Like the most of the folks I’m connected with on social media, I’m peppering my posts with Kondoisms these days. Didn’t read the book. Still, I Kondoized my Facebook connections in late 2016, exactly when most of the news stopped sparking even the tiniest bit of joy. Did watch the Netflix series, including one episode during a 3:00 a.m. bout of insomnia. Followed it up by tidying a drawer. Three weeks later, my workout gear is neatly folded and still sparks joy. The rest of my house is still far from Kondo level tidy. Likely always always will be. Which is fine, partly because I keep finding joy amid the clutter. Example: a journal from a workshop I took called Teaching as a Spiritual Journey, back when my career would have been better described as Teaching as an Exercise in Self-Torture. In particular, notes about the highs and lows of my job. Entries. . . .Read more . . .