On Books, and Hoarding. And Joy

Due to the fact that I happily allow Google, Facebook, and the internet in general spy on my every thought**, some clickbait made its way into my feed: Going Against the Decluttering Craze: the Book Hoarders Who Defy Marie Kondo. I made some comment in my blog post I shared a week or so ago about "that Marie Kondo shit," so I figured I'd bite. I guessed it would be some nonsense faux-trage because she had the temerity to suggest we limit the amount of books we hang on to, and rawr rawr how dare she. I mean, sure, she dared suggest we hang on to a mere 30 books, which is utterly impossible, but she didn't suggest it out of meanness. I think.

Kondo wakes up in cold-sweats
about rooms like Isaac's

The title of the article certainly cuts that way: book hoarders who defy Marie Kondo. Defy her righteous quest to make our houses look like Crate and Barrel catalogs! Rail at the pop culture icon as a target on which to project all of our guilt about messy houses! How come my mom's house is spotless and lovely??

(Narrator: you have kids; they don't anymore)

Truth be told, I don't want to knock her art. She has a method of thinking about clutter and balance that has a valuable place. It's thoughtful and challenging and meditative. Her focus is asking people to really think about what brings one joy, and for the life of me, I can't think of what could be wrong with contemplating joy.

It becomes clear right away, though, is that this wasn't just some angry article. Maybe it's what the author intended, but instead, it's s a lovely piece from famous book lovers talking about how important books are to them, and therein - the real meat of the article - is where I found its beauty and message. Funny to say such a short article is beautiful, but books are beautiful, and people writing enthusiastically and warmly about things they love is a lovely way to spend a few minutes of your day.

 A few quotes really stood out to me:

"The first place I go in someone's house is their bookshelves. You can tell exactly who they are."

I love that. It's true! Maybe I've chosen my friends well, or maybe the right people have fallen into my life (hint: the latter), but when I go to my friends' houses, and friends' friends' houses, I scan their bookshelves, but not to make some judgey judgment about who they are. I do it because I'm curious to see in their heads and find a common place and talk about interesting stuff they know because they read. Reading, after all, is one of the things that drew me to Jennifer***, and here we are today after 20 years.

"I do not loan books. I'd rather just buy you your own copy...When you give a book to someone, they might not feel the same way about it that you do...And you don't realize how much it meant until you don't get it back."

Dom's bedtime stash

One of my very best friends - Greg Dufner - and I have very different views about that quote. He freely, gladly, happily gives books away. To him, it's like a transfer of some thing: an emotion, a laugh, knowledge, entertainment. I envy him in this. For me, books are so deeply personal that it's hard to let them go. And when I read a book, especially a great one, I feel like buying more copies supports an artist and their art. I like the conversations a book can lead to, and as a wild extrovert, it's the talking-to-people part of reading that really means the most to me. I guess, at the end of it, Greg and I sort of feel the same way about a transfer of a thing; we just go about it very differently. I can't help but think, though, that my way is a tad selfish. But however you look at it - my way or Greg's - the joy of sharing books is one of life's great ones.

We raise our kids on books. We and our school system insist on reading time every day, and my boys exceed it every day. One of the single greatest joys of my day is reading to my boys. Sadly, Isaac doesn't partake anymore but the twins still ask and I happily oblige. And when I read, I read. I'm proud of it. I do voices and accents and good God I love it. Currently, I'm on the 3rd book of Rick Riordan's Carter Kane trilogy. Reading a story aloud - the process of telling a story - is as old as humanity, and I cherish my Audible library as much as my physical one. One of my all-time favorite authors Neil Gaiman, shared a similar passion for telling stories, and it made me so happy to hear someone the likes of him enjoy the medium so much. My dad and grandparents read to me. I guess I'll call it a family tradition!

Double- triple-stacked

The shelves in our house are packed, but there's no end in sight. Books we've read, will read, might read, should read, probably maybe will eventually read, let's admit it we'll never read but it looked awesome, and are reading. Bedtime reading, nightstand reads, comfy-chair books, toilet reading (Isaac has developed my bad habit of sitting for 1,000 years on the toilet, reading), camping reading, vacation reading, car ride books (both kinds: across town errand books and longer day-trip books), bar reading, restaurant reading, coffee table displays...what am I missing? My heart leaps when I look as our roomsful of books, and when, as we settle down at night, I see each of the boys absorbed in one. On the occasions when we have to discipline one of our boys, Jennifer and I have an agreement that never will groundings-from-things extend to books.

So cheers to my fellow book-hoarders! Long live your stacks and stacks of books, your nonexistent shelf space, your buried-in-a-pile-long-forgotten tomes!

Talk to me about books and the joy they bring!

**which, by the way, I've learned to just accept in my life and am not only at peace with it but have covered my house in Google's devices and it actually has succeeded in making my life much more convenient

***"Mom," I exclaimed excitedly after a few dates, "..she reads! BOOKS!"

Not Some New Year's Resolution

2019 saw me lost in social media and my phone screen, despite my whining at my kids to stop doing the same. I read less, interacted less, and wrote less because stress and malaise and ennui and more stress saw me fall back into myself. I found new and exciting ways to spiral into my own head, wherein the echo chamber of negativity made even my more escapist hobbies and joys unreachable. I chose to add more noise to the noise between my ears, and came out of it less of me than I am.

Idiot.

I get that lots of stress and busyness make some things seem out of reach: you just can't bring yourself some days to wash the damn dishes or think of what to make for dinner, let alone start on some giant project like a bathroom redo or that Marie Kondo shit that sounds like a good idea, but really just makes me feel even worse about myself that I can't seem to muster enough fucks to give about my stupid closet or silverware drawer.

I got a chance, finally, at some got-dam perspective over the holiday season whilst things got a little quiet. Lest one think this is some insufferable New year's Resolution post...

...well, I guess it kind of is. But it's more meant to be this: I struggle. You struggle. Maybe I can talk a bit about my struggles, and how I really want to spend time on positive things in my life, taking a contrarian lesson from my lackluster and mildly dark 2019. Maybe there's something in my challenges and solutions you find motivating. Maybe sometimes I need to be held accountable to sticking with my solutions. Maybe sometimes I just want to say things, and you exist, and I like that you and I exist together on this sphere and that's all it needs to be.

2019 Retrospective of Positivity
2019 wasn't a total loss! I still did stuff I love. So this doesn't turn into a 5,000-word self-indulgent ramble, I'll just do some highlights so it stays a 1,000-word self-indulgent ramble:

• Some books I read in 2019. Also did some audiobooks on Audible, which allows me to 1) read more books; while I 2) do other stuff at the same time like run, or dishes, or yard work, or drive. I enjoyed all of the books I read - and "read" - but one. But let's not focus on the negative here! Book discussion posts aside, for the reading I did in 2019, it was good reading. Thrilled a favorite author published a new book, equally thrilled at a series of books written 2,000 years ago. Talk to me about books.
• Went camping. I take my boys, annually, to Wilderness State Park. I went there as a kid, and love the tradition with mine. They tell me they do too! Talk to me about camping and hiking.
• Vacationed in Boston! Boston is Jennifer's and my favorite city-away-from-home. We love the food, the history, the walk-ability, the feel of the place. Got to share it with the boys, all of whom are in various stages of learning about early American history. When you can get a 14 year old to walk around a city un-ironically wearing a tri-corn hat, maybe you've done well. Talk to me about family trips.
• GenCon. I'm with my best friends, at my happy place, doing some of my favorite things. Talk to me about board games.
• I brewed some beer. It's my most productive hobby! Talk to me about beer.
• I shared food, wine, and the gift of alone-time with the love of my life. Talk to me about love. Or food. Or both.

2020
I have lots of hopes and dreams for how I'm going to treat myself and my family in 2020. I will "fail" in my grandest desires, surely, because life and work will sometimes conspire to conflict. I guess this is my biggest goal: to not look at things that just don't work out as a failure, because failure is such a personal and demeaning word I use to punish myself for things that aren't my fault. I just have to take what doesn't happen as sure-it's-disappointing-but-I'm-not-a-bad-person-because-of-it.

I want more hikes. More outdoors. Better fitness. More great books. More family time.

And less noise, be it from the echo chamber of social media, or of my own making. Let's go, 2020!