DEFINE "SIMPLE"

Voluntary simplicity.  I'm all for it.  There has been a slow erosion of our collective ability to see through the marketing blizzard that keeps us hopping to corporate-sponsored self-interest in our spending and consuming habits.  We THINK we need more, bigger, better.  The end result is an economy in shambles and an environment on the edge of disaster.

Yet, there is a tendency in some circles to romanticize the "good old days" when times were simpler, people were more important than things, and consumerism wasn't a national past-time.   I think a bunch of those words need definition and context: "good"?  "simple"?  "things"?

I am one generation removed from the family farm.  Both of my parents (and their parents, and their parents....) grew up on family farms in the rural midwest in the 1920's and 1930's.  Twenty acres of corn and beans, a large kitchen garden, some dairy cows, chickens, hogs, and horses to pull the plows.  They ate what they grew, slaughtered hogs for sausage and ham, gathered eggs and wrung the necks of chickens that ended up on the kitchen table.  Milk came directly from Bessie out in the barn.

Both of my parents fled this life the minute they could in the 1940's, escaping to the city to find factory work, buy a modest home on an old tree-lined street, and plant flower beds skirting the lawn.

We never went camping when I was a kid in the 50's/60's because my dad's too vivid memories of waking up with ice water in the glass by his bed after the fires went out during the night, of hauling water, tending animals and doing hard, physical outdoor work on the farm every day left him with no desire to re-live this existence for recreational purposes.  He worked hard and was proud that HIS family had a roof over our heads in a home that was warm and comfortable.

They also had no desire to plant a garden.  They had both worked long, hard hours growing the food their families would eat on the farm.  And in seasons when the garden was meager, hunger was a reality.  They not only didn't eat well in that case, they also had little to barter in town for grain, sugar, and flour, further decimating the pantry.  New clothes, toys, Christmas gifts?  Not so much.

Most nights they went to bed at early dusk, bone tired and beaten down, only to get up and do it again every single day of the year.

I guess you could say their life was "simple" and "things" didn't matter, but I'm not so sure those old days were "good" either.

So I get impatient about romanticizing about the "good old days" when discussions of voluntary simplicity and non-consumerism crop up.   Yes, we need to examine our wasteful ways, but returning to a by-gone time isn't my goal.

I want to look squarely at my own weakness for Madison Avenue's influences and become much more discerning about what I need versus what I want.  And that becomes a tricky thing indeed.  I really, really want an I-Phone.  Do I NEED it?  Hmmmm.....  How about that big truck and camper we bought last year?  Need?  Want?  Or our annual trip to Kauai?  Need?  Want?  It seems easy to decide in theory, but there are a million ways in which my life is enhanced by satisfying some wants in ways that are important...experiences and memories are what make a life full and rich.  I want that.  Need, however, is pretty basic stuff:  enough food to keep me from starving, adequate clothing appropriate to the season, shelter from nature's whims.  Finding the balance between need and want is where my energies lie.

Here's what I will do.  I will voluntarily do my best to ponder each spending/consuming decision I make to ensure I am awake and aware of my motives.  I think by doing this I can simplify my life and the choices I make, with an eye toward economic equality and environmental health.  I have some "cleaning out" to do; some "downsizing" some day; that all feels good.

But for now, I also know I want to honor what my parents endured by realizing that our abundance of CHOICE was hard won by the hard work and sacrifice of people who came before us.  They weren't perfect; maybe their own trials made them easy fodder for Madison Avenue too.  But I know that if my garden fails, Costco is right down the street.  They made sure I wouldn't starve; now I need to make sure others, and our planet, do not suffer from the result of my wants outstripping their needs.

At least, that's the view from here....©