Marie Kondo, Evernote, and COVID-19

Housekeeping has always been difficult for me. My bedroom was a disaster when I was in my teen years. As an adult, I have spent a lifetime struggling with clutter. I have strong visual tune-out abilities and generally don't notice the clutter until someone walks through the front door and I see the place through their eyes. Then I want to do better. I really do. I know a clean and tidy environment makes me feel better. I want to be able to welcome guests without having to move clutter to give them a place to sit. I don’t want to be embarrassed by our house. I'm like someone who truly wants to lose weight and be physically fit and is fully intending to start a diet and an exercise program -- first thing tomorrow, after the holiday snacks are gone.

One thing I do rather than clean is plan how I'm going to clean. After more than 40 years of marriage and 35 years living at the same address, I have developed a fairly elaborate cleaning system. There's a daily "tidying" checklist, a weekly list, and a monthly list. In those lists I assign up to twenty minute chunks of cleaning time to each of forty cleaning areas, ranging from the smallest closet to the great outdoors (which gets five minutes per week). The least time is five minutes every other month to an attic area that gets almost no traffic. The most by far goes to the kitchen -- ten minutes every morning and evening plus a total of forty more minutes per week.

I have long believed that if I actually worked my system, it would work. Throwing time at something consistently has to make a difference over long periods of time, right? And I fully intend to work it -- as soon as I get this one other thing done. I have occasionally managed to persevere long enough to start to see results, but then fall off the rails again.

According to Goodreads, I finished reading The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo exactly four years ago today. It was life-changing. Or it would have been if I could have persevered in applying it. I tried. I really did. And things did get better here and there, but it's amazing how much stuff a roomy house accumulates when managed haphazardly for thirty-five years as three babies make their way to adulthood with all the time and energy and stuff kids require and all the improved technology begging to move in and the "items in" count consistently exceeding the "items out" count. It takes serious time to sort through it all. It is an overwhelming project and always easier to put off until later, after I do this quick and easy thing that has nothing to do with cleaning.

Meanwhile, I'm not sure when I started using Evernote, but I have come to value it more and more. Having seen that the latest version doesn't support how I use it, I may be looking for something new when the legacy version quits working, but over the years I have gradually moved my housecleaning system into Evernote as to-do items. The reality is that I could care less in this moment with its many opportunities that there's dust under the furniture, but Evernote tells me I need to spend twenty minutes at a "monthly" level of cleaning in the living room this week and a survey of the room says the dust bunnies threatening to take over the place are probably the place to start. My need to check off that item on my to-do list compels me to set my timer, grab the Swiffer, and get to work. Or start sorting through a stack of papers, or cleaning out a drawer or washing windows. Just until my timer goes off, at which point I will move on to the next cleaning space. Unless I'm hopelessly behind and get distracted by something more fun or urgent or compelling. Then my system comes crashing down and I start avoiding Evernote.

That's where COVID-19 comes in. The energy a new year brings inspired me for the first couple of months of 2020 and then the pandemic came along and simplified my schedule. A lot. Being retired, by the time all the restrictions and closings kicked in, about all I had left was housework and gardening. So I worked my system. I started thanking stuff I no longer need and finding a new place for it. One by one. Room by room. Item by item. Since it's my system and my rules, I can modify the rules whenever I want. When one room doesn't have enough serious clutter left to justify the time committed to it, I drag in a box of clutter from another area to sort through. My system, my rules, my prerogative to tweak the rules.

I was amazed in June to discover I had completed every week's cleaning list for the first six months of 2020. This is not amazing at an objective level. Like I said, I'm retired. The cleaning lists require around twelve hours per week. That's not exactly a full-time job. And yet, this was the first time I had ever come close to persevering for six months. My previous record might have been six weeks. Something had shifted. I learned how to catch up when I fell behind. I embraced every inch of my compulsive tendencies to stick to the plan. I prayed every morning for energy and perseverance. And it started working!

I love this article by Thomas Oopong, which, among other things, says: 

Small improvements add up to massive differences. Compounding works in other areas besides money.

In July, our daughter and son-in-law and three children moved into a small rental house near us, requiring them to put much of their stuff in storage. One item that wasn't going to fit into their cramped living quarters was their Rock Band set-up. I said, "Coincidentally, I think there's enough space for your Wii in a small room I have been cleaning out." Now I have Rock Band! This is much better than the junk that room held before! What a nice pay-off!

In December, our other daughter and son-in-law were going to be in the area for the holidays, but were uncomfortable with the idea of family togetherness in our house with the pandemic still raging strong. I said, "You know, I think our two-car garage that up to now has barely had room for one vehicle has had enough junk removed that, with some effort, it could be cleaned up and split in half for a family gathering with adequate social distancing." The ping pong table that has been folded up in the cluttered basement for years was moved into the garage simply as a table large enough to provide plenty of separation for those participating, with the bonus feature of a net running across it to separate the two sides. On a whim, I also provided paddles and balls in case a game broke out. And it did! We had a wonderful gathering with plenty of space and some intense ping pong between the two social circles. It took just a few hours the week of Christmas to prepare, not a beautiful gathering place, but an acceptable area! Well, that in addition to ten minutes per week and twenty extra minutes per month for twelve months plus a couple of extra projects my husband helped me with. One month we moved a set of metal shelves that had been holding junk for years to another part of the house where they would get better use. Another month, after contributing to a family yard sale, we turned an old wooden cabinet that was mostly empty into kindling and rearranged the other storage. It took a year of dutifully checking off "garage" on my weekly and monthly to-do lists to prepare for that Christmas gathering. Not with the goal of the gathering, but just because it was standing between me and completing that week's cleaning list. Often I spent the ten minutes simply sweeping out the leaves that insist on migrating into the garage, slowly expanding the "clean space" over time. I had no goal nearly so lofty as creating a gathering space for our family Christmas. My highest aspiration was to get another vehicle inside when snow or freezing rain was in the forecast.

Small improvements. Incremental change. Ten minutes a week plus twenty extra minutes a month for twelve months turned a garage one could hardly walk through into 480 square foot of potential. I couldn't have asked for a better pay-off. In fact, it was so nice and roomy, we may start having more family gatherings out there.

Thank you, Marie Kondo, and others who write about decluttering for encouraging me to not just organize the clutter, but to evaluate each item for enduring value and move much of it out. Thank you, developers of Evernote for giving me a place to organize my tasks and do them for no other reason than to get them off my to-do list. (And PLEASE make the tags in the new version work like they used to!) Thank you, Thomas Oppong and others, for encouraging me to seek large improvements through many small steps over a long period of time. I am now fully convinced of the effectiveness of that approach.

Leaving the Church

March 2020 brought a sudden end to my church involvement and attendance, as it did for most people everywhere. COVID-19 made church gatherings a health risk. Unlike many people, however, I was not sad to change up my Sundays. In fact, it was a relief. After six decades of faithful church attendance and many ministry roles as a lay member, multiple issues were prompting me to rethink my involvement in American evangelicalism as a whole and the local congregation in particular.  The pandemic did me a favor by taking the decision to change a life-long habit out of my hands.

When services in the church building reconvened in June, I stayed home. I have attended just one service and that was enough to remind me why I need to stay away for now. Someday, I may find myself back at church, but probably not this week or next or even next month.

As I said, there were multiple issues driving me away, both local and on a wider scale, but the one that has bothered me most in retrospect is walking away from unresolved conflict with church leaders. I am a reader and encounter many words about reconciliation and restoration and forgiveness and humility. I try to let those messages speak to me as I examine my heart. Six months after the end of my involvement, the lack of resolution still nags at me. I know I am not without fault in these rifts and wonder what more I can do to offer a path to reconciliation.

This morning I woke from a dream. There were two scenes that bore enough similarity to inspire some analysis. In the first scene, I was invited to a large home, a mansion. I stepped into the huge front vestibule, which resembled the lobby of a hotel, and settled onto a bench by the door. An older couple sat by me and we watched the hustle and bustle. I saw the lady of the house pass through the vestibule a few times, but she never glanced my direction. I was looking forward to seeing her husband, but he never made an appearance. I was aware he was in a back room somewhere – maybe the kitchen, somewhere to the right.

I realized others in the lobby were migrating toward a hall to the left. The couple next to me got up to follow them and I also rose. But instead of following the crowd, I slipped out the front door.

My next stop was a convention center or mall with multiple people milling around inside. At the back of the large room was a studio of some sort with windows allowing me to see inside. I was interested in the services of the studio and went to the door. Once admitted, I sat and waited for my turn with the proprietor. But she was busy with other people and never looked my way. After waiting quite a while, I slipped out the door.

Two settings, two waits, two exits without ever interacting with my hosts. It seemed there was significance in this theme and I tried to sort through it. When have I sat by a metaphorical door waiting for a metaphorical host to look my way and then just left? The only answer I could come up with involved the church. Long before the shut-down, I felt like my voice was not welcome in the church. Some people were openly hostile, others appeared to listen to my concerns but then continued on as though I hadn’t spoken, others were unable or unwilling to listen to voices outside their chosen sources of input. They would talk to me about trivial matters or share their own views, but weren’t open to actual two-way conversation about serious issues.

As I pondered the emotional aspect of my dream, I realized I wasn’t at all offended by my inattentive hosts. I just looked at my options and chose one. 1) I could continue to sit and wait; 2) I could push forward without an invitation; or 3) I could walk away. 

        I chose to walk away.

I don’t know what people at the church think of my absence. I wrote an email to the pastor when services started back up saying I would no longer be involved. He knew some of my issues and I didn't bother to explain the ones he doesn't know about. With the pandemic still in full swing, people may think I'm afraid of the virus. My husband is still involved but brings home no reports of people asking about me. A few people have told me they miss me and hope I’ll come back without expressing curiosity concerning my reasons for not being there. A couple of “fringe” people unaware of the tension have asked me why I’m staying away. I have resisted the urge to come up with a simple explanation for a complex tangle of issues, so I have no answer. They aren’t curious enough to probe, so the conversation ends. No one in a leadership role has asked.

I realized the hosts in my dream could be best described as “indifferent.” They weren’t concerned about me. There was no rift between us, no negative emotions. They simply didn’t see me and likely didn’t notice when I slipped out the door.

Similarly, the people who take the most ownership for the church I have left seem unconcerned about resolving the rift between us. Any effort I have made toward reconciliation during months and even years of tension has been brushed aside with a denial that a rift exists. None of my efforts have brought any thaw in our relationship. They don’t want to talk about it.

And then it dawned on me. There are no balls in my court. I have sent lobs to others, inviting engagement, but not one of them has been returned. They just get pushed aside and the game goes on without my participation.

I value reconciliation. I would love to talk through the tensions that have led us to where we are and try to resolve them. But my “host” (the church) is unaware of me sitting by the door waiting for an invitation for full engagement in what is happening. Unconcerned. Indifferent. Preoccupied. And that’s all right.

There are no balls in my court. This is a liberating thought! I don’t need to push my way into places where I haven’t been invited – down the hall to the left or wandering someone’s house unaccompanied in search of an elusive host or interrupting the busy studio manager. I don’t need to wait indefinitely for someone to notice me sitting just inside the door. I can slip out the door with no ill will toward any of the busy, preoccupied, indifferent people I’m leaving behind and move on with my life.

I don’t know how I feel about placing high levels of significance on dreams. Can I trust my subconscious mind to accurately interpret my situation? Do I think God speaks through symbolic dreams today like in the Old Testament? I don’t know. But I know this: I can be certain no one has reached out to me looking for reconciliation and walked away rebuffed, because the truth is that no one has reached out to me with any serious interest in understanding what is happening in my life. People involved in church ministry are too busy and maybe too hurt to chase after people who have walked away from their ministry. They don’t have the resources necessary to invest deeply in relationships with people like me. I’m free to go. There are no balls in my court!

Playing Jesus' Advocate

 I read a lot of things on Facebook that come from Christians but seem to be completely opposed to the teachings of Jesus Christ. Mostly, I scroll past without responding. These are my elders, or my neighbors, or both. They have been trained to ignore any evidence that negates what they and their fellow evangelicals already believe. Engaging with them will only strain our relationship without moving them. If I really want to push back, I need to do it in person and with more grace than can be conveyed on social media.

Recently, however, I have responded a couple of times to a retired minister. I have known him via the internet for years and we have met a few times in real life. I like him. He's a thoughtful person. When we think we come to different conclusions, but he's at least thinking and not parroting the "ain't it awful" voices that are influencing so many evangelicals these days.

My pastor friend is concerned about what is happening in the U.S. right now, as am I. We have different ideas about the cause and remedy, but similar concerns that society is in a downward spiral that is likely to bring even more disaster on us than we're already seeing. His advice is to prepare for the future in terms of "food, finances, and protection." I could have picked any of the three to discuss, but chose to push back specifically against the finance part, asking where he plans to store his wealth in a collapsing society. I pointed out that Jesus taught us NOT to store up wealth. I ended my post with these words:

I wish I were closer than I am to following the teachings of Jesus, but I can at least consider the direction I need to go to reach that goal and it's not a bigger bank account or more stores in better-secured bigger barns.

 Needless to say, my friend did not respond with awe for my amazing insight and amend his advice. He dug in deeper. Part of me would have loved to continue the conversation, to try to back him into a corner, but there was no point. I needed to move on rather than beating my head against a wall.

As I thought about the exchange and how I would respond if I weren't walking away, the phrase "devil's advocate" came to mind. Idioms.freedictionary.com defines playing devil's advocate thus:  

"To argue against or attack an idea, argument, or proposition—even if one is in favor of it—for the sake of debate or to further examine its strength, validity, or details." 

Since my husband and I have planned for our retirement years, I obviously have some sympathy for my friend's suggestion of storing up wealth. However, I think in light of the teachings of Jesus Christ, it would be good to at least consider the possibility that storing up wealth is NOT what we should be doing right now, that maybe we should invest in a different form of riches such as relationships and goodwill. I'm willing to argue for a viewpoint I don't necessarily support by my actions, i.e., play the devil's advocate. However, in this case, it's not the devil who is suggesting an alternative view, but Jesus.

Is it possible to "play Jesus' advocate"? I can think of multiple subjects of discussion right now where it might be profitable to have someone represent the actual teachings of Jesus Christ in a discussion, even if they can't claim to follow them flawlessly. 

How often do you encounter someone "playing Jesus' advocate"? Do you ever find yourself in that role?