Komono Click: Dvds and Cds

I did it.

Final count:

• 10 music cds (physical)
• 12 movie dvds (physical)
• 1 leap of faith into the digital cloud

The question I kept returning to is “Who am I today?”

From over 300 dvds and cds down to less than 24.

On this second time through KonMari I am pushing to find the click in each category. I am challenging my neurological wiring that has my brain send out wild panic signals when I put something that no longer sparks joy into the donate pile.

Guess what? I don’t listen to physical music cds anymore. I haven’t in years. I don’t have easy access to a cd player, my current laptop does not have a cd slot, and I have zero interest in setting up a cd player.

I do not need to keep or maintain kind of “historical entertainment diary” of my tastes, moods, and likes from over the decades. More to the point, over the past many years I have become someone who generally prefers silence over any kind of music.

Nostalgia, even strong nostalgia, is not the same thing as spark joy

I let go of a ton of nostalgia. I am starting to recognize the difference between nostalgia and spark joy. The former is a good feeling rooted in the past but with no life left in it—the latter is a good feeling with spirit, zing, and relevance to who I am today.

Sometimes I found myself worrying I would “forget” who I used to be. I let that fear go. I am trusting myself that I will always remember the important parts of myself. I do not need 300 dvds and cds to remind me of who I used to be.

Digital magic is this—the freedom to select out of the air only what I want to listen to for today

Husband has had a digital music “family plan” for over a year. I was resistant to using it. But it costs the same to me if I listen to zero or one or a hundred cds online. Digital service is something that sparks joy for him (he listens to hours a days) and when I checked in with him, he is committed to staying and paying for digital.

I’m a free-range listener now. I no longer need my physical music cds. It feels a bit scary and a bit freeing. The up and coming generation will largely never struggle with groaning shelves of vinyl records or stacks and stacks of dvds and cds. They will not cling to a cd cover and fret about what it means to let it go. Living on the cloud is their normal air.

When I checked streaming availability of my favorite cds, only 10 were not available. But I also realized I had no interest in listening to the majority of my old collection. I resisted the idea of looking up several hundred album titles and stuffing my play lists with digital clutter. I added 16 digital albums to my digital playlists and was done.

Sudden Spark Joy

Rediscovering my favorite JS Bach cds. Listening to Bach’s Oboe Concertos performed by Heinz Holliger for the first time in over 20 years. Wow.

Now that I am down to just a handful, the handful that remains is being actively enjoyed.

Fear and Freedom

We have been on the digital cloud for movies for many years now. Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime have us covered. We will never be truly bored. I kept a handful of Christmas dvds out of sentimentality and let the rest go.

The challenge here was in trusting digital services—that their selections will remain broad and their prices stay within financial reach. How does one confront these kinds of unknowns?

We are more resourceful and resilient than we think

If I were suddenly without our subscription services I will be resourceful—the public library, public radio, free concerts, and the many free music videos on youtube and vimeo. I will be resilient—I can easily survive without “my favorite” music for long stretches of time. As I keep discovering, I love silence.

I am feeling a new freedom. I am choosing my things to include in my life rather than the past demanding weight and space. The digital world creates an access to living lightly on the cloud and I am starting to enjoy the leap.