What is voluntary simplicity? Unfortunately for those of you who rushed to church this morning with that question burning on your mind (and I hope that there are at least one or two of you out there), I must be frank and tell you, - I don't have an answer for you. At least I don't have one answer for you. I struggled with this question for quite some time in preparing this talk because "voluntary simplicity" is many different things to many different people. To some it is a life philosophy; to others it can come close to being a sort of religious practice. Still to others it takes on the form of an activist movement working to bring about broad-scale change throughout society in ways that will help protect our fragile environment. And to some, voluntary simplicity can be seen as an abstract, feel-good concept that, while drawn from good intentions, does not really play a part in one's every day life.
My goal here today is not to give you answers, but rather to provide you with food for thought and to hopefully generate questions in your own mind which might help you in that ever- present struggle to gain perspective on life. To start, I will try to give you a broad overview of the voluntary simplicity movement, and how it has impacted my life. From there, I will try to tie things together with a few words on why I, in my humble opinion, think that voluntary simplicity is an important topic for UUs to consider.
So, to get back to my original question, "What is voluntary simplicity? This idea has a long history and can be attributed to many sources. In his book called Voluntary Simplicity, Duane Elgin defines this phenomenon as "living a life that is outwardly simple and inwardly rich." Others have described simple living as "living consciously or deliberately." An icon of the simplicity movement is Henry David Thoreau, who in his classic book, Walden, describes his experiment in living simply. He says:
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life and see if I could not learn from what it had to teach. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
For Thoreau, his search for simplicity in life took him to the shores of Walden Pond in Concord, MA, where, in 1845, he built a small one-room cabin and lived for 2 years earning a living (in his words) "on the labor of my hands only." He grew his own food and fished and used the time for nature studies, contemplation, and reading and writing. In Thoreau's view, his experiment in finding out how little he needed to survive was a success, and to many, this period of his life is seen as the time of his greatest literary productivity. However, for many, if not most of us, picking up and moving to an isolated part of the world does not present itself as a viable or desirable - option. Even so, his efforts to think critically, choosing his own way of life, can serve as a shining example of how simple choices can have a drastic impact on our lives and the way we approach living.
We live today in a complex society, a society which urges us to be productive individuals, to live active lives and to consume. The adage "more is better" has become the mantra of American life -- to own two or more cars, a large house, trendy clothes and stylish furniture is to be successful. To obtain this success, one must be able to pay for it, which requires a job which can bring in the big bucks -- also a sign of success. Voluntary simplicity activists argue that this idea of success is not all its cracked up to be. Rather, they subscribe to the cynical, yet wise, words of Lily Tomlin who says that, "The trouble with being in the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat."
Another critique of the standard view of success is given by Ellen Goodman, a nationally syndicated columnist. She remarks: "'Normal' is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work, driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for in order to get to the job that you need so you can pay for the clothes, car and house that you leave empty all day in order to afford to live in it."
Sadly, I think Ellen's satire rings true for all too many of us. In my case, my husband Ted and I leave our house every day for work, but we don't leave it empty. We leave behind two individuals who can enjoy the comforts of home all day. That would be our two dogs, Chesapeake and Roxie, who lounge on the couch, snooze, and occasionally get a visit from our neighbor down the road. And every day, they always greet Ted and I at the door when we get home and they are fresh, well-rested and in a great mood from having had such a relaxing day. (Am I crazy, or do they have the right idea?) Anyway, in our ever-eager efforts to obtain or maintain some level of success, we oftentimes suffer.
Have you ever looked at the long list of unread emails on your computer, or that incessant red light blinking on your phone telling you have voice mail messages waiting to be tended to? Do you ever listen to the daily requests made of you by you co-workers, boss, friends, family, kids and dare-I-say church members and feel overwhelmed? Out of control? Strained, hurried or breathless? I have and I do -- often. If you ever had the opportunity to watch the television show "I Love Lucy," there is one episode which describes this syndrome quite well. It's a classic. Lucy and her friend Ethel take a job wrapping candy at the local chocolate making factory. They stand in front of a conveyor belt as the beautiful chocolate candies come toward them. The candies are lined up perfectly in a row just waiting to be wrapped. At first, Lucy and Ethel do quite well and are able to handle their responsibilities quickly and efficiently. However, the time comes when they are expected to do more and to do it more quickly. The conveyor belt speeds up, and the chocolates come hurtling down the conveyor belt towards Ethel and Lucy who give it their best shot, but are quickly overwhelmed. In a fruitless, but hilarious, last-ditch effort, Lucy resorts to taking those chocolates she can't wrap and throwing them onto the floor, over her shoulder, stuffing them into her pockets, and, ultimately, into her mouth -- much to the consternation of her boss.
Similar to Lucy's experience, I have certainly had days where I've come home from work feeling as though my pockets are full of uncompleted tasks and that my face is figuratively covered with bittersweet chocolate as a testimony to the fact that I just couldn't keep up with that conveyor belt called life.
Voluntary Simplicity is an effort to slow down the conveyor belt and reduce the amount of stuff that comes towards you on a daily basis. It is an effort to reduce your overall consumption and spending, limiting it to those things that hold true value in your life. To eliminate the things and obligations which clutter your day so that you can focus more on doing things that enhance and bring meaning to your life. It is choosing not to heed the call of American consumerist culture when deciding whether or not to buy that over-priced shirt you really don't need or whether or not to go for the biggie fries when you only need a small, or to take the higher paying job you really don't want, or to buy the car you really can't afford. Voluntary Simplicity encourages you to critically examine what these objects can actually do for you.
So if you feel there are some aspects of your life that could stand a good Spring cleaning, you too may be a candidate for the simple living bandwagon. If so, the next question that comes to mind is as difficult to answer as the first one: And that is, "How do I get a simple life? How do I achieve simple living?" G.K. Chesterton sums it up most succinctly by saying, "There are two ways to get enough: One is to continue to accumulate more and more; the other is to desire less." Voluntary simplicity takes a slightly different spin on this idea. It emphasizes living with less in order to get more out of life.
There are many paths to simple living and the path one chooses depends on what you foresee to be your ultimate goal. As ambiguous as that sounds, there is hope for some clarification. In the book, The Circle of Simplicity, author Cecile Andrews outlines a strategy for getting back to the basics in life -- and I will refer to this book throughout my talk and outline 4 of the steps Cecile discusses.
Step 1 is to define simplicity for yourself. You do this by asking yourself thought-provoking questions, such as "How do I envision 'the good life'?" Would you have more time? If so for what? Reflection, spending time with your friends or family? Exploring other hobbies? Would "the good life" entail having more freedom to choose how you spend you time from day to day? More flexibility? Would "the good life" entail feeling like the way you live makes a difference? Or having a job that has special meaning for you? Would it mean leading a more healthy lifestyle? A lifestyle more in tune with the environment? More active ? All of these questions aim at helping you find your way towards a path that will enable you to pursue and achieve a life of fulfillment. Depending upon where you are in your life journey, certain things will strike you as being of higher priority. For instance 5-6 years ago, I was living the life of a grad student in the fast-paced city of Washington, DC. The "good life" for me entailed:
In pursuing the good life, I worked for a small-non-profit organization with even smaller pay, but was able to support myself. In addition, I was able to travel to exotic places such as Paris, Majorca, Germany, Egypt, and even Tucson.
Today, my version of the "good life" is somewhat different. I'm married now and while having a job and the ability to travel is important, I think my priorities have shifted towards building a good home with Ted, being active in the local community and getting to know my neighbors. That 20-something young woman who saw her career as the primary path towards ensuring her independence and success in life is now actually considering the possibility of (eventually -- not any time soon) cutting back on my work hours in the event we someday, eventually, not any time soon start a family. So, just as your focus in life changes, so too must your definition of what the "good life" would entail for you.
Once you come to terms with your own working definition of simplicity, you can move on down to taking the second step towards simple living and clear away what Cecile Andrews calls "the brambles" in your life. What constitutes a bramble? Anything that detracts from or impedes your ability to move down a path towards the good life as you have defined it. What are some of the things that you spend your time doing that don't necessarily bring added meaning or value to your life? For instance, if you constantly feel that there simply is not enough time in the day to do everything you need and would like to do, your first step in simplifying your life might be to take a critical look at how you spend your time. Ever heard the expression, "Time flies"? Well this process requires you to find out where it is actually flying off to. For me, one time taker is the television. Turning on the television for me is like turning on a high-powered magnet when I'm standing there in a suit of armor. I get sucked right into it and can't get away from it until I (or Ted) turn it off. It doesn't even matter if I don't like the show I'm watching. Even when I go to a restaurant for a fun evening with friends or family, if there is a television mounted on the wall and I'm near it, my eyes are constantly darting to the TV screen to see what's going on. Upon reflection, I found that this experience is not something that enhances my life. I'm not able to give my full attention to the people I'm with or to fully listen to what they are saying.
Another bramble in my life is clutter. A packrat by nature, it's amazing how many nick-knacks, mementos, and other useless objects I can hang onto for years and years. In assessing clutter as a bramble in my life, I came to realize that with few exceptions, most of what I held onto did not hold any real sentimental value. Instead of giving me something they primarily only took things away from me - space in my household, elbow grease when I head to clean the house, attention and concern if I worried that my husband my secretly throw some of the junk away, or if a visitor my break something.
Once you identify these problem areas, you can then take steps to get rid of them. Going back to my TV example, there are I number of ways I can demagnetize myself. While hardliners might simply say, "Shoot your television," I try to take a more moderate, non-violent course. I try hard to only turn on the television if there is something I know I want to see on TV. In addition, when in a restaurant, I try to sit in such a way so that my back is to the TV.
With respect to the clutter bramble, I have to say it wasn't easy, but with the almost gleeful help of my husband, Ted, I started parting with my objects. Eventually we found a great remedy when we moved from a 2-BR apartment to a 1-BR apartment in California. Knowing we simply couldn't fit everything into the new apartment, we set to work. It was a purging experience. We got rid of hundreds of books we only read once, CDs, tapes, clothes, business records from eons ago -- and the list goes on. Surprisingly, each trip to Goodwill put a bit of pep in my step. Rather than mourning the loss of precious objects I felt kind of liberated.
Since that time Ted and I have moved into a 3-BR house. So, you may ask with all that extra space has the packrat reared its ugly head again. To be honest, I think it does occasionally, but we have one safeguard in place that helps keep the clutter at bay. And that is that as a general rule, if we buy or bring in something new to the household, we look to take something else out. For instance, for every new pair of shoes I buy, I get rid of an old dilapidated pair. Not only does this help keep the clutter bug at bay, but it also helps reduce the amount of impulse buying that we do. If I'm ever going to make a purchase, I now ask myself what I'd be willing to give up in order to bring in this new object. If I don't want to give anything up, then I don't buy it.
Cecile's third step to simple living is called "Getting Clear." This step deals with reducing consumption and spending as best you can. This is where the social activist side of things come in. Cecile Andrews argues that shopping is actually bad for you and bad for society, because similar to my clutter example, unnecessary consumption takes away more than it gives. It takes away your time and energy. It takes away ingenuity or creativity that comes from having to make do with what you've got. To be honest, I've never been a big fan of shopping. I get tired and cranky. But there are many folks who say they love to shop. Some have told me that they get a rush of good feelings when they buy something. For those who actually enjoy shopping or see the use of shopping, I'd first like to say that I don't mean to suggest that you need to deny yourself of anything you need -- this is not about self-depravation or poverty, but I would urge you to try and pay close attention to the impact it has on you. If you get a rush, how long does it last? Does it compare to the costs? Be aware of the natural resources that go into produce the product your purchasing? In addition, think about the money that you're using to purchase the object and what else it could be doing for you.
If you're still on the fence with respect to shopping, let me throw some disturbing statistics at you and see if that helps. The average time an American spends shopping in this country is 6 hours/week. In comparison, parents spend an average of 40 minutes/week playing with their kids, and couples spend an average of 12 minutes/week talking with one another. Is this where our priorities should be? American households average $8500 of non-mortgage debt, and within the last 20 years the per capita rate of consumption has increased 45%. What has changed since 1982 that would indicate that we need to consume 45% more today than we did then? Most disturbing for me is that the average life savings for a 50 year old in this country is $2,500.
While I'm not suggesting that you live the life of a pauper, I do feel that high levels of consumption and spending do have a negative impact -- as both an individual and a society. Personally it threatens your sense of security -- financially and emotionally, and it detracts from time that can be spent doing more life-enhancing activities. And on a broader level, think of all the natural resources that go into the things we buy. When deciding whether or not to buy something, voluntary simplicity activists urge you to make sure that the pay-off is worth the cost. Now, I'll step off my anti-consumerist soap box, but if this is an issue of interest to you, I encourage you to read the book, Your Money or Your Life, by Vicki Robin and Joe Dominguez.
The final step Cecile describes is "Living Your Passion." This is where you start down your newly discovered road to "the good life." This title is something that has always made me feel uncomfortable. I'm a fairly grounded person -- I like things stable and in control. So the idea of "living my passion" conjures up ideas in my mind of one big roller coaster ride -- similar to that of a movie star -- married one day, divorced the next. In rehab one day, in front of the judge for falling off the wagon the next. While that may be a bit extreme, I do think a word of caution or a reality check is appropriate. The simple life is not the same as living the easy life. It is not easy to go against the grain of society in making a new definition of success for ourselves. For me, something as innocuous as turning off the television can be a real struggle.
Now think about if you find yourself in a position where you feel you need to make a drastic change? In her book, Cecile offered many examples of folks who gave up high paying jobs to pursue little-paying jobs that are more fulfilling - like becoming a free-lance writer, an artist or teacher and had no regrets. But think of your own situation and reflect on some of the own decision you might have to make: To be more eco-friendly, taking the bus to work rather than driving seems like a great alternative. It helps reduce pollution and can give you time to read, rest, and reflect in the morning rather than fighting traffic. But, it can also take you much longer and limit your options in terms of when you can come home. Or say you want to turn in the trendy SUV for a hybrid car or a bike? What would the impact be? As someone who has an Xterra sitting outside waiting to carry us home, I can't be too judgmental. (We claim it's for the dogs, but...). Now those are some big changes, but what if you're faced with the decision to quit or drastically change your job? A very risky endeavor. So while I don't mean to suggest that you shouldn't consider making the change, I do want to emphasize that living consciously should include a warning label that these decisions should not be made lightly.
Nevertheless, as cautious as I am about jumping whole hog into living your passion, I would like to make the case for taking the risky step of discovering what you would love to do with your life -- what you would like to be when you grow up -- and to start doing it. The reason is simple. Like the title of the popular day-time soap opera -- which I no longer watch because it doesn't enhance my life -- we only have "One Life to Live" (unless you believe in re-incarnation but that's another topic for another day). And that is a gift and you should enjoy it to the fullest. Pursuing the simple life can help you identify your core values and it may surprise you by taking you to places you never thought you would go blazing new trails towards your own special good life.
As a UU, I think this philosophical approach aligns itself with our faith quite well. First and foremost because, I don't think I answered one question while I was up here but hopefully raised quite a few questions in your own mind. It coincides with our principles of conducting a free and responsible search for truth and meaning and engendering respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are part.
To close, I'll give you a quote from the new Sheryll Crow song, "I don't have digital, I don't have Cable, I don't have diddly-squat. It's not about getting what you want; it's about wanting what you've got. And I'm gonna go soak up the sun."
Thank you.