Somewhere Between Hoarding and Kondo-ing

In 2014, Marie Kondo penned the bestselling, self-help book the life-changing magic of tidying up: the Japanese art of decluttering and organizing. Millions of GenX-ers/Millennials—progeny of run-away consumerism  and materialism in the 1980s and 90s—surprisingly welcomed this book with not only open arms but awe. To them, it was as if the idea of  purchasing clothing and household goods with a discerning eye toward usefulness and sustainability was an entirely new concept.

 

One of those GenX-ers happened to be my daughter Kristin. The best way to describe her cleaning/organizing skills as a teen is with a story. In the mid-90s, we went on a family vacation and something triggered our house alarm system. Our next-door neighbor called the police, who came and shut off the alarm and made an inspection of our house. All seemed to be in order until they reached Kristin’s room and immediately assessed it had been vandalized.

As it happens with many teens who eventually grow into responsible, mortgage-holding adults, Kristin’s housekeeping skills vastly improved over the years. When Kondo’s book came out, she became a devoted convert to the ideas of “decluttering and organizing.” 

Fast-forward eleven years, and she is still stands firm with her fellow GenX-ers in tackling another clutter problem—not their personal clutter but that of their parents. After recently helping her father-in-law downsize, she called me with an ultimatum—start right getting rid of all your junk…right now.

I’m not totally against this idea and am taking an honest stab at it. But here’s the problem: Kondo instructs her readers to keep only those things that bring them joy. If you’re fortunate enough to have lived for seventy-six years as I have, you probably have lots of things that bring you joy. Also, going by the law of averages and excluding any disasters, I still have several years of living left and can probably live most of them in my present house. There are items  (especially in the garage) that I don’t use on a regular basis, but why should I throw them away and turn around and buy them again if the occasion arises that I do need them?

I understand Kristin’s concern. I don’t blame her for not wanting to get stuck with a bunch of stuff she’ll never have use for. And I understand those things carrying sentimental value for me won’t have the same connection for her.  

My solution for this situation is the same one I apply to many other areas of life. It’s a matter of balance. Maybe our house doesn’t adhere to the current austere, minimalist style so popular with younger generations, but it isn’t so cluttered as to render it uncomfortable or dysfunctional. We can get both cars in the garage; we don’t rent a storage unit; guests don’t have to tunnel their way through our house; we can locate most items when we need them; we can still maintain our house and keep it clean and in good repair. I recently read this quote from House Beautiful magazine: "At this age, your home should look like the best version of you." This is a "balance" I can live with.

 

If and when the time arrives that Kristin will have to disperse our belongings, she can pick as many or as few as she wants to keep. Then she can call a business that handles estate sales and sell or donate the rest. Shouldn’t be that difficult.

Closing note:

Regarding that “honest stab” I took at getting rid of junk, I started in the garage. Among the clutter I removed were two tubs of Kristin’s memorabilia from high school and college. In November of 2025, I loaded them in my car and delivered them to her. I’ll keep you posted on t how much of that she throws away. (As of 2/26, she hadn't even opened the tubs. 😂)