The brilliant core of Marie Kondon’s book (Marie Kondo, The life-changing magic of tidying up: the Japanese art of decluttering and organizing) is the simple instruction to hold an object in your hand and ask: Does it spark joy? If a piece of clothing, book, or kimono (miscellaneous item) does not, then out it goes!
Simple. Radical. Terrifying! And yet wonderful.
I have not yet taken the plunge, but I will.
At the very least the question goaded me into looking at the things that define my working life.
Certainly one of the most joyful acts in which I engage is the simple physical act of writing. Pulling out my journal is now almost an automatic response when faced with a restlessness of spirit, a troubled soul or a creative block. The discipline of putting nib to paper slows things down and promotes clarity if not inspiration.
Inspiration, in itself, is a gift for which I am always grateful and yet sometimes the basic act of handwriting itself proves joyful, redemptive even without a breakthrough insight.
I have several different fountain pens I use depending upon the task and the paper. My Sailor Realto (ENagahara nib) moves wonderfully across the fine paper in my orange Rhodia Webnotebook. The Visconti Homo Sapiens forms a perfect match with the Arches Text Wove paper in my Innovative Journaling journal. The warmth of the lava based barrel combined with movement of the 23t palladium Dreamweaver nib across the textured paper from France is a recipe for deep contentment. One of my earliest pens was an S.T. Dupont whose M nib I now find too bold. Even though it sees limited use I keep it close because I love the feel of the Chinese lacquer body.
My drawer of various colours of Diamine ink only adds to the play.
Some of my pens will fall to the scalpel of the question “Does it spark joy?” And that is alright because I do not desire to be an accumulator. I am tantalized though by the prospect of everything in my office and our house sparking joy.