Tag: Marie

Categories
Health

I Marie Kondo’d My Love Life


Ever since The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up hit bookstores in the U.S. in 2014, Marie Kondo has become a cultural phenom, her tactics shaping the way Americans evaluate their possessions and their hoarding habits. But when I first picked up Kondo’s tiny green hardcover, I thought, I’m a relatively organized person. What could I possibly learn from this book?

As it turns out: a lot—just not about my closet.

Kondo imagined her book would strike a chord with hoarders of past things, but it made me realize I was hoarding past loves. I’m a girl who’s spent more than a decade unconsciously filing away every failed relationship in the small chance that maybe one day the stars would align, I’d bump into an ex at a coffee shop, and we’d ride off into the sunset (or more realistically, on the R train) in some deleted scene from Love Actually. But as I turned the pages of Kondo’s book, I realized that holding on to these ghosts of boyfriends past was doing more harm than good—assembling a warped romantic matrix in my brain that was becoming increasingly difficult to escape. So as I finished the last chapter, knee-deep in my third bowl of Phish Food, I knew there was only one thing left to do.

I had to Marie Kondo my love life.

The KonMari method is based in the idea that you should surround yourself only with items that bring you joy; anything that doesn’t, you chuck. That’s not to say the process is an easy one. Anyone who’s watched Netflix’s Tidying Up With Marie Kondo or tried the KonMari method will tell you: Tossing something that once held sentimental value is hard. “It is human nature to resist throwing something away even when we know that we should,” Kondo explains, as if trying to make us all feel better about that feeling of inertia. “When you come across something that you cannot part with, think carefully about its true purpose in your life. You’ll be surprised at how many of the things you possess have already fulfilled their role.” Taking a long, hard look at my love life, it was clear just how many of my past relationships had “already fulfilled their role.” So I started adapting Kondo’s methods to help me emotionally declutter and achieve the ultimate dating nirvana.

Lesson one: Know when to let go. The first rule of the KonMari method is worth reiterating: If something brings you joy, keep it. If not, out it goes. She argues that when we can’t get rid of something, there are two reasons—“an attachment to the past or a fear for the future,” she writes. “If you come across something that does not spark joy but that you just can’t bring yourself to throw away, stop a moment and ask yourself, ‘Am I having trouble getting rid of this because of an attachment to the past or because of a fear for the future?’…. As you do so, you’ll begin to see…a pattern that falls into one of three categories: attachment to the past, desire for stability in the future, or a combination of both.” This hit me like a slap in the face. I‘ve done my fair share of holding on to a relationship simply because I was afraid to let go—or more frankly, afraid of the instability that would bring. I stayed with my college boyfriend after he’d cheated on me. I let a fling in my midtwenties drag on for years because he made me feel loved and important. I’m not proud to admit any of that, but it’s true. For much of my adult life, I got into the nasty habit of romanticizing my relationships, looking at them through rose-colored glasses until they morphed into flowery semblances of the truth. Like a fairy tale.

There’s a scene in the film (500) Days of Summer when a hopelessly in-love Joseph Gordon-Levitt swings by a party his crush is throwing and from there, a split screen shows two ways the next scene plays out—one titled “perception,” the other “reality.” (Spoiler: He gets the girl in one; in the other, he spends the entire party sulking in a corner.) So often I’d analyze my relationships through the lens of hopeful idealism, seeing what I wanted to see, not what was there. But just as Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s character ultimately learns, perception isn’t reality. Falling in love with the idea of someone isn’t the same as falling in love with someone, and it certainly doesn’t save you from heartbreak. If they don’t genuinely bring you joy, cut them loose.

Lesson two: Nostalgia is a bitch. In the past, the second any of my relationships ended or a Bumble date stopped messaging me back, my mind would go into hyperdrive, pulling every cheesy romantic memory into a sappy Hallmark highlight reel. When my last boyfriend and I broke up, I spent hours poring over old texts and Facebook messages, reliving our best moments in a desperate attempt to see when the cracks first started forming. (Tip: Don’t do this. It will only land you in a hopeless loop of DM convos with your lurking ex at 2:00 A.M. Not a place you want to be.) Kondo says feelings of nostalgia can and will derail the decluttering progress. Realize, instead, that your items (or in this case, relationships) have a shelf life. They brought you joy at one point, but they don’t anymore. So move on. And start getting friendly with the Instagram “block” button while you’re at it.

Lesson three: Trust your intuition. Kondo explains that judgment can be either intuitive or rational, and surprisingly, it’s our rational side that tends to make it impossible for us to let go. “Although intuitively we know that an object has no attraction for us,” she says, “our reason raises all kinds of arguments for not discarding it, such as ‘I might need it later’ or ‘It’s a waste to get rid of it.’” Going with my gut helped me weed out the relationships I instinctively knew weren’t going anywhere. Like that Hinge date who loved The Lumineers. (Just because he knows all the words to “Ophelia” does not necessarily make him The One; they have a very large fan base.) Doing this allows you to tap into a deeper understanding of who you are and what you want so you can find a partner that fulfills you—and feel more confident in your partnership once you do.

Lesson four: Practice gratitude and empathy. As odd as it sounds, Kondo wants you to consider your items’ “feelings” as you move through the tidying process. Before tossing any of your belongings, you must thank them for their service. On the flip side, if you’re keeping them, be considerate of how and where they’re kept in your home. This conscious organization supposedly leaves you with a greater sense of peace. The same goes for relationships. If you want a partner to have a permanent home in your life, act like it. If they bring you joy, tell them. It’s straightforward, really: Treat your person with the respect and care you want them to give you. If you’re letting them go, be grateful for what you learned from the relationship and tactfully move on.

Lesson five: Accept the pain. A key aspect of the KonMari method is making conscious decisions about who and what surrounds you. But being honest with yourself about how you acquire things—or relationships—can be both humbling and embarrassing. Says Kondo, “It forces us to confront our imperfections and inadequacies and the foolish choices we made in the past.” It’s not easy to look at yourself critically or to acknowledge your flaws. Going through this dating decluttering process, I realized that fear had been a major catalyst for so many of the decisions I’d made. He’s losing interest? Break up with him first. Things going well? Pull away to see if he’ll hang on. My fear of abandonment was so great that I overcompensated by trying to control the uncontrollable. But it was only when I started recognizing these patterns that I was able to start practicing healthier ones, like communicating openly and honestly about whether my trust was being tested, whether the relationship was moving at the right pace, and whether, at the end of the day, I felt valued and appreciated.

Applying Kondo’s words to my love life felt a lot like an emotional gut renovation. My past relationships had, in one way or another, kept me locked in a damaging romantic continuum where my focus was on what could be rather than what was there, right in front of me, in the day to day. Letting go of the people who didn’t bring me joy allowed me to make room for the things and the people who do. Today dating feels easier, largely because I’m grateful: grateful for what I’ve had in the past, grateful for what I have now, grateful for what’s to come. Marie Kondo’s methods can sound kooky. But I challenge you to rid your romantic closet of all your what-ifs so you’re left only with what is—what is bringing you joy.



Source link

Categories
Health

It Took a Fire in My Building to Understand Marie Kondo's Method


The mess has to increase before it decreases. Any organizing expert will attest to that. In Marie Kondo’s playbook, for example, a person who’s serious about decluttering has to first take stock of what she owns in all of its voluminous bounty. That means creating mountains of personal stuff in categorical heaps and owning up to mankind’s extraordinary ability to accumulate. As Kondo says in her book as well as her hit Netflix series, Tidying Up With Marie Kondo, “It is so important to see everything you have and hold each item in your hands.”

Kondo’s wildly popular self-help guide The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, published in 2012, endorses that approach. By taking stock of what you own all at once, you can more easily select the items worth saving—or in Kondo’s terms, things that “spark joy.” Creating a joyful home is the nexus of a happy life, she believes, and in Tidying Up With Marie Kondo, the decluttering guru visits the homes of everyday people to guide them through that arduous but purposeful task.

For those who have yet to check it out, the show will remind you strongly of Queer Eye, another Netflix reality series centered on self-improvement. Both rely on experts who are skilled in their fields and embody the enthusiastic optimism of life coaches. Kondo understands that to emerge from a life rut, you often need to start with the physical and work your way in toward self-awareness. As she sees it, decluttering is inevitably an emotional endeavor. She knows that humans have an inexplicable attachment to old belongings, and she creates space, both literally and figuratively, for those possessions to be honored.

I left behind belongings that sparked the most joy in general, like artwork and photo albums, and packed only the things that sparked joy right now.

In episode three Kondo visits the Mersier family, who moved from a large house in Michigan to a smaller apartment in Los Angeles but never downsized their things in the process. The father, Douglas, feels remorseful about discarding sentimental objects like an engraved cup his godmother gave him years ago. His wife, Katrina, inclined to roll her eyes at such vestiges of childhood, comes around when she sees Kondo’s sensitivity to it, ultimately saying, “I love the way [Marie] doesn’t make any of the family members feel bad about what they want to keep. I’m learning.”

Because Kondo’s goal is sparking joy—and not, say, improving utility—she facilitates a personal path toward home improvement. A blender in excellent condition serves no purpose to someone who hates cooking, while an heirloom with no ostensible function might fill a room with warmth.

For my own part, I have a decently healthy relationship to stuff. I have a habit of buying cookware and books, but I keep countertops clear and shelves organized. I’m allergic to all forms of tchotchke. My only hoarding vice is saving birthday cards, letters, and ticket stubs that live in disorganized splendor in my night table drawer. So because my clutter levels are on the lower end of the spectrum, I never thought I needed a thorough assessment of possessions in the manner Marie Kondo prescribes.

It took a fire to change my perspective.

PHOTO: Denise Crew/Netflix

The blaze ignited on the third floor of my Brooklyn building; though the flames never reached my first-floor apartment, the water certainly did. It was New Year’s Eve 2017. I rushed home from a family gathering soon after the fire department left, feeling nervous and uncertain about what I’d find. No one in the building was hurt, luckily, and the fire was extinguished, but copious amounts of water had seeped through the walls. Inside my apartment the hardwood floors undulated like waves from the water buildup. The walls were bulbous from moisture, which signified the likelihood of mold. Everything smelled. Adding to the situation was the timing of it all: My husband and I were planning to put our place on the market that week in pursuit of a bigger home for ourselves and our two little boys. That was an absurd prospect now. We would have to find a temporary place to live. We were grateful for home insurance.

Soon after, we packed up and moved to an Airbnb while repairs started in our home. Most of our possessions were left to collect dust under plastic covers, and I packed a couple suitcases with a few essentials. I left behind belongings that sparked the most joy in general, like artwork and photo albums, and packed only the things that sparked joy right now: my winter boots, the sweaters I wore on repeat, a couple dresses, jeans, the book I had started reading, and another book in case I finished the first. For my boys, I packed a selection of clothes and a tiny assortment of toys: a Lego set, puzzles, picture books. Traveling lightly triumphed over abundance.

We stayed at our temporary lodging for two months. It was a tight space, and we had only a few personal things with us, but we felt so lucky the fire had not been more damaging. More so, living with less made us feel thankful for the comforts we usually enjoyed, like having the space and seating to host friends for meals. Even the ability to say “This is temporary” is a luxury.

It’s funny how the more you have, the more you’re accustomed to having.

When we moved back home, our floors were brand-new and our possessions suddenly looked more plentiful than ever. Look at all this stuff I owned. A KitchenAid! Serving platters! Extra bedding and pillowcases. Dozens of shirts. I barely missed most of these items or even acknowledged their absence. (OK, I did miss the KitchenAid.) The difference between beloved possessions and excess stuff had never seemed starker. I donated a lot that week—baby gear we didn’t need, clothes, books, kitchen supplies—and felt more appreciative of the items I kept.

We finally put our home on the market and bought a new place, coincidentally down the block from the little Airbnb. As we got settled in our new place, I bought Marie Kondo’s book so this home would feel light and peaceful. I didn’t want to take the extra space for granted.

It’s funny how the more you have, the more you’re accustomed to having. Much of Kondo’s cleverness, therefore, is homing in on the inverse relationship between bounty and gratitude. To enhance the latter, you need to confront the former and assess its value. Netflix’s Tidying Up With Marie Kondo may have ridiculously banal content—watching people clean out their closets and drawers—but the emotional toll of letting go is a surprisingly moving experience. The episode in which Frank and Matt, two writers with an attachment to old books and papers, host Frank’s parents for the first time in their shared home was genuinely emotional to watch. And I laughed knowingly as the two of them read old birthday cards at their table and agreed to discard most of them. It even inspired me to crack open my night table drawer and, in true Marie Kondo style, greet the mess.

Lonnie Firestone has written for Departures, Vanity Fair, and Playbill.



Source link

Categories
Health

Kelly Marie Tran: 10 Things to Know About the Breakout Actress From 'Star Wars: The Last Jedi'


Kelly Marie Tran is about to be everywhere. The actress, who you might recognize from a few College Humor videos, is the undisputed breakout of Star Wars: The Last Jedi, which hits theaters everywhere this Friday. She plays Rose Tico, a maintenance worker who becomes an unexpected Resistance hero in the battle against the First Order. Tran steals every scene she’s in—yes, even the super-CGI ones where it’s very easy to be distracted. And the crazy thing is her résumé before this film wasn’t that deep. She worked on College Humor, like we said, plus a few episodes here and there of some indie-comedy shows. The Last Jedi is her first mainstream project, though, and we have a feeling it won’t be her last. Here are some essential things to know about your new fave:

1. She’s the first Asian-American woman to star in a Star Wars film. It’s crazy that it’s taken this long. “I don’t take it lightly at all,” Tran told Rolling Stone. “I think from the moment I got this part—and it was also because this is a Star Wars movie—I just wanted to do the whole thing justice.”

2. Tran had never seen a Star Wars movie when she received the script for The Last Jedi She’s seen them now, of course, and says A New Hope is her favorite.

3. She hung out with the late Carrie Fisher on set—and received some incredible advice. “She told me that this was an amazing experience and to enjoy everything because it’s fleeting and it’ll go away,” Tran also told Rolling Stone. But if there’s anything else that you want to do—if you want to write, want to produce, whatever—start now because there’s going to be a time when you aren’t looked at the same way.”

4. She eventually wants to write, direct, and produce her own material. Please give her a Netflix show, like, now.

5. Her Instagram takeover skills are on point. Exhibit A: This re-post from Disney’s Instagram, in which she runs around Los Angeles laughing about how nobody recognizes her. We don’t deserve her!

6. Her parents immigrated from Vietnam. “My parents came over to America after the Vietnam war in the late ’70s,” she told People magazine. “They worked from nothing just to give me the opportunity to have a dream. I’m not from an entertainment family at all. My mom works in funerals and my dad works at Burger King.”

7. Her pre-acting list of odd jobs is pretty iconic. “I’ve done pretty much everything. I was a food tour guide—I took people on a tour to different restaurants in the area,” she told People. “I also nannied and worked in offices as an assistant, I cleaned a yoga studio, I passed out flyers—I worked every weird job.”

8. She lied to her parents about filming Star Wars. “I said I was in Canada working on an indie movie,” she told People. “I’m pretty sure I told some people Toronto and some people Vancouver and then I had to wrap around my lie. I even bought maple syrup to give to people to convince them I’d really been to Canada.” Why she did this is unclear, but it’s incredible.

9. She cared more about Harry Potter growing up than Star Wars. “In 10th grade, my teacher was obsessed with [Star Wars] and played it in the background, but I was reading Harry Potter so I wasn’t listening to it,” Tran told BuzzFeed. That, my friends, is relatable content.

10. Annnd she auditioned five times for Star Wars. Yes, five. Thank Luke Skywalker it worked out.

Related Stories:

Kelly Marie Tran Is Perfection in the First Star Wars: The Last Jedi Trailer

The Star Wars Cast Had a Huge Party at Prince William and Prince Harry’s Palace



Source link