"We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry." E.B. White
There's an interesting piece in the New York Times that was published on Saturday - "But Will it Make You Happy?". The article uses a couple that has rid themselves of all but 100 possessions as an example of Americans who are opting out of the culture of conspicuous consumerism in favor of a more experience-driven and fulfilling life.
The extremism of that couple aside, the article then goes on to discuss general trends that even giant corporations like Wal-Mart can't help but notice - people are coming to discover that having more things doesn't equate with more happiness. The desire for "simpler times" could be a result of the enormity of crises that the US is currently facing; or, Americans could really have started changing spending patterns to reflect dissatisfaction with how cluttered our lives have become.
Full disclosure? I have long been known by friends and family as a "pack-rat". I've peripherally heard of the show "Hoarders" but fear looking into it lest I see an image of me projected in a particularly unhealthy light.
I keep various found items for "art projects" in tupperware containers and bowls and wherever there's an empty shelf. My work space is usually designated by around fifty or so pieces of scraps with notes or sayings or poems, tacked up in a scattered, chaotic mess that makes me feel calm. Anything from a note from Caitlin - "Amy! I love you! so so much. - Caitlin" written while I was frantically never around and stressed out about senior year of college, to pictures of my grandfather, notes from my roommate in college, Judy Grahn poems, Adrienne Rich quotes, a pinwheel of common organic solutions to garden pests. Numerous postcards of gnomes and picasso and chinese fortunes - "the human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it."
Could I live without these things? Yes - but being surrounded by beauty and ideas that inspire me to create beautiful things is priceless.
In addition to all of these memories, however - I have movies and CDs and books - boy oh boy do Cait and I have books! Kitchen appliances and furniture and sports equipment and musical instruments and camping gear and shoes! Tshirts and sweaters and tshirts that hold sentimental value but neither of us would ever want to wear ever again. There's that question in the simplicity movement: when do you go from owning your things, to your things owning you? At one point I remember thinking that I didn't want to go on this monumental journey because I didn't want to have to deal with storing and going through all of these possessions.
But we will. Go through everything. Decide what's worth storing and beg friends and families for a corner of their basement or attic or spare room. As for the rest of the stuff - anyone want a broken sewing machine and a bunch of random fabric?
Monday, August 9, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Cause it's a bittersweet, symphony this life.
"You're a slave to the money, then you die."
No my friends, that is not a fate for me. Today, officially, marks the end of both my job at the hip urban grocery store, and as a supervisor with the 2010 census. This day, Friday, August 6th, 2010, marks the first time since I was 15 that I was not working at least one (up to 5 at one point) wage-slave job. Taking up all of my time and barely paying me enough to get by.
It is most definitely not real, not at all. It's exactly like the feeling you have when you're on break after a semester at college - you wake up startled from a dead sleep, dreading the paper you have to turn in but you never started researching. I keep thinking, even right now, that there's something I'm supposed to be doing, something I have to turn in or something I didn't check. And I almost care.... almost.
So much to do, so little time! The farms we want to visit in Virginia have offically been contacted, and we've seen replies from a few. We're narrowing that last down and deciding our official dates to request WWOOFing space. We're making checklists of equipment we need, supplies we want to have, and things that are worthy enough of keeping in storage. This is by no means as easy to do as it is to type. But oh how great that would be!
No my friends, that is not a fate for me. Today, officially, marks the end of both my job at the hip urban grocery store, and as a supervisor with the 2010 census. This day, Friday, August 6th, 2010, marks the first time since I was 15 that I was not working at least one (up to 5 at one point) wage-slave job. Taking up all of my time and barely paying me enough to get by.
It is most definitely not real, not at all. It's exactly like the feeling you have when you're on break after a semester at college - you wake up startled from a dead sleep, dreading the paper you have to turn in but you never started researching. I keep thinking, even right now, that there's something I'm supposed to be doing, something I have to turn in or something I didn't check. And I almost care.... almost.
So much to do, so little time! The farms we want to visit in Virginia have offically been contacted, and we've seen replies from a few. We're narrowing that last down and deciding our official dates to request WWOOFing space. We're making checklists of equipment we need, supplies we want to have, and things that are worthy enough of keeping in storage. This is by no means as easy to do as it is to type. But oh how great that would be!
Monday, August 2, 2010
My hands, they shake; My head, it spins
"Load the car and write the note. Grab your bag and grab your coat. Tell the ones who need to know - we are headed north."
This weekend Caitlin and I went to the Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island. It was incredible - the music, the people, the ocean. Seeing Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore (with Yim Yames and eventually the Preservation Hall Jazz Band) was probably the highlight for me. The Avett Brothers, Andrew Bird, Brandi Carlile, The Low Anthem, Horse Feathers - all had great sets. Just as with farming - there's something really great happening right now with music. People rediscovering their voices and traditional instruments as methods to create these beautiful, thought provoking pieces of art.
Not only that, but the folk scene in general... it's really interesting to see the dynamic between the older generations - the ones that were most definitely at the first Newport - and the younger kids that are brought out by the acts that I previously mentioned - in particular the Avett Brothers. On Saturday, during numerous sets people would try to come up closer to the stage and stand/dance to the artists currently playing. A lot of the audience became infuriated and eventually got the staff to make all of the standers/dancers sit down.
I don't know where I'm going with this - but it was incredible to see the dancers eventually win out.. against the people who would have never, ever listened to anyone tell them to sit down and stop them from expressing themselves to the music when in their youthful hayday. In fact, I can never quite understand how people listening to music can sit without the rhythm infecting them. Its always been a bit perplexing, the "I can't dance" crowd. I may not be able to "dance" in the way our current society views dancing.. but I'll certainly shake whatever I have when the spirits move me to shake it!
I think the best part of the weekend, however, was our vagabond sleeping arrangements. Or, rather, lack of sleeping arrangements. We had purchased the tickets to the festival back in April, but hadn't really thought out where we were staying. After driving to a couple of hotels on the island on Saturday night, Cait finally asked if they had a policy about people sleeeping in their parking lot. After the guy at the desk basically said there wasn't a policy, nor was there a guard, we found a quiet, semi-dark corner and laid the seats down in the Honda Fit.
While somewhat nervous about people breaking into the car while we were sleeping, and both waking at various times to phantom knockings on the windows - it was a great nights sleep. I woke to the sun just barely rising around 5:45. After the strenuous task of waking Caitlin up, I hopped into the drivers seat and drove until I found the nearest beach. Just us and an older gentleman who described the cold ocean as "better than any cup of coffee" as he wrapped himself in a towel and walked to his car were on the beach at that time. To say it was beautiful would be an understatatement, of course. More importantly, it felt beautiful. While both of us still have our jobs to tend to... it felt, for a moment, as if our journey had already begun. We were free to get our feet wet, hell, to plunge right into the water and stay there for eternity.
Yes, it is extremely difficult to leave Philly right now - such great friendships, community and ideas are being built every day here - but this weekend only gave me a taste of what this next year could feel like. And I want more.
This weekend Caitlin and I went to the Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island. It was incredible - the music, the people, the ocean. Seeing Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore (with Yim Yames and eventually the Preservation Hall Jazz Band) was probably the highlight for me. The Avett Brothers, Andrew Bird, Brandi Carlile, The Low Anthem, Horse Feathers - all had great sets. Just as with farming - there's something really great happening right now with music. People rediscovering their voices and traditional instruments as methods to create these beautiful, thought provoking pieces of art.
Not only that, but the folk scene in general... it's really interesting to see the dynamic between the older generations - the ones that were most definitely at the first Newport - and the younger kids that are brought out by the acts that I previously mentioned - in particular the Avett Brothers. On Saturday, during numerous sets people would try to come up closer to the stage and stand/dance to the artists currently playing. A lot of the audience became infuriated and eventually got the staff to make all of the standers/dancers sit down.
I don't know where I'm going with this - but it was incredible to see the dancers eventually win out.. against the people who would have never, ever listened to anyone tell them to sit down and stop them from expressing themselves to the music when in their youthful hayday. In fact, I can never quite understand how people listening to music can sit without the rhythm infecting them. Its always been a bit perplexing, the "I can't dance" crowd. I may not be able to "dance" in the way our current society views dancing.. but I'll certainly shake whatever I have when the spirits move me to shake it!
I think the best part of the weekend, however, was our vagabond sleeping arrangements. Or, rather, lack of sleeping arrangements. We had purchased the tickets to the festival back in April, but hadn't really thought out where we were staying. After driving to a couple of hotels on the island on Saturday night, Cait finally asked if they had a policy about people sleeeping in their parking lot. After the guy at the desk basically said there wasn't a policy, nor was there a guard, we found a quiet, semi-dark corner and laid the seats down in the Honda Fit.
While somewhat nervous about people breaking into the car while we were sleeping, and both waking at various times to phantom knockings on the windows - it was a great nights sleep. I woke to the sun just barely rising around 5:45. After the strenuous task of waking Caitlin up, I hopped into the drivers seat and drove until I found the nearest beach. Just us and an older gentleman who described the cold ocean as "better than any cup of coffee" as he wrapped himself in a towel and walked to his car were on the beach at that time. To say it was beautiful would be an understatatement, of course. More importantly, it felt beautiful. While both of us still have our jobs to tend to... it felt, for a moment, as if our journey had already begun. We were free to get our feet wet, hell, to plunge right into the water and stay there for eternity.
Yes, it is extremely difficult to leave Philly right now - such great friendships, community and ideas are being built every day here - but this weekend only gave me a taste of what this next year could feel like. And I want more.
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