Marie Kondo, Bless Your Heart

Have you heard about the new Netflix show Tidying Up with Marie Kondo? Marie is a Japanese woman who has made tidying and organizing her life\'s work. Her method is infamously known for having you gather all of your belongings and then keeping only those things that \"spark joy.\"

If you think this woman has clearly fallen and hit her head, you might be onto something. She says herself that, after spending her childhood yearning to be the class bookshelf manager rather than other, loftier titles, she experienced a breakthrough in organizing one day, \"I was obsessed with what I could throw away. One day, I had a kind of nervous breakdown and fainted. I was unconscious for two hours. When I came to, I heard a mysterious voice, like some god of tidying telling me to look at my things more closely. And I realized my mistake: I was only looking for things to throw out. What I should be doing is finding the things I want to keep. Identifying the things that make you happy: that is the work of tidying.\"

Well, Lord have mercy, Marie. I realize your \"breakthrough\" came from a moment of fainting and could very well be the result of a head injury, but it is not the method for me. Come to think of it, I\'m willing to bet this tidying up business won\'t sit well with anyone from the South, and I don\'t even really need to elaborate beyond the words knick knacks, but for those of you who need more clarification, I\'ll tell you why this Marie Kondo thing is a bigger bunch of hooey than chain letters or Crystal Pepsi.

Southerners feel the need to collect: be it figurines, tea cups, thimbles, t-shirts, coins, guns, fishing lures, car parts, street signs, or college football memorabilia, to name a scant few. I won\'t say we lean towards being hoarders, but I will say we prefer to surround ourselves with lots of trinkets and nostalgia and we do not easily \"tidy up,\" as our dear friend Marie likes to call it. We don\'t want to be tidy, we want to be kitschy. If your Nana leaves you her deviled egg plate when she passes, and you already own two deviled egg plates, do you not accept this inheritance? Nonsense. there is room in every good life for multiple deviled egg plates. And commemorative coins, dolls, coffee mugs...well, you know where I\'m going with this.

Collectibles, knick knacks, dust catchers...whatever you call them, Southerners can\'t get enough of them. Sorry, Marie.

Not all of our belongings would pass the \"does it spark joy?\" test, but that doesn\'t mean we should be willing to part with them. There are some things we need to have multiples of, not for joy, but for the sake of living. What if my trusty black yoga pants get a hole? I have a backup. Yoga pants that are also suitable for running errands? Check. Dog walking yoga pants? Check. I don\'t get giddy over owning all these stretchy yoga pants--especially when you consider the fact that I don\'t do any actual yoga, yet these pants are categorized and at the ready because they are useful. The same can be said for the approximately 78 koozies we own--some for game day tailgates, others for beach trips, and still more accumulated as souvenirs. If poor, misguided Marie thinks she can come down here and pry the koozies from our hands, she obviously has not heard about the Great Koozie Clean Out Crisis that occurred at our house back in 2015 (well, most of you haven\'t heard about this, but let me just say there was an incident, beloved koozies were thrown away in the frenzy of spring cleaning, and I\'m relieved Clint decided not to file for divorce).

Amen to that.

You\'ve also familiar with the phrase \"Southern hospitality?\" Marie, my mixer absolutely, positively, does not spark any joy for me. However, as much as I would love to tidy that hateful machine up and rid myself of its existence, I have to use it to be hospitable. People will have babies, get sick, move to new houses, lose a family member, celebrate an occasion, and that mixer will be there for the cakes that need to be baked. Some of these people I have aforementioned may or may not exactly spark joy, and we won\'t throw them away either. No, we will offer them a seat, between the cabinet with our Precious Moments figurines and the table where our spoon collection is so lovingly displayed and make them feel right at home. The bevvy of throw pillows of assorted shapes, sizes, and needle-pointed sentiments will add to their comfort, and we will even put out some of the fancy guest towels we keep stashed away for moments like this. These may not win awards for their joy, but they do get major points for congeniality.

Come to think about it, Spanx do not bring me joy...they bring me the ability to go to church on Sunday with less chance of looking like a well-dressed potato. Speaking of potatoes, the fruits and vegetables languishing in my refrigerator crisper bin are also not joy inducing, however, unless I\'m looking to completely dismantle my health and my appearance, they\'re staying. The same goes for my very unjoyful scale, the bills, the vacuum cleaner, and pretty much the entire contents of the scissor drawer in the kitchen. The idea of functioning without all these things does not paint a particularly pretty picture. Marie is very thin and presumably does not need Spanx, but everyone I know needs a good, junk-filled scissor drawer crammed with note pads, pens that won\'t write, a ball of twine, a measuring tape, refrigerator magnets not in use, and other assorted treasures.

And so, Marie, all I can say is bless your heart. You may be tidy, but you are definitely not Southern, and I just don\'t think the Kondo method is going to sweep my part of the world by storm. Now, if you\'ll excuse me, I\'ve got knick knacks to dust and a koozie collection to admire. Maybe I\'ll even go crazy and organize the scissor drawer.