One thing Marie Kondo doesn’t prepare you for is the physlcal labor of “tidying.” After spending Friday afternoon piling and sorting and bagging and folding, I collapsed into bed at 1:15 am — me, who likes to get under the covers around 10:00 – and woke achey and tired and still surrounded by little bits and pieces of my overstuffed life. It should be work, this revisiting the past and its loves and mistakes and memories. This act of letting go, and letting go again. The reverence for what truly belongs. I folded. Smoothed. Hanged. Arranged. Replaced. And finally, completed.
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