Making Peace with the Things That Don’t Spark Joy (But Still Matter)

I have a lot of respect for Marie Kondo—and her KonMari method. Honestly, I think she’s a Grand Master of how to belong in a space with our belongings. There’s a quiet strength in her method, a genuinity, and it goes beyond decluttering.

What I’ve always admired is the deep respect she holds for things—the belongings we choose to keep and the ones we choose to let go. It’s not a system built on shame, or an excuse to go buy the latest matching tubs and storage hacks. It's not about consumption. It’s about honouring what you already have, and choosing with care.

Even now, with global fame and bestselling books, she still insists people do the work themselves. That’s what I love most. In a society obsessed with outsourcing and quick fixes, she gently insists: no, you need to hold this object. You need to feel it. That part can’t be skipped.

I’ve followed her method in my own home and also when helping others through decluttering and deep cleaning. And I keep coming back to her wisdom.

But I’ve also made a couple of small, respectful deviations.

The first is this: some things are necessary, even if they don’t spark joy.

I’ve tossed old towels, cleaning products, and random-but-useful junk too many times, only to find myself buying them again weeks later. It taught me that “joy” isn’t always the right measure. So now, I ask a second question:

So now, when I help people sort through their homes, I offer a second question alongside Marie’s: Does it bring you joy?

Me: Or is it a practical necessity?

And of course, some things fall into both categories—your favourite hoodie, that one perfect spatula, a bucket that just feels right. But others, like disinfectant or duct tape, just need a quiet corner to live in without needing to be loved.

Marie’s method is still my foundation. But like any real practice, it evolves. We adapt it. We learn as we go.