Disciple of Discipline

While you’re exercising your physical muscles, don’t forget your restraint muscle. It can use a workout too. Discipline needn’t be a chore. Consider the paradox that restraint can be freeing. Embracing this, or at least not totally discounting it, should come more easily these days, but with the ease of point and click (the main means of scratching our buying itch), caution can take flight.

To put some starch in your resolve, consider these ancient and modern thoughts-

“Nothing is enough for the man for whom enough is too little.” Epicurus, 4th Century BC Greek Philosopher

“They might be fair trade, organic leg warmers, but if your legs aren’t cold, it’s still a frivolous purchase.” Sarah Lazarovic, 21 Century AD author of “A Bunch of Pretty Things I Did Not Buy

Singing the praises of discipline in the Age of Corona.

A Peloton It's Not

“Fitness Buffs Sweat It Out At Home” - WSJ to the rescue. Or so I thought. “Cut off from gyms and even our favorite trails by government order, people are scrambling to buy exercise equipment to stay fit and sane and devising new ways to work out at home.” I imagined all the clever ways people had found to use what they had at home to keep body and spirit healthy, but the list mostly involved frantic shopping. Nordic Treadmills are being hoarded like toilet paper. A customer decided one wasn’t enough and to the delight of the store owner and the frustration of other shoppers, bought six more. Peloton is doing a bang-up business with “contactless delivery service” to maintain social distancing. Even the lowly dumbbells are hot sellers. One frantic NYC customer sent an Uber driver on a four-hour round trip to a shop in Delaware to pick up the last six pairs.

To be fair, there were some workout- work-arounds that used what was already at hand. A desk chair stood in for a ballet bar. Boxed broth was a decent proxy for two pound weights. My solution to the pool, the gym and the yoga studio all being shuttered is to use the “step climber” at the end of my hall. A dozen times up and down the five flights makes for 1000 steps each way. The dumbbells I used to hate are now prized. My low tech approach will get no awards in the consumer spending category, but in the Use it Up, Wear it Out, Make it Do, or Do Without department, it feels like a winner.

Maybe it’s a bit of sour grapes. I’d love to have a Peloton right now. But as soon as our self or otherwise- imposed quarantining ends, I know I’ll be glad I don’t. When the pool, the gym and the yoga studio reopen, I’ll rejoice in collective sweating rather than sweating solo in The Age of Corona.

Chickpeas? I Wish

Practicing what I preach, I was cleaning out some kitchen cabinets. Social distancing means lots of time at home. Whether nest-fluffing is a high priority or a measure of last resort, procrastinating is harder to do when you don’t have as many excuses. All those things we claimed to hate- traffic, carpools, errands, meetings- they don’t seem so bad now, do they. I’d give anything to be able to swim ( I wouldn’t grouse about having to share a lane), take or teach a yoga class, walk with friends, meet for lattes, go to the Manor Theatre or the library, get hassled by TSA. And I’m betting you would too. Your list will be different, but we’re all at loose ends.

Poking around in my kitchen cabinets seemed the highest best use of my time this morning. I found a few things that needed to go. You’ve surmised that chickpeas are not the subject of this picture. Why in the world I have kept these pie weights, I cannot explain. I seldom bake a pie and the only time I ever used these things, they were not helpful. I should have let them go right then. But I didn’t. They have sat, sealed in this jar for years. I must not have thoroughly washed and dried them before putting them away. When I opened the jar, the smell of rancid butter was powerful. So I washed them again. And again. Don’t ask me why.

They still smell horrible. I’ll never again use them and neither will anyone else. A can of chickpeas - now that would have been a keeper.

What’s lurking in your house? Now’s a good time to find out. Tidying in the Age of Corona.

Charmin'

Grazie. Merci. Gracias. Thank you. The words are different but the sentiment is the same- gratitude for the kindness of others.

A thoughtful neighbor brought me a weekend WSJ last Saturday. She knew that Off Duty was my favorite section of the week and was concerned that our papers hadn’t been delivered that morning. That’s a little embarrassing to admit- sort of like saying the best part of the NY Times is Modern Love or the Charlotte Observer is good for comics and obituaries. I’ll fess up- all true.

Having just scored a 12 pack of toilet paper that morning, I was feeling flush. I hope this is the only time in my life when this seems like a legitimate thank you gift rather than a sophomoric joke. But we live in strange times so who knows. Maybe we should admit that no one really knows and not beat ourselves up. Be as nice to yourself as you are to others. Thank yourself for showing up and doing the best you can.

And please, don’t hoard the Charmin.

Oldie But Goodie?

As we’re quarantined or social distancing while this war with an invisible enemy is being waged, we might as well remember a lesson from another war. Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without. This World War II ditty suddenly seems fresh and relevant in the Age of Corona.

I know it’s downright un-American not to shop and spend, but maybe it’s time for a reset. What’s lurking around your house that you can use? All those things on the pantry shelf that were there “pre-stockpiling”? The can of white paint that isn’t exactly the perfect color but it’s close enough- and who knows how long you’ve had it. No antibacterial wipes? How about the giant jug of bleach diluted with tap water to make your own solution? You’ve probably got some “essential” oil ( that apparently was very non-essential given you’ve had the unopened vial for years) that could scent your homemade concoction. Knit something with all that yarn stash you’ve been squirreling away. Read the books you’ve bought but never opened. You get the idea. What’s right under your nose that has been ignored for too long? Reacquaint yourself with the things you already own. And if you can’t love them even now, maybe it’s time to get rid of them.

“Use them up, wear them out, make them do or do without”. Old but not outdated. An oldie but goodie.

Unlike Sardines

Over-crowded, tightly packed, no breathing room-like sardines in a can. Poor sardines don’t get any say in the matter- if they did, they’d not be in a can to begin with. But a can with some room to wiggle and breathe would be better than the alternative.

Imagine sardines are proxies for your possessions. Do your things live in over-crowded, tightly packed conditions? Do you have so much stuff that your house feels over-stuffed? Just like sardines and humans, your things need some breathing room. Having some voids, some empty space makes everything else better.

Remember the Rules. Fewer things, better things. If everything is precious, then nothing is.

“Eliminate the unnecessary so the necessary may speak” says the artist, Hans Hofmann. And Claude DeBussy.agrees. “Music is not in just in the notes, but in the space between.” To appreciate the beauty and usefulness of your things, you need some emptiness.

The fish I’ve lured into this tin are not sardines, but whatever they are, they’re happy to have some wiggle room. Your things will be too. Another paradox: emptiness enhances fullness.

What's Dragging You Down?

Willful Blindness is a concept rooted in law. You're responsible “if you could have known, and should have known something that instead you strove not to see.”  Open your eyes and see what you’re hauling around that is dragging you down. Sometimes it’s harder to ignore your baggage than to face it.

Eventually, ignorance isn’t bliss. 

It's In The Can

“Admit it, You Have a Box of Cords You’ll Never, Ever Use Again” was the headline. Earl and Pearl and the WSJ are on the same page and in the same pickle. Squirreling away old cords from outdated, broken or missing electronic devices is one of the many irrational things we do. I’ve never heard a reasonable explanation for cord hoarding. Other than inertia, the most common excuse is “I might need it one day.” Yep, when pigs fly. New devices usually come with new cords.

So do yourself a favor. Cut the cord. Get untangled. If you want to spare the landfill, Best Buy recycles cords- no matter how old or frayed. So into the can or into the kiosk… just do it.

FOCUS

A friend gave me a 2020 “Thought of the Day” calendar as a New Year’s gift. Everyday there is something new to consider. Day 9 caught my fancy. It reminds me to ignore the social media acronym, FOMO. Honestly, I needed little reminding. I only recently learned what FOMO even meant and learning it only prompted me to coin, DOMO- Delight of Missing Out. Sort of curmudgeonly, but mostly honest. Teddy’s quote prompted another acronym, FOCUS. Fear of coming up short. I like this one. We all do it and it’s usually to our detriment. Be yourself- everyone else is already taken! That’s a good resolution.

Knock, Knock...

Who’s there?

Hope. Smiling from the threshold of the year to come.

Don’t let the joke be on you. Welcome what makes you whole and bid what doesn’t, adieu. Remember the words of Alfred Lord Tennyson. “Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, ‘It will be happier’…”

Happy New Year to you all.

'tis the Season...

… for tinsel and trapping, parcels and wrapping, jingle bells and mice napping. And regifting. A piece in the WSJ on the economic case for regifting snared me. Regifting has a bad reputation. I’m going to do my part to scrub that reputation clean. Consider economic utility. What is the usefulness or value the consumer derives from the product- in this case- the gift? The concept of utility is part economics and part psychology. This blending birthed behavioral economics, which in my opinion is the least dismal part of the dismal science.

Here’s how it works. In a perfect world, gift giving gives pleasure to both the giver and receiver. But the world isn’t perfect. Sometimes givers miss the mark. Sometimes receivers are just about impossible to please. When a gift misses the mark, economic utility is compromised. Even if you don’t care a wit about utility, you probably don’t want to seem like an ingrate. The social taboos around regifting are enough to make even a curmudgeon reluctant. Guilty, thoughtless, lazy and disrespectful are words associated with regifting. 1 in 7 people surveyed said they were unhappy with their gift but half of the disappointed people kept the gift anyway. Wasted dollars and a lot of unloved and unused clutter seemed a small price to pay to avoid guilty, thoughtless, lazy and disrespectful.

Isn’t it better to put the unwanted or unneeded gift into the hand of someone who wants it than letting it gather dust on a shelf or be tossed in the trash? Surely it is. And most givers agree. They don’t give in hopes of disappointing or burdening. Givers aren’t nearly as troubled by their gift being passed along as the recipient imagines. And even the most careful and creative giver sometimes lays an egg. With regifting, one man’s rotten egg becomes another man’s delicious omelette.

The greenery in the picture is regifting on steroids. Someone bought way too much garland. She gave it to a friend. The friend said thanks. That friend didn’t need it after all so she gave it to me. It came at just the right time. I was on my way to the Christmas tree purveyor to buy a bundle. I said thanks. The garland was hung and had a pleasing swag. A friend who knew I was going away for Christmas asked ( a little sheepishly) if she might take it off my hands before I left. No need for sheepishness! I was delighted she wanted it and grateful to take it down before it became dry and lifeless. She said thank you and is giving this garland its fourth life. That’s something to celebrate.

Maybe the greenery is “a perfect world” microcosm. Economic utility was maximized. The giver/receiver chain was long and satisfied. Everyone came out on top, although the greenery purveyor would take exception to that.

This gift-giving season, acknowledge that regifting isn’t taboo. Giving someone something that didn’t speak to you but you know will speak to them is thoughtful and generous. Maybe substitute sharing. That’s a reputation enhancer that might just put the Joyeux in Noël.

Illusions

This books appears to be upside down, but the picture was taken right-side up.

For someone for whom the quest for perfection has been the alpha and omega, bring out the humble pie. The words of Antoine de St. Exupéry ,“Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing more to add but when there is nothing more to take away.” have been my North Star. In self-defense, the focus of my Rules has been on the material world- our possessions, our stuff. And in this regard, taking away all that is unnecessary does help the necessary to shine. But there is more to life than stuff. That’s easy to forget, but Mole reminded me.

“The greatest illusion, said the mole, is that life should be perfect.” Lest you think it silly to take the word of mole, consider the mole’s favorite saying. “If at first you don’t succeed, have some cake. It works every time.”

Who is this wise mole? He’s one of the characters in the beautiful book, The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy. The book was a recent gift and I loved it so much that I wanted to share it with a couple of others. The two copies I bought were a “special” edition- bigger margins and thicker paper- because that’s what was available. When I paged through each of the books at home, one was clearly imperfect. The final endpaper was pasted in upside down.

I was annoyed at the mistake. I wanted my gifts to be perfect so was quick to let the store know they’d sold me a defective book. The clerk was nice- said he’d put another copy behind the counter for me to pick up at my convenience. I could tell his assessment of convenient and mine were miles apart. He was thinking “No big deal.” I was thinking, “What a nuisance.” I’ll have to drive back to the store to make this switch and the store, while not far from home, isn’t on my beaten path.” Before I headed out, I gave the “perfect” copy another read to be sure there were no defects lurking in it. When I turned to the page reading, “The greatest illusion, said the mole, is that life should be perfect.” I knew I wasn’t headed back to the bookstore. The book, formerly considered “imperfect” was just fine. Maybe even a stroke of luck. Maybe it was like Charlie’s chocolate bar with the golden ticket. Maybe I had the only copy with the endpaper upside down. Maybe this mistake would render this book more valuable- like a rare, mis-struck coin. It doesn’t matter. I’m keeping the book. Now the only question is which of the intended recipients will get the copy made perfect by its imperfection.

Maybe I’ll skip the humble pie and have a piece of cake instead. That’s what Mole would do.

Another Christmas memory for sure.

It Did Really Happen

If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound? Yes. Sound is a mechanical wave- a phenomenon of physics. Mother Nature still speaks even if no one is around to hear her. And contrary to prevailing opinion, the event still happened even if it wasn’t posted on Instagram.

I know nearly nothing about physics or Instagram.  But I’m arguably more interested in the former than the latter which bespeaks a deep indifference to Instagram. I only “like” people in person. I’m not a “follower”, but a recent WSJ article on travelers booking “Instagram tours” got my attention. Apparently one can hire a professional photographer to get the best possible vacation picture to post, all in the name of “likes”.

The quote from a millennial that said it all: “If a trip isn’t on my Instagram, it probably didn’t happen.” Making it happen means traveling heavy. For the star of the post- hair stuff, makeup, and wardrobe changes. For the photographer- lots of lighting paraphernalia, cameras and drones for aerial shots.

Perish the lowly “selfie”.

It makes one question whether the exotic location or the natural and manmade wonders even matters if they’re just a backdrop for a vanity shot.  Long ago, before the Internet was invented, we stopped at a kitschy road-side attraction somewhere in Florida where you could pay to have your picture taken holding a baby gator with his snout firmly sealed with duct tape.  We took the bait. The main memory isn’t our children holding the poor gator.  It’s of another pre-school girl with full makeup and coiffed hair, in her sparkly dress, striking a pageant-worthy pose with the gator. Her parents were snapping pictures like paparazzi. A millennial in the making.

Vanity posing on vacations or elsewhere- maybe missing the forest for the trees? I do like the Polaroid (the original insta) pictures of my gator holders and honestly felt a little hesitant about putting them in even limited circulation.  Glamour shots they are not, so I gave myself a pass. 

Remember that better can be the enemy of the good. Enjoy the sights and the sounds without worrying too much about your followers.

The Ali Babas’ Riches

Remember not too many years ago, when newscasters referring to billions, would say, “That’s billions with a B.”? Pity the poor millions, now merely rounding errors.

Alibaba, the Chinese e-commerce giant is the mastermind behind the world’s biggest shopping day. Singles Day- 11/11, makes the riches in Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves look like crumbs. Over 38 billion dollars worth of goods were sold this year, 1.4 billion in the first two minutes alone. That’s a lot of gold coins, bales of silk, and fine carpets. Or maybe, it’s sneakers, electronics and dog sweaters. Stuff, a whole lot of stuff.

In the Arabian folk tale a wise servant kept Ali Baba from losing his shirt in a frenzy of temptation and greed. Alibaba Inc. hopes their millions of customers are not guided by such thoughtful restraint. They’re hoping for shoppers whose heads are not as quick as their hands. Not much thinking and lots of clicking.

That’s billions with a B!

Third Year's the Charm

If this house looks vaguely familiar, you might remember it as the subject of my essay on September 9, 2018, Perfection’s Detractor. It’s America’s most expensive home. Twenty one bathrooms, a helipad, three kitchens, a crocodile skin elevator, a bowling alley, a candy room and umpteen other amenities, attempted to justify the listing price of $250 million. The market for America’s most expensive home was soft- three years later and goosed by a $150 million price reduction -finally, a sale.

The buyer’s identity has not been revealed but it’s probably not someone who cottons to St. Exupéry’s belief that “Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing more to add but when there is nothing more to take away.” More likely it’s someone  who hews to Somerset Maugham. "Excess on occasion is exhilarating. It prevents moderation from acquiring the deadening effect of a habit.”

For a different version of Exhilarating Excess, I’ll refer you to the essay of October 1, 2018. A hotdog costumes for a Morkie is my version of showy on the cheap!

Cart Before the Horse

“Bookshelves have become cluttered with books on all kinds of decluttering.” WSJ

How’s that for an ironic lead-“To Declutter, First Buy Lots of Books”. Despite the recent explosion of interest, acquiring more in a quest to own less is not a new phenomenon. Organizing’s been a thing for a long time. The first Container Store opened in Dallas in 1978. The professional organizing industry was born in LA in 1984. Barbara Hemphill wrote Taming the Paper Tiger in 1992. While papers and closets, toys and gadgets led the way, we’re added our thoughts, our calendars, and our endless to-do lists to the things that overwhelm us.

So what’s a person to do?

When rightsizing, minimizing and Kondo-izing fail you, it’s not an indictment of the technique du jour. When you jump into the how of organizing without fully considering the why, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. It’s just another version of the cart before the horse. Buying books and supplies and hiring professionals to help you declutter can be reasonable, but only after you’ve considered why you are in the mess you’re in. That’s why I wrote Robin’s Rules. I wanted to offer a simple, thoughtful framework for understanding why we have so many things we do not use, need or maybe even like. I wanted folks to let the horse pull the cart. Mindset then method. To think first. To formulate an appropriate plan. Then execute that plan.

No straight jackets or carvings in stone! Rules aren’t that strict. Consider them food for thought, guidelines, or metaphorical guardrails to keep you in your lane rather than careening off a messy and expensive cliff.

Think. Make a plan. Execute the plan. That’s what a person should do.

About Thursday...

Never might be better than you think. You’re smart enough to know. Are you brave enough to admit it?

It’s worth thinking about. So here are two thoughts to get you going- one weighty, one witty.

“When work is a pleasure, life is a joy! When work is a duty, life is slavery." Maxim Gorky
”When duty and pleasure collide, let duty slide.” Apron Aphorism

Labor Day

These two empty nests were found on Labor Day, 2019. That seems fitting as surely nest building is labor. It’s hard to imagine home construction with only a beak and claws as tools and found objects for raw materials. Assembly is slow, yet the birds persist; building a nest is a labor of necessity.  

Like humans, birds have preferences. Some like soft, some rough. Some towering, some low.  Big works for some and small for others.  I’m not sure what bird built each of these nests, but I imagine they were designed with form following function. A big bird, expecting a big family, needs something different from a tiny bird with a tiny family.

When their nest is empty, birds don’t sit around brooding. They know it’s time to take flight. I think the former occupants might be amused but proud that this human enjoys their artistry and skill.  The birds would probably even forgive my vain hominid superiority that leads me to label one nest, messy and one, tidy. And they might tweet that nest building isn’t just a labor of necessity but also a means artistic expression, a mark of solidarity within the species, and a nod to family tradition.  In that context, bird-brain takes on a whole new meaning.

It was better when birds were the only ones who twittered.

The Art of Clutter

“The Art of Clutter” in the WSJ (August 24-25) did more than catch my eye- it hooked me. I was certain that the writer had it all wrong. It’s not in clutter’s DNA to behave as art, no matter how skillful the artist.  But the accompanying picture- a carefully curated collection of things the writer loved, told another story.  Her display was artistic and lovely.  It made me think she was someone I would like to know.  And that’s not my usual response to clutter. 

So, what’s up?  The things in the picture were not clutter. 

Clutter has at least four definitions, the first being the most important.  Anything you do not use or love is clutter. Add to that, anything that is broken beyond repair, anything for which you do not have space, and finally, anything that’s “iffy” that would be very easy and inexpensive to replace should you ever decide you did need it.

The writer’s collection failed the test on every count. She clearly loved every piece. She knew the provenance of them all.  None of it was in disrepair- the antique pieces had a much-admired patina.  She had space for it all and none of it would be easy or cheap to replace. In fact, it was all irreplaceable.  This was art but it was not clutter.

About the picture- it’s mine, not the WSJ writer’s. And mine’s not clutter either. There are feathers from all over the place. And porcupine quills from the Masai Mara in Kenya. And sharks’ teeth from Figure Eight. And turtle shells from our farm. And a smooth stone from Cape Cod. And fossilized shells from the Sinai Desert. In short, I know the provenance of each of these finds.  I don’t hold my found treasures as a model of artistic design, but truth be told, if the individual parts are good, you don’t have to be very clever to make a good design.  As the style maven, Gloria Vanderbilt said, “Decorating is autobiography.”

Get rid of the clutter. Find your good stuff and let it tell your story.

Low Hanging Fruit

                    A Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Chinese Proverb

What about a week of Finding Your Low Hanging Fruit to jump start a simplifying journey with easily digested bites before you move on to tougher ones?  I’ll offer a few low-hanging- fruit suggestions, but if they don’t inspire you, find some that do.  The idea is to start.  Take a step. Pick something quick (thirty minutes or so) and easy (a task, not a project). Do something for six consecutive days before you decide to carry on or to call it quits.

On day seven, decide if you’re on a path that is worth pursuing. If so, journey on. If not, at least a few things will be in better shape than before. The low fruit might soon be picked, but once you’re in practice, reaching higher or deeper won’t be so hard. You’ve taken the hardest step by starting. Congratulations! You haven’t just tried, you have done.

Possible Fruits for Your Labors…Wallet, briefcase or pocketbook (ok, handbag); Spice cabinet or drawer; Kitchen “junk” drawer; Glove box in car; Gift wrapping supplies; Magazine and catalogue basket.