Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Has it been that long?

So, blogging is not my top priority in life.  (Surprise, surprise!)  And this is a blog about voluntary simplicity, which makes me feel like I should never stress about fitting in time to write.  But, wow!  Has it really been over a year since I posted?!  Yikes.

What have I been doing in that time? 

Raising my kids.

Dealing with some health issues (mine and other family members).

Traveling.

Volunteer work.

Blogging is not my top priority, but those things are: family, wellness, travel and helping others.  Anything else is a cherry on top!


 

Monday, May 19, 2014

Unexpected Gifts

So, our family has gone through three different major simplifying life changes that cut our household income approximately in half.  Each one has been a little scary initially.  But we're frugal and we're savers.  And we've planned a lot before each one of these life changes.  So ultimately we didn't have any real serious concerns.  And we never had any regrets.  Quite the opposite.

But one of the things we've experienced each time was the prospect of cutting out (more!) luxuries from our family budget.  This last major life change was in some ways the most jarring.  It took our family to the lowest income level we've ever had.  Again, we'd planned a lot beforehand and knew it was possible.  But especially in the beginning we really had to tighten our belt.  We didn't go out to eat much previously, but we cut it out completely for a full year.

I'm not into Coach purses, my husband doesn't want a sports car.  Neither of us drinks or gambles.  But travel and eating out are our two weaknesses.  So this was a sacrifice.  But we knew it was not forever.  And frankly, some people never get to go out to restaurants.  We're blessed to have eaten out as many times as we have in our lives.  And we were confident that we would again at another point in our life.

But one thing that was really interesting was that once we began this year long restaurant fast, we began to receive gift cards to eat out. 

One friend gave me a Starbuck's card when I left my job.  I never buy fancy coffee for myself, so that was a real treat. 

Another friend completely out of the blue sent me a gift card for a national restaurant chain.  She was excited for and proud of our major life change.  She was also very thoughtful and realized we were having to cut back to do it, so she wanted to treat us to a night out.  We really enjoyed that a lot! 

Yet another friend recently gifted me a Starbuck's card--just as I had pretty much squeezed the last few cents out of the first one. 

And perhaps the most amazing instance of all this was a total stranger who came up to me and my kids at a grocery store.  He explained that someone had given him a gift card for a national restaurant chain but it was not his cup of tea.  He asked if I'd like to have the card.  Initially, I thought this a strange question, but he was an elderly man and didn't seem dangerous.  :)  It was a restaurant we'd frankly never been to, and our whole family had a terrific time.

Oh, and did I mention that we won a $25 gift card at our local grocery store?!  We never win anything.  We haven't used it yet, but have plans to treat ourselves to a fancy home cooked meal with it.  We're going to splurge on some ingredients we don't normally buy.

These serendipitous gifts to eat out (or eat in as in the last example) were such luxurious treats.  In our year of fasting from restaurants, we really appreciated them.  There is nothing like fasting from something to make you appreciate it more!

And as a person of faith, I see the hand of God in all this.  We never got restaurant gift cards in the past, this was unique and special.  And it came at a time when we most appreciated these treats.  Very special.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Keeping Up With the Joneses

A couple years ago at my church, our pastor had a woman in our congregation give a talk about her family's struggles to get their finances under control.  At the time, our community had been hard hit by the Great Recession.  Many were out of work.  So many had lost or were going to lose their homes.  Times were rough.  Our congregation offers Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University, a course on money management.  The talk was intended to encourage others to take the course to get on better footing financially.

I remember when the woman was giving her talk, she shared that her family had spent more than they needed to on a fancy home, nice cars and nice clothes.  The pastor interrupted and asked her why they had spent more than they should have on such things.  Without any need to reflect, the woman said it was a case of "keeping up with the Joneses."  In other words, they had felt social pressure to spend money on things to appear affluent and comfortable. 

I was stunned by this response.  This woman and her family seemed so self-assured.  They were people of great faith.  I was shocked that such people would care what the Joneses--or anyone else thought about them.

But I've thought about it over the years, and am no longer shocked.  It is human nature for us to care what others think about us.  In our culture, we don't like people to think we are poor, suffering economically or not able to afford whatever we want.  We don't want to be pitied.  And we want to fit in. 

Particularly here in the 'burbs, we often have a distorted sense of others' finances.  We often think that others are doing better than they are.  They have nice things, go nice places.  So we figure they must be doing well financially. 

But if the Great Recession has taught my husband and me anything, it was to not believe the facades we were shown.  To recognize facades are not an accurate representation of reality.  When the economy tanked, we were shocked that people had misrepresented being laid off.  We were shocked at all the people in our social circle who lost their homes.  At one point, it seemed like almost everyone we knew was impacted by the economic collapse. 

I like to think that I am mature and secure enough that I don't care what others think about me and my family.  Maybe I don't obsess about it, but I am not immune to it.  And in the 'burbs where everyone is putting up facades and trying to show they are living the good life, it can be awkward and even embarrassing when you choose to live a different way and not spend like everyone else.  And I think that type of awkwardness and embarrassment is why many keep on spending instead of choosing a different lifestyle that might enable them to live a more fulfilling life.

For this reason, I'm starting a new series called "Keeping Up With the Joneses."  The point of posts in this series will be for me to share concrete examples of situations where my family and I have felt social pressures to spend money, and to describe how we have (or have not) overcome such social pressures.  I hope it will be an encouragement.  In our culture, we don't discuss financial problems openly, so it comes as a shock with others admit financial limitations.  This series will be somewhat unique for that reason.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Opportunity Costs

When I was going to apply to law school, I took a couple courses in Economics at a local community college.  I had never taken any as an undergrad, but I read somewhere that everyone who goes to law school should know something about economics.  I found it fascinating and wished in retrospect I'd taken Economics earlier, I even wished I had majored in it. 

One concept I learned in my basic Economics coursework was "opportunity cost."  It is defined differently in different settings but expresses the idea of the value of alternative choices in a given situation.  For example, if I choose to write for this blog, then I forgo spending time with my family, reading a good book, and giving my dogs a bath.  At this period in time, I've valued expressing myself in this blog over those other options.  The opportunity costs of posting to this blog are time with family, reading a book and bathing my dogs.  I've sacrificed those things to write on this blog today.

Life is full of opportunity costs.  We are constantly making decisions of how to use our time and other resources.  But we don't usually stop to consider that is what we are doing.  Typically, we are so caught up in the hectic-ness of life to realize what we are sacrificing when.  And many times we have no real option but to keep on doing what we are doing.  We have responsibilities--financial and otherwise--that restrict our options.

But sometimes we do have choices that we may not realize.  It can be hard to realize those choices because it would require thinking outside the box and making choices that others in our social circle don't make.  We humans are used to thinking in more traditional ways.  We are creatures of habit.  And it is very hard to go against the herd.  It takes vision and courage.

One reason I started this blog was to help others realize that they had choices and it might be possible to live a more fulfilling life.  Like most folks, I assumed that I'd spend the bulk of my life working frantically at a job until I was in my 60s.  But then I happened upon books about voluntary simplicity and in particular the book Your Money or Your Life by Joe Dominguez and Vikki Robin.  I began to see a different way of living that was more sustainable and more fulfilling.  I'd love for others to have similar epiphanies.

Right now I know people who are not living their best life because they are caught up in the materialism of modern American life.  They are trying to keep up with the Joneses.  They think they cannot live without certain "necessities."  They think they'd have to win the lotto to live their lives doing things they enjoy.  But that may not be the case.

I know women who would love to be stay-at-home moms instead of being away from their kids all day at a job they don't really care about. 

I know people who would like to adopt and provide a child in need a forever home.

I know people who would like to do mission work or work in the nonprofit sector.

I know people who don't mind working, but feel they are betraying their values by working in lucrative industries where the product or services may not provide social value or may create social harm.

I know people in these situations who feel stuck.  They'd rather do something else with their time and other resources, but feel like there is no other choice.  These are middle class professional people.  And to the extent that they want to continue their current spending and standard of living, they are right.  They are stuck in their current jobs--unless they are willing to make changes.

If eating out frequently or grabbing a latte on the way to work is the priority, they are stuck.

If annual vacations to luxury resorts is the priority, they are stuck.

If driving a gas guzzling vehicle is the priority, they are stuck.

If getting professional manicures or pedicures is the priority, they are stuck.

If having a smart phone for everyone in the family is the priority, they are stuck.

If buying fashionable clothes and accessories regularly is the priority, they are stuck.

If having cable TV is the priority, they are stuck.

If sending one's kid to drama camp or classes to earn a black belt are the priority, they are stuck.

If having seen all the Oscar nominated films prior to Oscar night is the priority, they are stuck.

If eating lots of meat and/or all organic produce is the priority, they are stuck.

If filling your home with junk and needing a larger home to store all the junk are priorities, they are stuck.

But note that eating out, grabbing a latte, vacations, gas guzzling vehicles, mani/pedis, smart phones, fashions, first-run movies, and a home filled with junk--these are costs you are choosing to pay if you'd rather do something else with your life.  Following your passion may be the opportunity cost to spending your money on such luxuries and needing to keep working to pay for such luxuries.

At least out here in the 'burbs, the things I listed above tend to be considered necessities by many.  They cannot conceive of a life without such things.  But if you haven't before, I encourage you to try to imagine life without them.  Ask yourself if these things are truly necessities or if you might live without them.  You may be surprised by the answer you come to.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Pursuing One's Passion

I'm at this unique and privileged point in my life.  Due to good career opportunities, our family's frugality and my husband's gainful employment, I'm in a position that I don't have to work for a paycheck.  I'm staying home with my kids and pursuing projects that are meaningful to me. 

I'm well into my 40s, and there is so much I want to do with whatever time I have left.  I wish I had several lives to live! 

I'm sure if we all reflected on it, we'd all have things we'd love to do if earning a living were not the primary focus of our time.  Everyone would have a different list, but to give you just a sense, here (in no particular order) is a non-exhaustive list of things I'd love to do now that I'm no longer having to work for a paycheck:

  • work as a missionary abroad or in an underserved community in our own nation
  • develop an LGBT ministry within my church community
  • become a foster parent
  • adopt more children
  • hike El Camino pilgrimage in Northern Spain with my husband and/or my kids
  • backpack around Iceland, Ireland and Great Britain
  • cultivate an abundant vegetable garden to share with people in my community who are food insecure
  • get my Ph.D. in gender studies
  • become a realtor serving in underserved neighborhoods to help revitalize communities and empower families to become homeowners
  • host an exchange student
  • start a nonprofit business to provide jobs for marginalized people
  • minister to people in prison
  • do pro bono work with people in custody for immigration law violations
  • participate in more protests
  • write a novel
So, this may not look anything like your list.  My passions are not yours.  I only share this list with you to give you a sense of the kind of dreams I have, and to encourage you to have dreams of your own.

But I personally have found it hard to mix pursuing my passion with earning a paycheck.  I went into teaching originally with great idealism, but my own self interest caused me to view it differently than I would have otherwise.  I had to please my principal and vice-principal to avoid getting fired, so I had to tow the party line and not rock the boat.  I had to play politics instead of focusing on helping like I wanted to.  Eventually I became disillusioned with the whole thing and left for law school. 

Something similar happened when I became a lawyer.  And I've seen the same thing happen to others.  People initially go into a profession with the thoughts of helping people, but they get caught up in workplace politics and preservation of their own economic interests such that doing good becomes secondary, if not tertiary or worse.

But I've noticed something different happens when you are doing nonpaid work.  During my hiatus, I've been doing some volunteer work through my church.  I've worked hard, enjoyed it and feel I've made important contributions.  But I'm completely liberated from the worries of pleasing those in charge.  If they don't like everything I do, I frankly don't care.  They cannot fire me.  They cannot give me a bad performance review.  They have no economic carrot to dangle, no economic stick to threaten.  How incredibly liberating!!  I can just focus on helping and doing good.  How wonderful.

Note, however, that I didn't get to this point by winning the lottery.  More on that later.  But for right now, I just want to make the point that in order to pursue your passion, you may need to simplify.  If you want to spend more time on your passions--whether that is doing good in the world, pursuing creative endeavors or spending more time cultivating relationships with loved ones--then it is unlikely in my opinion that you can expect to be well-compensated for those activities.  You may need to live a simpler life in order to pursue your passion.  That may seem daunting to many.  But I don't think it is out of reach.  And one of the main reasons I'm writing this blog is to encourage you to make it happen.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Simply Sunday #13

Happy Sunday!  I hope you are having a terrific one.

Here is a brief list of how I incorporated voluntary simplicity into my life this week:

(1) Exercise.  Voluntary simplicity involves focusing on people (not things).  Too often we get so busy we neglect our health.  That was a real struggle for me when I was still in the rat race.  I've never been skinny, but early in my career I began to pack on pounds due to my insane hours at my desk.  That continued for a number of years until I became a mom and I wanted to be healthier for my kids.  I've been a fairly healthy eater throughout my adult years, but lack of exercise had been my pitfall.  So, as a young mom, I joined the Y near my office and faithfully went to workout every work day at lunch time.  Over time, I lost over 30 pounds.  And I kept it off for several years.  I also aspired to lose a bit more but was not able to.  To do so, I really needed to up my exercise, but I just didn't have enough time for that.  I barely had time for what I was doing.  But then things changed, my professional demands intensified greatly.  My ever more demanding work life meant I had little control over what I ate at times, and eventually I had to give up my dedicated exercise schedule.  Despite having kept the weight off for several years, once my work demands forced me to give up regular exercise, it all came back--and surprisingly fast.  How depressing!  I realized that the only way to change the situation was to exercise regularly again, and I vowed that when I stepped down from my paid gig and had more control over my schedule, I would get back into the swing of it.  That worked well initially this fall, but then we went on several family trips and Thanksgiving arrived.  Basically, my schedule got crazy and my exercise schedule fell by the wayside.  Earlier in the fall, I had re-lost some weight, but things stalled as my exercise waned.  This week, however, I've renewed my resolve.  I'm proud to report that I did not miss one day of exercise.  There are so many benefits to exercise.  It is not just about weight loss or weight control.  When I exercise regularly, I am a happier person on so many levels.  It really is not to be missed.  So, I share this in the hopes that it will encourage anyone who struggles in this area.  Particularly moms of young children, we find it difficult to find time to take care of our health.  But I think the flight attendant advice is apt in many aspects of life--we need to put our own oxygen mask on before we attempt to put on the masks of our children.  If we expire before we get anyone else's mask on, we're not helping anyone.  It is not noble to sacrifice oneself in that manner.  Taking care of ourselves means we're more likely to be here and be in a position to help others.

(2) Meditation.  This week was the second time I made it to my church's weekly meditation session.  This time, it was a "drumming meditation," which was something new for me.  Frankly, this was not my cup of tea.  All the pounding of the drums gave me a headache and stressed me out a bit.  But it was great to try something new.  The drums were pretty.  And the second half of the session involved just a regular meditation, which was nice.  It's always important to try new things.  Even if it was not my favorite type of meditation, I learned a lot and was inspired by the people who attended.

(3) Advent.  As a Christ-follower, I'm preparing for the celebration of Christmas.  That celebration means different things to different people.  After all, many non-religious people celebrate Christmas as a secular holiday.  To me, at this point in my faith journey, I think Christmas means reflecting on what it means to have Jesus in my life.  Carrie Underwood bravely took on the iconic role of "Maria" in a live TV version of The Sound of Music recently.  I don't follow her on social media, but I've heard that she responded to the barrage of vicious criticism of her performance by simply stating that there are a lot of people who need Jesus in their lives and she will be praying for them.  I've been thinking about that response.  To me, what she is saying rings true--a lot of people are worn down by the negativity of the world, the lack of hope, and the absence of love in their lives.  They don't know any better than to attack others.  To me, having Jesus in your heart means understanding that there is a better way to live--to have hope and love in your heart.  If we keep Jesus in our hearts, then we will radiate his hope and love to others who need that encouragement and peace.  This week, I've tried to be mindful of this.  I've tried to reach out to others to encourage them in various ways.  And I've thanked those who have done the same for me.  Christmas is a time of light in the darkness of winter.  I believe we're called to be light to one another.

Cheers!  And have a lovely Sunday.  If you celebrate Christmas in a religious sense, I also wish you a meaningful Advent!

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Thanksgiving

OK, we're within 48 hours of the big day. 

Thanksgiving is a fabulous holiday.  The point is to give thanks to one's deity for the blessings in our lives.  And it is a secular holiday, so even if you believe in no deity, you can still take time out to be mindful of your good fortune.  Modern medicine has proven that such mindfulness contributes to a range of physical and mental health benefits.

Beyond giving thanks for blessings, a secondary point to Thanksgiving is to gather together with others.  We spend time with family and/or friends.  It is considered less than ideal to spend the holiday alone.  In my adult life, when I've known folks who would be alone on the holiday, I always invite them to join my family.  They are always glad to get the invite.  It would be depressing to spend Thanksgiving by oneself.

Note that both giving thanks (or mindfulness) and spending times with loved ones are quintessentially part of the ethos of voluntary simplicity.  So in some ways, for those who embrace a simpler life, Thanksgiving is our most important holiday.  What could be better than gathering together with people you love (or hopefully at least like) to eat some yummy food and spend some quality time.

But in my lifetime, I've seen Thanksgiving become less and less recognizable. 

First, it degenerated to a day when people sit in front of the TV watching football all day, maybe while munching on a turkey drumstick.  Despite being native Texans, our family watches only one football game a year--typically the Super Bowl.  And frankly even then, we're only in it for the nachos. To me, if you are staring at a TV screen all day and screaming for some gladiator to mercilessly tackle another, you have overlooked the point of Thanksgiving.

And there have always been issues about going overboard with the feast. Some women (and occasionally men) who are responsible for preparing the feast for their families feel tremendous stress to provide a dining experience that Martha Stewart with her team of staff could produce. I know women who get up in the middle of the night and are virtually slaves of their own kitchen on Thanksgiving while everyone else is elsewhere having fun.  They fret for weeks over concocting the right menu.  Then they don't get to enjoy the day because they are trying to produce a dizzying array of dishes in a finite timeframe.  They are worried about being judged or not adequately impressing their guests.  Again, that misses the point of Thanksgiving.

But by far, the worst perversion of Thanksgiving has come in recent years with the encroachment of the commercial exploitation of Christmas.  I am a Christian of over a quarter century, so I can tell you with some authority that no where in either the Hebrew Scripture or the New Testament is there even a suggestion that one must stand in line to buy a Play Station or plasma screen TV in order to properly celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace.

It always made me sad that after the simple calm and gratitude of Thanksgiving, people would head out the very next day to spend hours in stores.  It seemed like a cruel irony.  We spend time giving thanks, then we run around like maniacs trying to accumulate more and more because apparently what we just gave thanks for was insufficient.

However, things got worse over time.  At least initially Black Friday started at a normal time.  We could enjoy our Thanksgiving and recover a bit Thursday night and Friday morning.  But then retailers began to open their doors earlier and earlier Friday morning.  I began to know people who would plan their Thanksgiving around that.  They had to finish Thanksgiving at an earlier hour, so they could go to bed early to wake up early to get to the stores.  How perverse!

But then a few years ago, the unthinkable began to happen.  Some retailers began to open for a few hours on Thursday evening to get a jump start on Friday shopping.  I wasn't even aware of this until a friend of mine explained that she and a friend were combining their families' Thanksgiving celebration so they could finish early and hit the special Thursday sale while the husbands watched football.  This is a dear friend of mine.  Her plans just depressed me more than I can say.

Meanwhile, the deals have gotten more and more attractive--luring more and more customers in either on Thursday or at crazy early hours on Friday morning.  The term "door buster" was coined with sad irony because people desperate to get limited deals on waffle irons and computers trampled other human beings in the process. 

And that is after many camp for days, sometimes as much as a week, outside a store to get such deals.  Think about that.  Where does one go to the bathroom?  It is cold at night outside, even in the Sunbelt.  Forcibly, one has totally foregone any feigned attempt to celebrate Thanksgiving if one spent it in a tent outside a Best Buy.  Even if it is the biggest TV or snazziest iPad or gaming device, is it really worth days of your life when you might be doing other things?  What a deeply sad state of affairs.

On social media, I've seen people decry the deterioration of Thanksgiving in this way.  So I know I'm not the last person in America to feel this way, though it sometimes feels like it.  Many such persons vilify the retailers for offering such deals at such times.  There is some validity to that finger wagging.  But others rightfully point out that the retailers are simply meeting a demand.  It is the consuming public that is to blame for this state of affairs. 

Personally, I think there is some truth to both sides.  We see a similar situation in the disastrous war on drugs in this country.  We vilify the parasitic, often violent drug dealers.  They are to blame and if we just round them all up, the problem would go away.  Only it doesn't work that way because our nation has such a huge demand for narcotics that others rise up to fill that demand.  I would never defend drug dealers.  I think they are exploitive and greedy, doing unconscionable harm.  But it is too easy to just blame the dealers when the demand is apparently so great.  We need to look at our own contribution to the situation in creating the demand the dealers meet. 

Very similar dynamic with regard to retail sales at Thanksgiving.  I do hold responsible the stores that offer these crazy door busters at insane times.  But even if Walmart and Target refrained, other stores would spring up to fill the void because a lot of otherwise sane folks are willing to sacrifice Thanksgiving for cheap consumer goods.  Shame on us all.

But I invite you to be different, to take the path less traveled so to speak.  I encourage you to focus on the true meaning of Thanksgiving--to create a simple and enjoyable meal so you can spend the day just relaxing and enjoying the company of your friends and/or family. 

Moreover, I encourage you to not be a part of this modern cultural madness.  My husband and I are frugal and try to be good stewards of our finances.  We buy things when they are on sale whenever possible.  But I'm not even looking at any of the ads for this week and no one in our family is going shopping Thursday or Friday.

I know others take similar pledges.  On social media, I saw one young man dismiss all the handwringing about the perversion of Thanksgiving by pointing out that if we abstain from all the consumption, we are not impacted in the least by the madness of Black Friday spilling over onto Thanksgiving.  I was struck by what an insensitive, privileged statement this was.  Based on the context of this statement, I glean that this man was well-educated and had a good job that did not require him to work on Thanksgiving.  Not everyone has those advantages. 

I know several people who work at grocery stores who have to work all day on Thursday.  And it has nothing to do with door busters.  Their corporate bosses decided it was important to stay open for all the folks on Thursday who begin to make the mashed potatoes but run out of butter or who realize they didn't buy enough sparkling apple juice for everyone who will be at their table.  Don't forget the folks working this other end of retail sales at grocery stores.  If you pledge to abstain from shopping during Thanksgiving, make sure you don't breach that pledge by running to the Ralph's or Piggly Wiggly for last minute groceries.  Plan ahead, make sure you have what you need for all your recipes, and find work-arounds on Thursday if you don't.

In closing, I just encourage you to do your part to take back Thanksgiving from the retail madness and restore it to its original, beautiful purpose.  Take time to appreciate your life and the people in it.  Enjoy!

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Simply Sunday #11

So this week, I don't think I did all that much to simplify my life.  But the point of voluntary simplicity is not simplifying for simplicity's sake.  It is to simplify so that you are spending your finite hours doing things that are worthy of your time, not wasting your life on pointless pursuits.  I have done several things that are in line with an attempt to get more out of life.  Here are a couple things I did (or didn't do) this week that are in line with this ethos:

(1) I'm appreciating my belongings.  I have been cleaning out my house slowly this fall.  Trying to get rid of things that I don't use or need.  I've given a lot to thrift stores.  And cleaning out helps me to see what I own.  I've realized some things I was holding on to are just broken and need to be thrown out.  And some things I'm rediscovering with gladness.  I recently realized my 17 year old tea kettle needed replacement.  I did that last week and I've been enjoying tea again.  I've even learned out to make chai latte, which is a fun way to start my day.  Several of the items in this list flow from this new found pleasure in tea drinking.

(2) I had some herb tea one afternoon.  I always start my day with some tea for the caffeine.  But that is all I have.  I'm too sensitive to caffeine to have more than that.  And I'm always running around, too busy to have tea without caffeine.  The other day, however, I made time to make myself a little pot of herb tea and enjoyed it throughout the afternoon.  What a lovely little luxury!

(3) I rearranged my teas.  So, I wasn't even drinking tea much, but I had quite a collection.  I've been slowing working my way through it this fall.  But particularly as I have been drinking more tea this week, I've found that the little containers I used to organize different types were chaotic.  So, I took a few minutes (while waiting for water to boil!) to organize my stash.  Now I can find non-caffeinated teas quickly if I get a moment to enjoy some.

(4) I have been focusing more on relationships.  I haven't gotten as much done in terms of de-cluttering our home this week, but that is ok.  I'm focusing more time on relationship.  I am blessed to have a lot of wonderful folks in my life, but that takes time to make time for us to spend together.  A good chunk of my free time this week went to that.  Our garage is still a disaster area, but still it was time well spent.

(5) I have also been focusing more on my dreams for the next phase of my life.  There are several different "projects" I want to embark on as I enter this new season of my life.  It is hard to get started and to figure out all the details.  But I'm not getting deterred.  I'm moving forward and making solid steps to make things happen.

(6) I've fed my spirit.  There are a couple things that fall into this category but one is that I went to a meditation class offered at my church this week.  They have been offering these every week for a long time.  They always sounded neat, but I couldn't ever find time to go.  When I was working, Sunday nights were a busy time when we were all trying to get ready for the week.  And this fall, I've been keeping a standing commitment with my mom to attend a concert series.  Now that is over, and I finally got a chance to attend the meditation class. 

As I prepared to go to the class, I was nervous.  Meditation is a little whoo-whoo in my book.  I'm a native Texan.  No offense to anyone, but culturally I get a little skeptical about things that are at all new agey.  And I'm a Type A personality with a never ending to-do list.  It is hard for me to sit for long periods and "do nothing." 

In college, I also had a bad experience at a Quaker quiet meeting.  Only five of us showed up.  Everyone was so sweet, but we almost immediately went into a 60 minute session of everyone sitting quietly in silent prayer in close quarters.  I spent the whole time desperately trying to not look at my girl friend whom I had convinced to go with me, I knew we'd burst into a fit of giggles if we made eye contact.  I was also struggling to not giggle even with my eyes closed.  And I was very worried my tummy would grumble because it was lunch time.  It was not exactly a spiritual experience as I prayed over and over: "Lord, help me not laugh or have a growling tummy!"

With that history, and some trepidation, I went to the meditation class at my church.  It was lovely.  And I did fine.  No urge to giggle.  I don't think I had any tummy noises, though I heard some around me.  That is fine.  And I was amazed at how long the class lasted.  I had told my family I'd be home in an hour.  The class lasted 1 1/2 hours!  But I thoroughly enjoyed myself and felt at peace.  I've also felt like I've had several important epiphanies and important moments of self-understanding this week.  Anyhow, I cannot go again this week, but I am going to make a tremendous effort to go again soon.

I hope you are having a lovely Sunday!

Friday, November 22, 2013

Back to the Backstory

OK, so I explained how I first came across the concept of voluntary simplicity by accident at a difficult time in my life.  I was running fast on the treadmill wondering if this was all that life had in store, hoping there might be more.  I was so moved by Mr. Shut's book.  And I sensed real truth in the words and ideas I found in its pages.  (Actually, Truth with a capital "t.")  The life I was living did not seem to match my core values as a Christ follower.  My life did not immediately change, but I did have a huge epiphany that scrambling to climb the corporate ladder was pointless and not what I wanted out of life.

But my life did not change over night for several reasons. 

First, a lot of folks wish they had the opportunity to be on that ladder.  I had worked very hard and had good luck.  Plenty of folks I went to law school with would have given much for access to the ladder.  And I was doing a better job climbing it than others on the ladder with me at that point.  Moreover, the nature of the job market in corporate America was such that if I stepped off the ladder, I would never get that opportunity again.  Once off the ladder, someone else takes your spot and you are deemed to not be qualified enough to climb any more.  I'm not a rash person, so I didn't just finish Mr. Shut's book, then walk into my boss's office and quit.

Plus by that time, my husband and I were parents, and we were anticipating the adoption of our second child very soon.  We also had a mortgage, car loans, as well as my student loans.  So, jumping off the treadmill immediately seemed implausible and irresponsible.  But something in my heart had changed.  I had become very aware of the futility of office politics and the emptiness of the suburban mini-mansions filled with stylish furnishings.

During that time of my life, when I thought about what did fill my life with meaning, what I wanted to fill it with instead of workplace pettiness and well-appointed homes, it was clear to me the answer was my family.  I had a husband I thought was pretty awesome, but we didn't get to spend enough time together.  We had an amazing toddler whom we never got to see except for brief period right before and after she went to bed.  For years, I'd heard that for working parents, "quality time" was key.  But I was finding that quality was rather pointless if the quantity was so scarce.  We had so little time with our daughter, we were about to have a second child in our family and we were scrambling to find time to do laundry or get some prepackaged food from the store.  My husband and I both had such demanding corporate jobs, we weren't living.  In retrospect, we were barely hanging on.

Finally, I had an even greater epiphany.  I was reading a number of books on voluntary simplicity at that point.  (More on those later!)  And I had realized that becoming a one income family would greatly simplify our lives and give us more time as a family.  My husband was on a business trip when I had this big epiphany, so I noodled on it a couple days before I got a chance to share it with him.  By then, I had thought it through more and realized that for a number of reasons, at least on paper, it made more sense for him to quit his job.  I made more money and he had been in his profession much longer than me, so he would more easily be able to get back into the work force later on in time.  He had been traveling in remote parts of Oklahoma visiting his company's oil fields when after several days he was somewhere where he got a bit of cell phone signal.  We only had a moment, so after he shared a bit about his trip, I blurted out my epiphany quickly.  He was outside on top of a windy hill, he asked, "You want me to do what?"  I repeated my brainstorm.  The phone went silent, I thought maybe he had lost signal.  I asked if he were still there.  His voice dropped deadpan and he simply said, "We're going to have to talk when I get home."

We did eventually talk about the idea at length.  Pretty quickly, he agreed about the logic of having one of us stay home, particularly after we adopted our second child.  It took more discussion, but soon he agreed that all signs seemed to point to him being the stay-at-home parent.  We were both so thrilled.  We made the decision with time to spare, so we had time to work at scaling back our spending, paying off some of our debt, and stocking away some savings.  By the time our second child came along, we were in good shape for him to leave his career.

So, we had several years when I was the sole breadwinner and we had more time as a family.  My husband took over all the household responsibilities, so when I was home, we could focus on being together and enjoying each other's company--not rushing to the dry cleaner's while trying to figure out we'd feed everyone for supper.  Those were good times.  But as I progressed in my career, I was constantly working to set barriers and eek out a personal life.  It was always a struggle.  And I had reason to fear that eventually I would lose in the battle to not have my career consume my life.  There were some sane, humane people in the managerial ranks at my company who had been somewhat supportive of my efforts at work-life balance.  But I could see the writing on the wall.  Those folks would be retiring before long and the men who were poised to take their place were single-minded and unsympathetic to anything but the bottom line. 

Due to this situation, I decided to make a huge career change and go into academia.  It is notoriously competitive to become a tenure-track professor, it is something people in my profession carefully plan and prepare for before going on the market.  However, on a last minute whim one year, I threw my hat in the ring and got very lucky.  It was scary.  Accepting the job meant giving up not only a very lucrative and stable career with my company, but my husband would be forever giving up on his career since we had to move to an entirely different part of the country where his resume would be less relevant.  But we took the plunge.  The lure of a much more flexible schedule and summers off at least in some respects was appealing.  I was also excited to do work that I thought I would find more meaningful.  I like mentoring young people, exploring ideas and writing.

Initially, my schedule was pretty good and life was great.  I've always enjoyed the people I worked with, but as an academic I particularly loved and respected my colleagues.  What a diverse, dedicated, talented group of folks.  But there were administrative issues.  We had three deans in my first three years.  All of that became more and more of a drain for the school's focus, and to my great disappointment the office politics became worse than anything I've ever experienced in any other workplace. 

Meanwhile, my children were getting older and I had felt like I had really missed out.  Their childhood had passed me by!  I'd always hoped and planned that we'd adopt again, but I blinked and found myself in my 40s.  It was dawning on me this was not something I could continue to push off into the nebulous future.  And in the midst of all this, my husband had gone back to school and had begun a new career in a helping profession.  The writing on the wall had become clear that now I needed to step off the career freeway for a while.

So that brings me up to the present day.  Homeschooling stay-at-home mom looking to possibly adopt again.  And finally having the time for life that I've craved for years.  Though even without a paid gig, there are still not enough hours in the day!

I want to flag that that has been just my journey towards voluntary simplicity, but that is certainly not the only path.  I've known people who've taken very different paths.  You don't have to be a parent or a white collar worker or married to embrace simplicity.  I think all it really takes is an awareness of the emptiness of our modern American lifestyle that focuses on working to consume more than we need, and a hope that there might be another way.

I'm here to encourage you that there is!



Thursday, October 24, 2013

Simpler Living, Compassionate Life: A Christian Perspective edited & compiled by Michael Schut (Part V: One More Thing)

One last thing I want to share about this wonderful book.  Fairly early on in the book, a passage that really got my attention was the following:

We take vacations, but we work so hard throughout the year that they become indispensable to our sanity.  The conventional wisdom that economic progress has given us more things as well as more leisure is difficult to sustain.

(p. 35)

This passage appeared in an essay about how our modern work load has been increasing over the last few decades, and we have so little time left over after our paid gigs that it leads to serious health and social problems.  It had a number of great points, but this one about vacations really hit home when I first read the book about a decade ago.

At that time, I was fairly early on in my career and also building a family.  Because I was a pretty junior employee at a very old school company that was not generous or flexible when it came to employee time off, I got just two weeks of vacation each year.  I know many have it even worse, they have no paid time off.  But two weeks out of the year to make a life is just not enough.  Especially when you are an "exempt" employee where "overtime" is unpaid and just expected in great quantities.  Being a corporate slave is draining. 

To make matters worse, because of the inflexibility of our company's policies, we had to use our few, precious vacation days for things other than true vacations where we might recharge our batteries.  For example, early on in my career, I remember being horrified when I spoke to one of the only moms in our office, and she explained that when her kids got sick and couldn't go to school, she had to take vacation time to stay home with them.  There were no sick days, no personal days and no flex time.  If you were not physically present in the office, you were docked vacation days for the absence.  At that point, I was not yet a parent, but it depressed me to think that one day if my kids ever had any illnesses, we might never get the opportunity to take a family vacation together because I'd have no time off from work left over.

Another time early in my career, I had an uncle who passed away after a long, slow decline.  Our family is small, so I didn't think twice that I needed to be present for the funeral.  It was out of town but in-state about four hours away.  Ours is a family of teachers, so my cousins thoughtfully arranged for the funeral to be on Dr. King's birthday, which is a national holiday and all the local schools were closed for the day.  The thought was no one would miss work to be at the funeral.  Not so for me as it would turn out.  I was stressed to find out later that the death of my uncle was not covered under the company bereavement policy.  And our company observed few national holidays. Dr. King's birthday was not one of them.  So, they took one of my few vacation days that year when I had to miss one day's work to attend a family funeral.  With so few days each year, I always plotted and planned carefully when I'd use each of those days, so being docked a day for the funeral really threw a fly into the ointment.  It also just seemed pretty heartless.

In those days, my co-workers and I were compensated pretty well in financial terms.  Indeed, I was making more money that I ever imagined I'd make, more than my parents had.  I had always just wanted to do interesting work and make enough to keep a roof over my head, so this was not something I had sought.  But we had no lives.  We had no time to enjoy the money we were making.  We had homes that we rarely saw.  We could afford to fly to exotic locations, but only for a couple days at a time.

My husband and I love traveling and early in our corporate careers, we had no children.  We took advantage of the situation to go to as many interesting places as possible in our brief windows of freedom.  But this line in the book really hit home.  Despite never being able to stay anywhere for more than a couple days, I was excited about the trips we were taking.  However, this passage in the book opened my eyes.  Was I really enjoying the trips and the adventure of visiting new places?  Or were these trips a necessary antidote to the overbearing grind of the corporate treadmill we were on?  I began to think that I was working and not really living 50 weeks of the year.  Those 2 weeks of vacation were the only real living I was doing.  I just didn't have time to enjoy life the rest of the year.  What a depressing thought! 

I pondered this dynamic a lot.  I didn't just go into my boss's office immediately and quit to go be a vagabond.  But I did begin to work hard to find ways to carve out more of a life from then on out.  Life is short, life is precious.  Wasting it to put in ridiculous hours of face time was not what I wanted.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Simpler Living, Compassionate Life: A Christian Perspective edited & compiled by Michael Schut (Part III: Random Passages That I Liked)

I am a reader.  I have earned several degrees, practiced a profession where reading was a mainstay, and then I spent the last part of my professional career as an academic where I read even more.  And on top of all those motivations, I also enjoy reading for pleasure. 

I've realized over the years that I'm a fairly kinesthetic learner.  I cannot just sit still and read.  To take in what I'm reading, I have to underline, highlight and/or make notes.  When I read a book or article, I like to flag what is most of interest to me and ideas I want to come back to. 

I took this approach when reading Simpler Living, Compassionate Life  for the first time years ago.  If you saw my copy of the book, it is marked up with a lot of yellow highlighting.

I am a fairly prolific highlighter, so I cannot share with you everything I flagged when reading the book.  But I'd like to share with you some passages that particularly got my attention and made an impression on me.  They are sort of a synopsis of not just this one particular book, but of the things that drew me to the concept of voluntary simplicity more generally.

My hope is that these random passages will whet your appetite and you'll read this amazing book as well.  In fact, I include page numbers so you can read these passage in their full context. 

And in doing so, maybe you'll find your own passages in the book that impact you in some meaningful way.  Enjoy!

p. 26 "Americans comprise only 5% of the world's population but consume 30% of its resources."

p. 27 "While voluntary poverty can be a beautiful offering of one's life, poverty itself can crush not only the body but the spirit as well."

p. 27 "Perhaps the prophetic word that simple living has to offer materialism centers around justice and freedom:  justice that can be lived through reduced consumption and more equitable distribution of the earth's finite resources, and acting justly toward the rest of creation:  freedom that allows each of us to move from life-draining acquisitiveness toward a joyful, generous spirit that recognizes the worth of all God's creatures."

p. 27  "But in our driven busyness we do not take time to listen.  We no longer know who we are and the 'still, small voice' is lost in the cacophony of voices urging us on to the next task.  Lacking the ability to listen and follow God's voice and our own inner direction, we become increasingly susceptible to the marketing of the good life.  We lose touch with the understanding that who we are is larger than simply what we do.  Into this hyper-productive life walks simplicity.  Simplicity requires us to slow down, to consider how our lives reflect who we are and what we value. . . If the abundant life is more than just consuming, it is also more than just producing."

p. 34 "There is no doubt that some purchases permanently enhance our lives.  But how much of what we consume merely keeps us moving on a stationary treadmill?  The problem with the treadmill is not only that it is stationary, but also that we have to work long hours to stay on it... the consumerist treadmill and long hour jobs have combined to form an insidious cycle of 'work-and-spend.'  Employers ask for long hours.  The pay creates a high level of consumption.  People buy houses and go into debt; luxuries become necessities; Smiths keep up with Joneses. . . Capitalism has brought a dramatically increased standard of living, but at the cost of a much more demanding worklife."

p. 35 "The juggling act between job and family is another problem area.  Half the population now says they have too little time for their families.  The problem is particularly acute for women: in one study, half of all employed mothers reported it caused either 'a lot' or an 'extreme' level of stress.  The same proportion feel that 'when I'm at home I try to make up to my family for being away at work, and as a result I rarely have any time for myself.'  This stress has placed tremendous burdens on marriages.  Two-earner couples have less time together, which researchers have found reduces the happiness and satisfaction of a marriage.  These couples often just don't have enough time to talk to each other."

p. 36 "Serious as these problems are, the most alarming development may be the effect of the work explosion on the care of children.  According to economist Sylvia Hewlett, 'child neglect has become endemic in our society.'  A major problem is that children are increasingly left alone, to fend for themselves while their parents are at work. . . Hewlett links the 'parenting deficit' to a variety of problems plaguing our country's youth: poor performance in school, mental problems, drug and alcohol use, and teen suicide.  According to another expert, kids are being 'cheated out of childhood. . . There is a sense that adults don't care about them."

p. 38 "In the past I read books that told me how to get more done during the day, how to find that extra hour so you could study French or learn photography.  I would try to do as many things as I could at one time.  Now I focus on doing less and slowing down.  I try to stop rushing, to practice mindfulness, to practice meditation.  I keep working at it, but still I have that nagging feeling--hurry, hurry."

p. 53 "Our hard and very urgent task is to realize that nature is not primarily a property to be possessed, but a gift to be received with admiration and gratitude.  How differently we would live if we always sensed that the nature around us is full of desire to tell us the great story of God's love, to which it points."

p. 67 "All of us struggle with the place of money in our lives.  There are no easy answers.  Yet whether rich or poor, by either American or global standards, money is surely one of our culture's most prevalent and powerful idols:  promising that which it cannot finally deliver."

p. 67 "Idolatry, whatever its object, represents the enshrinement of any other person or thing in the very place of God.  Idolatry embraces some person or thing, instead of God, as the source and rationalization of the moral significance of this life in the world for, at least, the idolater, though not, necessarily, for anybody else at all."

p. 75 "Now consider our economic system (the 'Big Economy,' Rasmussen, p. 111), the dominant global economy as it has developed in Western culture (and spread through the world).  Rather than a circle, we might envision a line.  At one end, capital, labor, and natural resources are input.  Along the way 'things' are produced, advertising creates a desire for those things, which we then consume.  Along the way, some people reap profits.  But, also along the way, a lot of waste is produced. . . The Big Economy hopes that the Great Economy will somehow assimilate all waste, a hope we now know is futile; the waste generated each year in the United States would fill a convoy of 10-ton garbage trucks 145,000 miles long--over halfway to the moon. . . All inputs (including capital and labor, which are also ultimately dependent on a healthy world) come from the Great Economy, and all wastes return to it.  Yet the Big Economy refers to its effects on the natural world as 'externalities;' that is, these effects are not taken into account within our monetary economy.  Examples of externalities include water pollution, soil erosion, ozone depletion and toxic waste. . . These externalities profoundly affect people and places--in our own backyards and around the world. . . Although economic status plays an important role in the location of toxic waste sites, race is the leading factor."

p. 78 "Worldwide, 40,000 children die of hunger-related disease or malnutrition every day.  If we Americans ate 10 percent less meat (it takes 12 pounds of grain to produce one pound of red meat), enough grain would be saved to more than feed those children (Robbins and Patton, May All Be Fed, chapter 2)."

p. 83 "Adam Smith did not write as a Calvinist theologian, but his view of the human being is not far removed from that of many Scottish Calvinist of his day.  They, too, were suspicious of expecting too much from human sympathy or love.  They recognized with Smith that most people's actions were basically selfish."

p. 88 " We have learned not to impose simple ideals naively on complex situations but to analyze them thoroughly and then find ways to move toward Christian goals within them. . . In our opposition to individualism and to nationalism, we affirm that we as individuals need one another and that nations, too, need one another, as we all need God."

p. 91 "American children under the age of 13 have more spending money--$230 a year--than the 300 million poorest people in the world."

p. 91 "The richest billion people in the world have created a form of civilization so acquisitive and profligate that the planet is in danger.  The lifestyle of this top echelon--the car drivers, beef eaters, soda drinkers, and throwaway consumers--constitutes an ecological threat unmatched in severity by anything but perhaps population growth. . .  Ironically, abundance has not even made people terribly happy.  In the United States, repeated opinion polls of people's sense of well-being show that no more Americans are satisfied with their lot now than they were in 1957.  Despite phenomenal growth in consumption, the list of wants has grown faster still.  Of course, the other extreme from overconsumption--poverty--is not solution to environmental or human problems:  it is infinitely worse for people and equally bad for the environment.  Dispossessed peasants slash-and-burn their way into the rain forests of Latin America, and hungry nomads turn their herds out onto fragile African rangeland, reducing it to desert.  If environmental decline results when people have either too little or too much, we must ask ourselves:  How much is enough?"

p. 97  "The basic value of a sustainable society, the ecological equivalent of the Golden Rule, is simple:  Each generation should meet its needs without jeopardizing the prospects of future generations."

p. 100 "It was not just the greed of corporate shareholders and the hubris of corporate executives that put the fate of Prince William Sound into one ship; it was also our demand that energy should be cheap and plentiful."

p. 119 "To live eschatologically in this sense is not simply to enjoy hopeful images from time to time.  The hope for the Kingdom freed early Christians from concern for success or security in the present order. . . When God is understood as omnipotent, Christians have an assureance of ultimate success for their causes regardless of the most immediate outcome of the efforts.  But, today, we do not perceive God as forcing divine decisions upon the world."

p. 127 "One of the most often-mentioned ways to provide more work is to reduce the work week and spread jobs around.  This can be done in a way that both employees and employers benefit.  For instance, some companies find that people will accept a lower salary if their hourly wage goes up.  Since productivity tends to rise when people work shorter hours, both the people and the company would benefit:  there would be higher productivity for the company and a higher hourly wage for the people."

p. 133 "The aim of sufficiency is that everyone shall have enough of the things that are needed for a reasonably secure and fulfilling life. . . We are concerned first about basic needs: pure water, food and nutrition, clothing, shelter, health care, literacy and some kind of meaningful work to do. . . Individuals do not have identical requirements and likings in order to be happy.  But what any one person may include in the idea of what is sufficient for himself or herself is necessarily limited by the ideas of others about their sufficiency and the recognition that some minimal sufficiency for everyone takes precedence--whenever a choice is necessary--over anyone's right to enjoy a surplus."

p. 137 "Consumerism itself is the substitute, a most unsatisfactory, through addictive, substitute for that which makes human life meaningful and fulfilling--loving, caring relationships with one another, in which we accept and affirm our dependence on one another, and all the ways in which we may free each other for everything true and good and creative that each of us has in himself or herself to be or to become.  In short, consumerism is a substitute for community.  The abundance to which Jesus pointed was explicitly not the abundance of possessions.  It was the abundance of the restored relationship, the God-relationship.  It was the freedom to enjoy the community--the giving-and-receiving relationship with one another--for which we were created."

p. 146 "The radical critics of capitalism and promoters of Spartan rusticity among the advocates of the simple life would be well advised to acknowledge that material progress and urban life can frequently be compatible with spiritual, moral, or intellectual concerns."

p. 147 "Simplicity in its essence demands neither a vow of poverty nor a life of rural homesteading.  As an ethic of self-conscious material moderation, it can be practiced in cities and suburbs, townhouses and condominiums.  It requires neither a log cabin nor a hairshirt but a deliberate ordering of priorities so as to distinguish between the necessary and superfluous, useful and wasteful, beautiful and vulgar."

p. 148 "One of Gandhi's American friends once confessed to the Indian leader that it was easy and liberating for him to discard most of the superfluous clutter in his life and his household, but he could not part with his large collection of books.  'Then don't give them up,' Gandhi replied.  'As long as you derive inner help and comfort from anything, you should keep it.  If you were to give it up in a mood of self-sacrifice or out of a sense of duty, you would continue to want it back, and that unsatisfied want would make trouble for you.'  This means that simplicity is indeed more a state of mind than a particular standard of living."

p. 155 "Our freedom from sin allows us to serve others.  Before, all our serving was for our benefit, a means to somehow get right with God.  Only because the grace of God has been showered upon us are we enabled to give that same grace to others."

p. 167 "Consumption patterns of the 'Northern' countries and the 'Western' countries are obscene by global standards, yet there is no apparent end in sight to the guttony. . .Nevertheless, the underlying economic logic of an economy based on unlimited growth remains largely unchallenged in public discourse. . . The reasons for this have as much to do with arguments about social justice as they do with shameless consumerism. After all, growth has become the only means that late capitalism has devised to cope with the increasingly evident problem of inequity."

p. 182 "We are trapped in a maze of competing attachments.  One moment we make decisions on the basis of sound reason and the next moment out of fear of what others will think of us.  We have no unity or focus around which our lives are oriented.  Because we lack a divine Center our need for security has led us into an insance attachment to things.  We really must understand that the lust for affluence in contemporary society is psychotic.  It is psychotic because it has completely lost touch with reality.  We crave things we neither need nor enjoy.  'We buy things we do not want to impress people we do not like.'  Where planned obsolescence leaves off, psychological obsolescence takes over.  We are made to feel ashamed to wear clothes or drive cars until they are worn out. . . Hoarding we call prudence."

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Simply Sunday #8

Hello!  Hope you are having a stupendous Sunday.

Here are a few things I did this week in my journey towards voluntary simplicity:

(1) Went to the drive-in movies with our family.  We just recently found out there is actually a drive-in movie theater in our metropolitan area, and it is not that far away.  Tuesday is "family night" where the price of admission is a little lower than normal.  But frankly it is a pretty good deal all week for families.  Parents pay about what they'd pay at a regular theater, but kids are just a dollar each and you are welcome to bring your own food, which everyone does.  And we even got a double feature of kid films!  We brought our camping chairs and a picnic.  What a fun evening!  The weather is perfect right now in our neck of the woods.  Watching movies under the stars with my lovies while munching on treats.  Who could ask for more?!

(2) Cleaned out a dresser.  We have an antique-ish dresser in our hallway that we inherited from my husband's grandma.  (I say "antique-ish" because it is old, but not valuable in a monetary sense.  To me, the term "antique" sounds like something in a museum that needs to be insured.  Grandma's dresser ain't that!)  Unfortunately, this inherited dresser had become a junk drawer where my dear husband has hid things he didn't know where else to put.  I am happy to announce that I've cleaned out all the drawers in that dresser.  I've put two drawers to good use, and am now contemplating the best use of the others.  Yeah, organization and de-cluttering!

(3) Removed all purses from my husband's closet.  In our bedroom, there are two closets.  Because women have societally imposed expectations with regard to how they dress and I was working in a professional environment, I had a lot more clothes than I would have ordinarily wanted to own.  As a result of all this, for the past few years, I unfortunately occupied BOTH of the closets in our bedroom, and my husband used a small closet in the guest room.  Since leaving my paid gig, however, I've given a lot of my professional clothes away.  And I have more to sort through as I get time.  So, even though this paring down of my wardrobe is still a work in progress, for a couple weeks now my husband has been able to share one of the closets in our bedroom with me.  Rome was not built in a day--and unless you are Nero, it is not deconstructed in a day either!  I keep plugging away and this week I was able to give away more clothes and reorganize my main closet to take my purses out of the closet I share with my husband.  They are now on a shelf in my main closet.  He now gets 100% of the shelving space in our shared closet.  Progress! 

Don't tell my husband, but my eventual goal is that I will be down to one closet and he can have one closet fully to himself.  To be honest, voluntary simplicity is only part of the motivation.  He is rather a disorganized mess, so sharing a closet is stressful!

Multiple closets, antique-ish dresser, lots of clothes, the plural of "purse."  This may not sound like true voluntary simplicity.  But remember there is the ideal and then there is reality.  I'm not Mahatma Gandhi weaving my own cloth.  I'm a suburban mom in the 21st century in the U.S.  So, I share this kind of mundane stuff as an encouragement to you.  Voluntary simplicity is a journey.  It is not an all or nothing proposition.  You don't have to move to the country, raise all your own food and live off the grid.  Just start where you are now.  Everything counts.  All progress should be celebrated.

Monday, October 7, 2013

Simpler Living, Compassionate Life: A Christian Perspective edited & compiled by Michael Schut (Part II: Evy McDonald's Essay)

I was plugging along reading Simpler Living, Compassionate Life as a daily devotional.  The essays and excerpts were so varied, it was really hit or miss for me.  But the essay that first (and most) gave me an "a-ha" moment was Evy McDonald's.  It was entitled "Spending Money as if Life Really Matters."  I really encourage you to take a read.

The introductory bio on Ms. McDonald described her as a former nurse who had gone on to found the New Road Map Foundation, which focuses on educating and enabling people to "shift to low-consumption, high-fulfillment lifestyles."  In that mission, they rely primarily on Joe Dominguez and Vicki Robin's book Your Money or Your Life.  I had never heard of that book until reading Ms. McDonald's essay, but afterwards I couldn't wait to read it and it eventually had a real impact on my thinking.  But in the meantime, Ms. McDonald's essay was a great introduction to the concepts in that book and really wetted my appetite.

A number of points in Ms. McDonald's essay really caught my attention.

First, she observed, "Though history shows that there was a constant tension between material acquisition and spiritual transcendence, most households until the twentieth century were not consumers but producers and manufacturers.  People grew their own food, built their own homes, barns and furniture, poured their own candles and sewed their own clothes."  This passage really opened my eyes.  At the time, I was so in the trenches in my career, I had become rather myopic.  It may sound silly but it never occurred to me that the lifestyle I was living (and that most folks in my social circles were living) was a fairly modern invention.  On some level, I guess I had assumed that through the centuries, people had always been consumers.  It was just that we had consumed less and what we had consumed was different in the olden days.  Even though I had read books like Little House on the Prairie as a kid, I guess I had lost sight that that lifestyle was not unique to families whose patriarch yanked them out of civilization to homestead on the frontier.  And it began to dawn on me that if the consumption lifestyle has not always been, maybe it will not always be.  Just maybe there might be another way to live our precious time on this planet--even if we live in large metropolitan areas and have jobs.

Second, Ms. McDonald described that prior to the Great Depression, "social innovators were planning self-sufficient communities that would give people a sense of belonging and integrate urban and rural towns."  She cites David Shi's book The Simple Life in this description.  However, she explains that with the advent of the economic collapse of the Great Depression, these plans fell apart.  Then once the economy recovered, "[l]eading economists felt that perpetual economic growth was possible."  From there, a "theology of consumption began to invade our culture--and our churches.  Slowly, almost imperceptively, we wandered away from the foundational teachings of Jesus--sharing our wealth, identifying with the marginalized, living a life of grateful stewardship--and began to identify our worth with how much money we made or how many possessions we owned." 

Wow!  I really want to read Mr. Shi's book.  Those pre-Depression communities of self-sufficiency sounded exciting.  I've never heard of those.  With our hussle bussle modern lives, most of us have really lost a sense of community.  We don't even know our neighbors in more than a superficial way most of the time.

But I had definitely heard of and been impacted by the belief in "perpetual economic growth" and "theology of consumption."  At the time, my husband and I worked for publicly traded companies fairly obsessed with their stock price.  Everyone was always wanting to show more revenues, more expansion, more everything.  Staying the same was not acceptable.  Shrinking was catastrophe. 

And that thinking about the corporate bottom line infects our thinking in so many other ways.  Schools need to increase their number of graduates and the passage by their students of key tests.  Nonprofits need to show they are helping more people and increasing grants.  We are often judged professionally not by how well we do but by how much improvement we can prove.  But in the back of my mind, when I had a moment to breath, I would sometimes wonder whether it was always possible to grow in tangible ways.  At some point, isn't growth more difficult to achieve?  Is such growth even valuable if you've gotten so big and it takes so much effort to grow a little more?

And the theology of consumption is not just a secular idea.  When I was young, I didn't like going to church.  There were a lot of reasons, but one was that church seemed to often be a chance for people to show off their fancy clothes.  I never had a lot of clothes, fancy or otherwise.  This was a distraction for me, and I never understood how showing off one's clothes squared with Jesus's teaching.  I couldn't reconcile the two, and sadly it drove me away from church for many years.

It continues today to some extent.  My husband and I have felt judged even by clergy for not dressing more elegantly.  We don't wear ripped jeans and flip flops, but we also don't wear suits.  One Christmas, a deacon approached our family and to our horror asked if one (but not both) of our children would like to help the pastor at one point in the service because the child she was inviting "was dressed."  What she meant was that our invited child had taken it upon herself to wear her fanciest dress, while our other child was wearing a more modest outfit of slacks and a solid cotton shirt.  Apparently, the uninvited child wasn't fancy enough to be seen at the front of the church.  We were so disappointed in this mentality!

And it is not just clothes.  We are a culture that still judges each other based on other possessions--what kind of car, which electronics, what kind of house, what kind of furniture.  But Ms. McDonald notes how contrary that is to Jesus's teachings.  How convicting!

Later, she had a line that caught my attention.  She notes that "our affluence and consumption [have not] given us more fulfilling, happier and just ways of living" and instead "[t]oday, people admit to feeling stressed and tired with little time to care for and nuture relationships, family, friends or the environment."  She notes that researchers have indicated this trend increased from the 1970s to now. It left us "[s]atiated at the physical level, yet starved at the spiritual level."  These words really hit home.  Why was I working so hard?  It was true that I had more financial cushion than I'd ever had in my life.  But money was not the big motivator to me.  My husband and I didn't particularly like buying things.  We did enjoy traveling.  And our corporate jobs were giving us the money to go places.  But they also gave us so few vacation days that we frankly had little time to go anywhere.

Quoting Marcus Borg in Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, she states: "Our culture's secular wisdom does not affirm the reality of the spirit. . . It looks to the material world for satisfaction and meaning.  Its dominant values are what I call the three A's--Achievement, Affluence and Appearance.Mr. Borg's book is a great one, but even if you aren't a person of faith, it is easy to see the emptiness and futility of a life built on those three A's.  Those values are really pointless.  They aren't sustainable or lasting.

The part of the essay that particularly got my attention was when Ms. McDonald described how her "[w]ork was the center of her life" until a particular day that changed her life.  She received a devastating medical report and was advised she would probably die within a year.  Because of her health condition, she was rapidly replaced at work because her manager did not think she would still be able to keep up with such a demanding job.  She wrote, "I had lost the job that gave me my identity, my purpose in life and my sense of self-worth, and I had been told that I was going to die."  To add insult to injury, she then found out her home had been burglarized and most of her worldly possessions were gone.  Out of the blue, in rapid succession, everything was taken away--her future, her career and her things. 

She described that God was the only place to turn, but she painfully realized that she had not been living the life she had professed:  "God only existed for me at times of crisis or convenience."  She asked herself whom she wanted to be when she died and the answer came to her: "I wanted to be a person who lived her values, understood what service was about and could love herself enough to accept God's love and love her neighbor."  She went on to explain that to make that happen, "[m]y self-centered and unhealthy relationship with money was a logical place to start learning how to live my values."  This led her to accept a friend's invitation to attend a seminar by Joe Dominguez. 

She summarized that she had two main takeaways from the seminar.  The first was "identifying how much is enough" and the second was "understanding the true definition of money."  Ms. McDonald went on to elaborate that per Joe Dominguez "enough" is "having our survival needs met (food, clothing, shelter), having possessions that bring joy and comfort and even having those few special luxuries that add to the quality of our life."  She explains that her definition of money had previously been "power, prestige, status and a way to identify where I stood in relation to other people of my profession," but Mr. Dominguez defined it in a completely different way: "Money is something for which you trade your life energy--your time."  To make this definition more comprehensible, Ms. McDonald elaborated:

Every purchase could be seen in terms of the number of hours I would need to work to pay for it.  The real cost of a $100 blouse, therefore, would be the 20 hours on the job needed to make the money to buy it.  Would I receive satisfaction from the blouse equal to 20 hours of my life?  I began to apply that question to all my purchases.


That one paragraph was a revelation (and a revolution!) to me.  I did some computations to figure out my hourly "wage" though I was a salaried employee.  I then used that number to think about how many hours of my life I had given up for various purchases I had made.  That gave me a whole new way to look at how I was spending my life and whether various purchases were a good use of my life energy.  We only have a finite amount of time in this life.  None of us knows how much.  We cannot squander our lives or put off living until retirement.

Ms. McDonald's experience rang true to me on so many levels.  I too was working crazy hours.  And around the time I read her essay, I had had some health scares of my own.  Things had turned out well, but there were some nervous times after initial doctors' reports that made me wonder if I was not long for this world.  That kind of experience is scary and stressful, but it is also valuable in helping you put things in perspective!

I loved how Ms. McDonald ended her essay:

Gradually my actions became more aligned with my values.  I discovered the truth of graceful simplicity: having a few pairs of shoes, not 70; a few blouses, not a hundred; books that are read instead of lining the shelves.  Through this process I reclaimed the most precious gift God gave me--the hours of my life--and I could begin to discover how God wanted those hours used.  In defining how much was enough for me I found time for serving, reading, watching sunsets, singing, going for a walk with friends, enjoying a concert and listing in silent prayer.  In short, a life of immeasurable wealth.


I still consume.  We all consume.  The critical step is to move from being conspicuous consumers to being conscious consumers.


Discovering what was enough for me allowed me to make that shift.  Our task now is to return to a life based on feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, raising healthy loving children, and stewarding and preserving creation.  Perhaps then each act of consumption will become a hymn of thanksgiving.


Aren't those beautiful words?  I hope they will be a joy and a blessing to you.