like his feelings about Otae needed any clarification. :)

It gets trickier for Gintoki because, on the one hand you could argue that “he smelled so much of the drug that he lost his sense of reason” (something I’m sure a lot of readers who disliked this arc did), but on the other, why shouldn’t he also get serious/honest moments in this arc about his own feelings when everyone else did?

Sensei is just way too good at hiding these moments amidst all the jokes, so that no one can complain about him having a soft spot for a few ships in particular. 

Anyone who’d argue that Gintoki was never serious once in this arc is just shooting their own foot actually, because Tsukuyo acted way unlike herself because of the drug several times and so did Otae, Kyuubei and Kondo. 

So even though Gintoki did/said stupid stuff because of the drug, if everyone else did too but also got to face/admit about some of their inner feelings, then it’s logical to think that the same happened with Gin. 

And that’s what’s so amazing about how Sensei wrote this arc: I’m not saying that this arc is implying GinTsu is ever going to get canon (tbh I doubt it, even if Tsukuyo is the one who got the most focus about her feelings for Gintoki out of everyone), but to say that Gintoki has literally 0 interest in Tsukuyo would be misreading in my opinion.

If anything we already know that she’s physically his type (that pool episode/chapter with the Shogun) xD 

Anyway, Gintoki has way too many issues about not wanting things to change + being scared of getting too attached to many people (because of everything that happened with Shoyo and the consequences of his choice back then) that this arc could only go max comic relief in appearance, as far as he was concerned.  

Since the last arc is finally targeting Gintoki’s whole emotional trauma surrounding his choice towards Shoyo back during the war though, I guess that if Sensei wanted, he could choose to hint towards a Gin ship maybe becoming canon at the very end after daily life kicks in again, but as I said I doubt that, mostly because of the massive ship wars (tho I’m also all for Gin/Hasegawa :)).  

Final thing: if anyone were to argue that this arc is only comic relief and can’t be taken seriously on some aspects, then I guess they wouldn’t see the homeless arc and its heavy focus on Katsura’s complicated dynamic with Ikumatsu as being literally the same thing but in another context, because Zura just didn’t need the aizen kou.

Just like Hijikata didn’t need it either when it came to Mitsuba. 

tl;dr Sensei is good at crafting the tone of his arcs depending on what he wants to address for his characters and that obviously includes the love potion arc, which is in my opinion one of the best examples of a comedy arc that’s actually hiding a lot of meaningful stuff. 

An arc is hardly ever a stand-alone in Gintama anyway, so the love potion arc can’t be meaningless if what took place ended up having consequences at some later time (like ch620 or even the last arc, post time skip).

Dissecting the narrative isn’t going to lead anywhere: no one “has to” ship Gintsu or enjoy the Kondo/Otae/Kyuubei triangle, but let’s not pretend that the characters are oblivious to each other and that comedy arcs can’t strengthen their feelings, whatever they are.

[theliterateape]

Birthday Reflections of a Year in Lockdown

By David Himmel

I read a meme or a post or some kind of thing on the Faceborg the other day that said, “Tradition is just peer pressure from dead people.” It struck me because, like many of us, tradition was a big thing in my house growing up. Often used as a guilt magnifier to help hone good behavior. And I like it because if this past year has showed us anything it’s that the only tradition really worth maintaining for whatever possible reason is change.

Things change. Things need to change. Evolution > Tradition.

That said, I also like the tradition I lifted from Don Hall, which is to write an essay on one’s birthday about the things one has learned on their most recent trip around the orange fireball at the center of our lonely little solar system. And Don Hall is not dead. Yet. So, I guess this is less tradition and more, um, inspired peer pressure.

I’ve been at this shit for forty-two full years now. It’s been mostly fun. There were those three years at the tail end of my twenties that nearly killed me but I came out of them with a novel and the ability to shoot tequila. So, you know, win. And, I managed to forge a few really solid friendships despite the alcoholic and depressed cloud that surrounded me much like Pig-Pen’s cloud of dirt. I’m long past those Dark Days, and yet, I still manage to bring them up in casual conversation or pre-dawn essay writing. And that is a perfect way to dive into the things I’ve learned this past year.

I am extremely and arguably absurdly emotionally attached to things This is more of a reminder, or a reinforcement of what’s blindingly obvious to me. This personality quirk—or defect, depending on who you are and how you choose to look at me—is flexing pretty hard right now as we plan to move from this apartment of eight years to a new house in a new Chicago neighborhood. Moving is the perfect time to purge and I’m just not sure I can bid farewell to things I know I’ll have to leave behind. Yeah, yeah, I know all about the Marie Kondo thing of items sparking joy. But I go one deeper: Keep items that spark reference. Maybe I should have been a museum curator instead of a writer and creative director. Because to me, just about everything is worthy of historical preservation. That includes a pair of boxer briefs I bought over twenty-one years ago. (More on that in another forthcoming essay.) It’s not that I’m incapable of throwing things out, it’s just that it’s harder for me than most. But when I reach the stage of acceptance that some history is best preserved in one’s mind and the time comes to put something behind me or on the curb, I do so with abandon and a swiftness unmatched. Done is done. Maybe I’ll write about it. Maybe it’s the next novel.

Writing takes a different kind of energy now When the idea of being a writer was a goal, I could churn out typed pages for days all while wearing a big smile on my face. Then I started to get paid for it. Then work got busy. Then the kid woke up. Then the dog had to go out. Then… then… then… I’ve spent the last year or so retraining myself to be a writer. Yes, I can still do it and I do, but it has since come to feel like another responsibility, another piece of accountability I lug around like Marley’s chains. Inspiration fits differently on this overtly domesticated body.

I really like He-Man But not in the gay way. Although there’s nothing wrong with that. The Masters of the Universe was my favorite cartoon and my favorite toys when I was only slightly older than my son is now. This year, Mattel released all new Masters of the Universe origin figures. I saw He-Man and Skeletor hanging on a shelf in Target one day and just about lost my mind. These figures are now fully poseable and, well, I needed them. I took a photo and sent it to my good friends Dr. Jarret Keene and Don Hall teasing them with, “My birthday is coming up!”—it was, like, February. The next day, an Amazon box arrived at my place. In it was He-Man, Skeletor, and fucking Battle Cat! Jarret sent me an early birthday present. Do I play with these things? Yep! It’s a great way to procrastinate. It completely removes my mind from the work at hand, the horrors of the news, and the blood-boiling stupidity of social media’s doom scrolling.

Shortly after I received these toys, I realized that He-Man has been a constant all my life. I own the entire series on DVD and have for decades. My favorite dish in the house is a plastic Masters of the Universe plate that’s older than my baby brother and is completely dishwasher safe. I have a Lordi band t-shirt stylized like the Masters of the Universe logo. I still think Evil-lyn is hotter than Teela, and I’ll argue to my death that the 1987 live-action Masters of the Universe film starring Dolph Lundgren and Frank Langella as He-Man and Skeletor respectively is the greatest project Courtney Cox has ever participated in. Speaking of…

Friends still sucks The jokes, most storylines, and character developments beyond season four do not hold up. It’s almost like those episodes were written by out of touch white baby boomers. Oh, yeah, they were.

I need to pause and be proud of myself every now and again I’ve never been one to rest on their laurels. And I’ve never been one for daily affirmations or being really proud of making little steps toward a big goal. I’m not that shallow or weak. But being asked to write for The Atlantic and the President of the United States is pretty cool—and kind of a big deal. 

Our marriage should be good There’s never really a good time for anyone to put their marriage on coast, but I think we’ll be okay. At least for a little while, the need to panic over the state of our affairs is behind us. Katie and I managed to get through (most) of a global pandemic going into it a little burned out from parenthood and personal failings, but here we are, getting along better and generally pretty excited for the future of things. Maybe Katie has a different perspective on things. I don’t know. We don’t talk much. 

I do have Hollywood looks Despite how much I dislike my big nose and my twisted, bony frame, I always felt I was at least mostly good looking. Maybe even good looking by Hollywood standards. Tell me I don’t look like Adrian Brody or Steve Carrell or Mr. Bean or the new Elliot Page. I swear, I saw this photo of Page and my first thought was, “Holy shit, Elliot page has a picture of me in a Las Vegas pool in 2003. That’s weird.”

I’ve become almost perfectly comfortable with my discomfort with my American Judaism Too much to unpack right here right now. But I’m confident by age forty-three, I’ll have no problem telling American Zionists to fuck themselves in the face with an Uzi with the same passion I’d tell a Trump-supporting, Capitol-storming racist to fuck themselves with their stupid Confederate flags.

Paying attention pays off It’s easy to pay close attention to my son growing up. That’s the warning everyone gives new parents: pay attention because the time goes by so fast. I keep a good eye on the kid and his development and I try to appreciate all of the little moments. Thankfully, I have the Literate ApeCast as a solid documentation of this very thing. But paying close attention to your children makes it real easy to forget about yourself. And your partner. I’ve had to learn to pay better attention to everyone’s development in my household. Myself included. Keeping one eye on yourself helps keep you grounded, focused, and on task to be the Master of the Universe just like you always wanted to be.

 Keep going, kid, you’re not an old man yet.

[thisishowyouletgoandfindyou-blog]

Recommended by

Richard Reis

and 27 others

Richard Reis

"I write this not for the many, but for you; each of us is enough of an audience for the other." - Epicurus http://richardreis.me/May 16How Less Helps You Do More — Minimalism And Your Brain

Hello dear,

By the end of this letter, you’ll know something that’ll make you wealthier, but also think better.

This knowledge changed my life. I’m excited to share it with you.

Many of my friends know this, but minimalism is something I have been a big fan of for quite some time.

Now, I hate calling it “minimalism” because the word comes loaded with whatever past meaning you attached to it.

So from here on, whenever I say “minimalism” I want you to think “no clutter” or “no sh*t lying around”. Whichever you prefer.

With that big, fat, elephant out of the way, we can begin.

Why minimalism?

Two reasons:

I believe it’s an amazing “brain-enhancing” technique.

It saves a ton of money (this is, after all, a finance series).

I think #2 is self explanatory. Let’s dig deeper into #1, it’s very important.

Why is minimalism an amazing brain-enhancing technique?

“A messy room equals a messy mind”.

As it turns out, that’s true.

Psychologist (check out the insane CV) Dr. Jordan Peterson’s favorite advice is “clean your room”.

In fact, Dr. Peterson gets letters from people telling him how cleaning their room changed their life!

I’ve experienced the benefits personally, and it works.

Here’s a direct quote from Peterson:

“My sense is that if you want to change the world you start from yourself and work outward because you build your confidence that way.

I don’t know how you can go out and protest the structure of the entire economic system if you can’t keep your room organized. […]

The world presents itself as a series of puzzles, some of which you’re capable of solving and some of which you’re not. You have many puzzles in front of you that you could solve but you choose not to. Those really are the things that weight on your consciousness, knowing ‘oh I should do this’, but you don’t.[…]

It’s like, don’t be fixing up the economy, 18 year-olds. You don’t know anything about the economy. It’s a massive complex machine beyond anyone’s understanding and you mess with it at your own peril. Can you even clean up your own room? No. Well, you should think about that.

Because if you can’t even clean up your own room, who the hell are you to give advice to the world?” — Dr. Jordan B Peterson

I couldn’t agree more.

Sidenote: This may seem odd, but I have a hypothesis as to why minimalism/ cleaning your room is effective for better thinking.

This insight came to me from meditation. I know that when someone meditates effectively, the brain regions known as Default Mode Network’s (DMN) activity diminishes. These regions are what make you ‘daydream’ (aka not focus): “I shouldn’t have said that to Bob this morning”, “I regret not asking that girl for her number”, “that a**hole who cut me in the freeway last week could have killed me”. Meditating (basically) shuts down those voices and allows you to focus on the present (which makes you more effective).

Soooo doesn’t the same brain activity increase when your place is messy? “oh I should vacuum this floor”, “those dishes look dirty”, “damn, my closet is a mess”.

My hypothesis: A messy place increases activity in the DMN, which doesn’t allow you to focus 100% (making you less effective). This could explain why when you ‘go minimal’, you focus better (and most people say it’s life-changing).

If everyone had a clean room/ apartment/ house, the world would be a better place 🙂 (I just gave a great PhD thesis for some neuroscience student out there).

Do you understand the importance of minimalism now?

If you’re home, perfect! Look around you, is there something you’ve been meaning to clean? Does opening your closet stress you out?

This physical clutter is probably also cluttering your brain. Hence why you can’t focus.

If so, what follows is tactical advice that will help you clean in record time.

When should you “go minimal”?

Many bloggers will tell you to start slow and gain momentum.

This… may work.

Unfortunately it didn’t work for me. And I believe it won’t work for you either.

Why? Most people are lazy when it comes to tidying (come on, how long have you been thinking about organizing your mess?)

Therefore, the best solution I found came from the ginormously popular book, “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing” by Marie Kondō.

In case you don’t know Marie, here’s a nice summary from Tim Ferriss’ awesome (recent) interview with her:

“Her books have sold more than seven million copies and have been published in more than forty countries.

Kondo’s methods have become so famous that her last name has become a verb, ‘Kondo-ing,’ and people who share her specific values are referred to as ‘Konverts.’ She has been named one of Time Magazine’s 100 most influential people.”

Yeah, wow.

Marie’s philosophy is much closer to mine. If you want to declutter your life, pick one day and do it all at once.

“When you tidy your space completely, you transform the scenery. The change is so profound that you feel as if you are living in a totally different world. This deeply affects your mind and inspires a strong aversion to reverting to your previously cluttered state. The key is to make the change so sudden that you experience a complete change of heart. The same impact can never be achieved if the process is gradual.” — Marie Kondō

How to declutter1. Pick a day

Pick a day, any day. And start early in the morning (this will energize you).

“But I’m too busy.”

I think that most people who are “too busy” miraculously have enough time for other things like cable TV or Netflix.

Unless you have 5 kids, work 3 jobs, and are a single parent, you’re not “too busy”.

“Too busy” is also a polite way of saying “this isn’t a priority for me”. But if you weren’t convinced from the intro that cleaning IS a priority, chances are you’re just being lazy.

2. Put it all on the floor

If this sounds like a song title, it’s because it’s the fun part.

“Where do I start?”

Marie Kondō recommends going by categories, not rooms.

“Don’t start selecting and discarding by location. Don’t think “I’ll tidy the bedroom first and then move on to the living room” or “I’ll go through my drawers one by one starting from the top down.” This approach is fatal. Why? Because most people don’t bother to store similar items in the same place.” — Marie Kondō

The correct sequence she recommends is this: clothes, books, papers, miscellaneous items, and mementos.

Go around your house looking for everything that fits in each category (and put it all together at once on the floor).

Don’t touch items in a category unless you’re done with the previous category. There are many reasons for this (though too long to include here), if you really want the details get Marie’s book. If not, just trust me.

Easy.

3. Discard

“Now I have every item in a category on the floor, what do I do?”

This is what makes Marie so special. She talks about the concept of “sparking joy”.

Grab each item one by one, and ask yourself “does this spark joy?” If it doesn’t, it goes in a trash bag.

“Why does this work?”

Because (this might blow your mind), people own things they don’t really like! *gasp*

I know right? People actually have clothes, shoes, books and/or other items in their homes that they don’t really like all that much.

This is why I like minimalism; everything you own is something you love.

I love my “uniform” (I wear the same clothes every day), I love my whiteboard, I love my yoga mat, heck I even love my blender!

I don’t understand why people keep their closets full of clothes they “kinda” like, their kitchen full of ugly utensils they dislike, and their bookshelves full of books they’ll never read.

This is why you have to look at each item and ask yourself, “do I love this?” (or, even cuter, Marie Kondō’s “does this spark joy?”) and if the answer is “kinda” or “no”, in the trash bag it goes.

By the end of this, some people end up with 10+ full trash bags (I’ve been there).

Getting rid of them is an AMAZING feeling. You’ll see.

4. Store

I don’t mean in a storage unit (how dare you).

I mean now that you only kept things you love, find a place for them and organize them well.

Here’s an example with clothes.

That’s it. That’s my entire wardrobe (year-long baby).

I just picked what I like best, and stuck with it.

Going to a high-school where we all wore uniforms taught me it’s soooo much more convenient than having to worry about what to wear every day. This is why I wear a “uniform” to this day. Besides, Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, and Obama made it cool (so I’m not “weird” anymore I’m “avant-garde”).

Sidenote: Wondering where I got those sweet folding skills? Learn how Marie Kondō does it here (t-shirts and tank tops), here (pants), here (sweaters and hoodies), and here (socks and stockings). Hell has a special place for people who occupy space hanging clothes than can be neatly folded.

Common But’sBut what if I want to buy something new?

The idea should be for you to only own things you love (what a concept).

Stop accumulating, surround yourself only with your favorite stuff.

I’m sure most people wear 20% of their wardrobe 80% of the time.

Therefore, why not keep the 20% you love and get rid of the rest?? You’re not really using it anyways and it’s cluttering your space and mind.

The end result is for you to only be surrounded by the things you love (or… spark joy).

This also means most of your items will be high quality.

Now I’m not saying own as little as possible (we can’t all be enlightened like the Buddha, or Jesus).

What I am saying is a lot of your purchases were impulsive, kinda like stress eating. Except instead of accumulating fat, you accumulated clutter.

The clutter is stressing you out. Get rid of it, and see what I mean.

But I’m a girl

Sidenote: This is a common “but” I’ve heard very often from different friends who all happen to be female. So, I have to include it.

Until further DNA evidence, being a girl doesn’t mean you have to have lots of clothes. To prove it, here’s the awesome YouTuber, LightByCoco, showing the concept of a capsule wardrobe.

You might “enjoy” shopping. But re-read the intro and see why it’s never a good idea to surround yourself with clutter.

I’ve found that guys and girls tend to wear their same favorite clothes over, and over, and over again.

So, get rid of all that other stuff you never really wear! Your mind (and closet) will thank you.

But I don’t have enough space for all my stuff, I live in a small apartment

So do I. Living in a small apartment doesn’t mean anything.

It just means you have way more crap than you need. And that’s a bad, bad habit.

It simply means that even if your house looked like this (look at that space! And no clutter! Wow):

You’d still find a way to make it look like this:

Messy people are messy independently of where they live.

Most people see empty rooms and feel the need to fill, “oh some flowers would look nice here”, “oh maybe I need a lamp”, “I wonder if I need paintings on the wall”.

Stop!

That’s how you end up with a ton of items you don’t like that much. Stop the madness.

But I have kids

The “I have a partner and kids” is a bad excuse.

Joshua Becker is a minimalism blogger who’s married and has two kids. He’ll prove anyone who uses the “I don’t live alone” excuse is wrong.

But my roommates are messy

I’m a big fan of leading by example.

Begin with yourself. Clean your mess. Others will follow.

I shared a 3 bedroom house with 18 people. I found that when I tried to keep things clean, others would follow.

It wasn’t always perfect, but it’s better than blaming others.

But can’t I store most of it in a storage unit?

You’re just trolling me.

Kidding, but what about rebound?

I’ll let Marie Kondō answer this one.

“Rebound occurs because people mistakenly believe they have tidied thoroughly, when in fact they have only sorted and stored things halfway. If you put your house in order properly, you’ll be able to keep your room tidy, even if you are lazy or sloppy by nature.” — Marie Kondō

Sometimes (I mean once or twice a year), I may end up with a little more stuff than I need. Recently, after losing 35lbs I kept large clothes that are too big now, for no good reason!

No one’s perfect.

The key is to simply grab your trash bags and get to work 🙂

But, trash-bags?? Does that mean I should throw everything away?

Of course not, here’s what I do:

Try to sell it on eBay. If no one wants it after 30 days I:

Give it to Goodwill if it’s clothes.

Give it to the local thrift store if it’s other items (books, gadgets, CD’s…)

Throw it in the trash if it’s too much trouble.

But never, never, ever just leave stuff lying around.

And that’s it for today!

Today, we learned:

The amazing psychological benefits of a clean space.

How to declutter.

How to organize.

How not to make excuses for owning a bunch of things you don’t even like.

See you next week, be well.

R

P.S.: It turns out decluttering doesn’t only help the individual, it can benefit entire cities! A friend of mine recently shared with me the Broken Windows theory.

Before 1985 New York City was as violent and dangerous as Gotham. By 2001, crime had dropped significantly (and kept dropping for the following ten years!). What led to this huge crime drop? They cleaned the city (no graffitis, no people demanding payment after car window cleaning, and no public urination… among other things).

A clean, clutter-free environment does indeed make the world a better place🙂

Your mother was right, clean your room!

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