I was on my library’s website recently, looking for a book someone recommended. I ended up having to request an inter-library loan, which I’m still waiting on, but in the sidebar, a different book called “Happy Money” showed up as a recommendation.
I was like, “Hmm, well, that’s a good pairing of two things I care about!” and I put it on hold.

It’s written by a Japanese author by the name of Ken Honda, and as I read it, I wondered if it was a translation, because the language felt a little stiff. I googled and sure enough, it was originally published in Japanese.

I remember feeling a similar way when I read “The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up” by Marie Kondo.
I’ll bet if you read either of those books in Japanese, they flow much better. Unfortunately, I do not know Japanese, and I will not ever in this lifetime; I’m just over here struggling to get some basic Spanish down so I can talk to my patients. Ha.
So, the Japanese-to-English translation will have to do for me.
Speaking of Marie Kondo…
In the book that launched her to American fame, Marie Kondo suggested talking to your items as you declutter, telling them things like, “Thank you for your service to me.” or, “Thank you for teaching me that hot pink blazers are not for me.”
(Hehe.)

And even though I’ve been living in the Western world my entire life, where we make a harder distinction between animate and inanimate objects, I do see the value of this.
For me, it’s less about talking to the object and more about finding a sense of appreciation for the object and what it has done for me. That can make it easier to let an item go without guilt.
For instance, if I bought something that turned out to be very wrong for me, it’s helpful to recognize that this purchase taught me something, like that hot pink blazers are not for me. I can appreciate the lesson, and I can let the blazer go.
(I have not, in fact, bought a hot pink blazer. I already know that’s not the vibe for my neutral-preferring self. 😉 )

Me reluctantly wearing a blazer for an online presentation. It was free from my Buy Nothing group. Oh, and note the locket that I recently glued together.
Saying, “Thank you.” when you have to spend money
Honda suggests that when money leaves you (aka, you have to spend it!), you can be “grateful for how the money served you, or grateful for what it is bringing you now.”
(p. 47 in my hardcover library version)
I love this idea, especially for those of us who have a hard time spending money.

Basically, it’s a way of focusing on the benefits your money is buying for you, and that’s particularly useful for purchases that aren’t super fun.
When you spend money on a concert ticket or a long-sought-after pair of shoes, it’s easy to see what the money is bringing you! This is less obvious when you are paying a plumber.
A few ways this can play out for me:
When I pay my rent, I can think, “I’m buying a lovely, peaceful place for Zoe and me to live this month.”

When I buy new tires, I can think, “I’m buying a safe, slip-free driving experience.”

When I pay my accountant, I can think, “I’m buying myself freedom from having to deal with all the complicated tax situations that come with owning an S-corp.”
When I pay my dentist bill, I can think, “I’m buying the ability to continue chewing my food!”

Healthy teeth do make for a better smile too!
When I fill my gas tank, I can think, “I’m buying the ability to drive where I need/want to go.”

I love this way of reframing these purchases; it makes them feel happier and less stressful. Which is the whole point of a book titled “Happy Money”. 😉

Marcia
Monday 8th of December 2025
I love Marie Kondo!
I think I'd like this book too.
I recently had a colonoscopy and my medical aid (what we call it in South Africa) pays for the procedure entirely if done in the surgeon's rooms, but there is a co-payment if done in hospital.
I was grumpy about the co-pay at first but then I remembered that at least I DO have savings for exactly a time such as this. Because I do want to be in a hospital for procedures in case anything goes wrong :)
Ruth
Friday 5th of December 2025
Those items in my closet that I consistently avoid wearing (or other items I avoid using) - I've started to appreciate that I'm figuring out that they aren't working for me! So much easier to let them go!
I JUST did this with some plates this morning. When they'd come up high enough in the stack that they should have been next used, I'd actually put them on the bottom of the stack so I could use the "better" plates below!
How crazy is this? So putting them in the giveaway box was a HUGE relief!
I did this with some shirts I've held onto for YEARS (without wearing!) a couple of months ago. Slowly but surely...!
Dee
Thursday 4th of December 2025
Saying goodbye and thank you to our things that we pass on or need to spend money on makes us more grateful. Grateful we have the ability to earn money and grateful we live in a country where items we choose are abundant. I love both of these ideas. Even if we don't have loads of money what we do have should make us thankful for it when so many have nothing.
Ashley B
Thursday 4th of December 2025
A coworker who lived in Japan helped me connect the dots on Marie Kondo's thanking of inanimate objects as part of the religious practices of Shintoism in Japanese culture, where it is believed that all objects including inanimate objects of a spirit or energy. There are a few articles on the topic if you search Marie Kondo, Shinto, etc. I thought it was interesting at the least.
ms.b214
Thursday 4th of December 2025
I guess, in the scheme of lemons/lemonade, I've always been so happy to pay my rent and then my mortgage because it meant I had succeeded in having my own home, under my own control, for another 30 days.
Honestly, it's more than just happy. It's a mix of relief, happiness and pride all mixed in with some sort of anxiety relief. While not as strong of a feeling, I get this every time I'm able to buy myself something I truly need, or for an experience that also reminds me that I'm in control now.
Working on the anxiety of buying random things.