I used to buy books on organization and clutter control in the hopes that one of them would help me keep my world in order, but I finally gave up when none of them ever did... ...until this one, maybe: the life-changing magic of tidying up by Marie Kondo. Its a funny little book...the writing shows its Japanese origins...but it has an animistic attitude that I've never encountered in other how-to-clean-up advice. It is the first to use feelings as a basis for choosing what to keep and what to throw, and to describe the energy that belongings can hold. Most treatises on organization evoke the burdensome weight of too much stuff and try to deal with it logically, which leaves me floundering with ever more finely drawn distinctions between this thing and that until decision making becomes the biggest burden of all. Marie is the most ruthless culler of any of them, but her only criteria for keeping or throwing is whether an object, when touched, gives you a feeling of joy. That is, its the thing itself, not the idea of it, that should transmit its necessity in your life. She also advocates gratitude to objects, including the ones that do not transmit joy. Discarded things have played their part in showing you what you don't like or no longer want, or just by being chosen or given have satisfied someone's emotional need. They should be honored for that, without necessarily needing to be kept because of it. Every single thing you do keep, according to Marie, should be something that gives you joy, and therefore you will live surrounded by things you love and care for, whatever they may be. This, finally, makes sense to me. Christopher Alexander says that the luminous ground of being permeates everything, but not everything equally. Why should we not be able to perceive the presence of living energy in our lives and discern which things hold it most powerfully for us? Who else could make those decisions?
With some trepidation I have tried to put Marie's theory into practice. By her advice, I started with my clothes. I felt very reluctant to begin, oppressed with the fear that nothing I own would actually feel good. I remembered all the years of trying to hide behind shapeless, ugly clothes; feeling fat, inelegant, ashamed, afraid of standing out, afraid of looking cheap. Long ago I decided there wasn't much satisfaction in what I wore because I felt those things no matter what I put on, so I put my energy elsewhere and my clothes show it. If I waited for something to give me joy I might have to go naked.
So...was joy present in my closet? I didn't feel it literally when I touched each thing, but asking the question for every garment made the choices clear. There aren't too many items left (this picture doesn't include my jeans, t-shirts, socks and underwear...they are in a drawer), and some of the ones I kept don't fit me right now, but they are, or were the ones I love. 
The color palette is instructive...I knew I liked blue and gray...here is proof. The styles are equally similar...all supremely simple and undecorated, hardly even patterned, with nothing stretchy or clingy in sight. High quality construction and natural fiber fabric mean a lot to me, touching did transmit those qualities immediately. This row of clothes is a self portrait, a view within and a guide for the future. The feelings that were elicited by the process needed some air and I am holding and considering what they told me. My closet is clean, I no longer have an ironing basket, I feel I might like to go shopping. Okay.