Can a Minimalist Survive In A Household of Materialism?

 

A few weeks ago, my spouse purchased a Fitbit to track her workouts and her vitals. Neither of us had owned anything similar prior and had relied on cell phone apps to track exercise. Both of us were enthralled with the device.

The next week, I spent several hours reviewing various fitness watches with the intention of purchasing one for myself. From $400 units, I worked my way down to a few $60 ones, aware that I was sacrificing quality and name recognition in exchange for a reasonable price on a gadget that would address my particular wants.

I point out that these were “wants,” not “needs.” The features that each of the final three watches had were the same features that I already had on my cell phone app, with the exception of heart rate and sleep patterns. However, the watch would always be with me, tracking my movements. And, it was somewhat stylish – a marker that I had some prestige and that I was concerned abut my fitness.

It was at this stage that I realized that I was falling into the material trap.

If I wanted to track my sleep, I could do so by recognizing when I was tire, when I was awake, what triggers were involved in any insomnia episodes and so on. If I wanted my heart rate, I could press my thumb to the veins on my wrist and count. And, when I had a cheap fitness watch on my wrist, there would always be others who would point out the superiority of their watches.

In reality, I only wanted the watch for vanity purposes and to keep up with my spouse and her friends, who had similar units.

That is the trap of materialism, encapsulated in a simple techie gadget. We want, and, most often, we wat because others have. But do we need? A minimalist lifestyle is constructed around the idea that we can enjoy more, with less. Without the watch, I make myself more aware of my own self and body rhythms, less aware of what others are showing off as their latest possessions.

My spouse is not overly material. However, she does like her assortment of clothes and jewellery. And it is easy to follow that path, without recognizing it. Last year, I cleaned my own closet, donating in excess of two dozen items of clothing. Some, I had not worn. Others, I had worn less than five times. Others were very similar to shirts and pants that I already owned. How had this happened?

Like most of us, I love a deal. Almost every item had been purchased, over the prior ten years, at a minimum of fifty or sixty percent off regular price. But I hadn’t needed them. Again, when I shopped with my spouse, she would see these deals and convince me that they were too good to resist. Then, I would take the item back to the rack and find a cheaper one. Still, I was buying needlessly.

A friend recently donated two of her husband’s three-thousand-dollar suits to charity. He had not worn them in a few years, but loathed discarding them. She was able to convince him that they were worth nothing of he did not wear them and, if donated to a charitable group, someone would get use out of them. He agreed, Somewhere in the city, a homeless person may be wearing a $3000 outfit!

It is difficult to resist the urge to acquire, but the most effective way to do so is to pause (maybe even for a day or so), and reflect on whether we are satisfying a need or a want.

I am no suggesting we shun all our wants. But, effective minimalism enables us to prioritize our wants, so that we can obtain what we value the most in our lives, at the least cost to benefit ratio. Let the family live the way they choose, but walk your own path regarding your material needs.

Barter Best For Living Simply

In the 1800s, the barter, pledge and sharing networks formed the backbone of the economy of many small communities in North America. These networks often were based on family connections, but also found strong support in community development. Today, particularly in the USA, such cooperatives are viewed, at best, as socialistic, and at worst, communistic. It is unfortunate that we allow the label to define the concept, and, in turn, allow great ideas to be discarded because we chose to pigeonhole them.

Barter networks have regained some of their former popularity in restricted circles, and cooperatives, in general, have found niche appeal. Their implementation, though, could have been employed effectively to mitigate the impact of the 2008 economic downturn. Sharing networks have become the domain of eco-freaks and urban environmentalists, who focus on community-owned bicycles and other transportation assets. Unfortunately, our evolved innate distrust of those that we do not know, and our fear of losing material assets have led us to reject the concept of sharing and pledging as too Utopian to work.

Barter systems, today, most commonly rely upon the business members to provide most of the goods and services that are traded or banked to keep the network functioning. While many programs have city, country or world-wide membership, an effective local barter network can be developed with ease. Think of the old country doctor, as an example. Often, the fee for his work was paid in livestock or food. Travelling repair handymen could count on room and board in exchange for a day's work. Neither of these would be considered retailers or manufacturing businesses.

I belonged, for several years, to a local barter network with international reach, through its affiliate program. I could trade off services that I provided for restaurant meals, business services, auto repairs and even travel. While it proved to be quite valuable for me, it had limitations. Only those with a marketable asset could participate. Yet, I often bought goods privately, and found that there was no capacity for one-on-one, personal trading and banking. There was no structural reason for this; merely a philosophical one.

While working as a rural business development specialist, I structured a community-driven barter system that enabled every member of that community to participate. When I concluded my work with the community, however, no one was willing to take on the task of maintaining interaction lists between members. Yet, as the network would grow, it would be capable of providing an income stream for whoever chose to operate the system.

Barter networks require one essential ingredient, aside from the capacity to input something of value to the group that can be traded or banked. Each member must be willing to input a reasonable value of goods or services, to be banked, thus eliminating the "trust me, I'm good for it" factor. That good faith gesture often hampers the growth of barter networks, yet should be viewed as its strength, because the input of something when joining means that there is a liquid asset to the operation, creating value. In the alternative, barter networks require small cash inputs and contractual indebtedness to ensure viability.

Many look at barter systems skeptically, assuming that they must be somehow illegal. In fact, they are not only legal, but are recognized by the tax systems of all major democratic countries. That, sadly, means that the value of goods traded is taxable. There are some minor concessions allowed, though, that enable the free trade of goods and services in a non-business environment.

Sharing programs, like barter systems, require an element of trust, but also require the charitable (or in-faith) inputs of key members. Sharing programs generally have been limited to urban bicycle-sharing groups, or even automobile pooling, but may be designed to share almost anything, including technology, apartments, equipment and even vacations (think "timeshare"). These programs generally operate as true cooperatives, but offer very viable ways to reduce individual costs while maintaining lifestyles.

Pledge systems are similar to barter network, with the major difference being that items or services are pledged at a future date, while gaining the benefit that you desire today. Some of the community-built or Habitat-style housing projects operate on that premise.

Should you desire more information as to how to set up and operate any of these systems, contact the writer.

Food and Dining Out The Minimalist Way

“Hands off my food!” you say, when I suggest that you can trim an extra 5% off your grocery and meal costs.  Yet, those savings can be so subtle that you hardly will notice the difference.

I have a penchant for lists, it seems, and the process of “going lean” on your meals requires another list, or, at least, a record.  But it is simple.  All you need to do is to compile a total cost for your in-home meals, and a total cost for your dining out costs, for a period of six months.  This can be done easily, if you always pay for these items with credit or debit cards.  I recommend two subtotals (one for each section) and an overall combined total.  Divide by six to get your typical monthly costs for in-home food items and dining out events (including alcohol). Your target costs will be 5% less than the total average.  Some months, you may exceed slightly, but by closely monitoring every cost, you can compensate in other months.

The first series of suggestions focuses upon away-from-home meals.

When ordering alcohol (either at a lounge, restaurant or for a social evening at a friend’s home), alternate between an alcoholic and a non-alcoholic beverage.  At a typical cost of $4-7 per alcoholic drink ($2-3 for non-alcoholic), four drinks per evening, one evening per week out, you will saving $48 per month.  To save an additional $3-4 per week, consider having your first alcoholic drink at home, instead of at the event.

By eliminating one meal away from home per month, you will save $40-50 per couple.  Instead of always dining at fancy restaurants, mix a fast food place into the mix.  Sometimes, these meals can even be less expensive than eating at home.  Drop one cup of exotic (or regular) coffee from your purchases each week, or substitute one regular coffee for the usual latte.

Many restaurants and entertainment venues offer discounts of 10-15% for groups of 10 or more, so party with larger groups of friends occasionally, and arrange, in advance, for the group discount.  Use coupons and specials frequently.

The second series of recommendations evaluates ways to adjust your food buying habits to cut costs.

Consider buying on Mondays. These are slower days, and often, culled produce or meats are available at great discounts, yet still are fresh.  Saturday evenings see the array of grocery items depleted, but there may be great deals available, too.  Buy products that are in season.  This does not just apply to produce.  Turkey, ham and fish all have better pricing at specific times of the year.   Produce can be frozen and stored for several months, if prepared properly.  During the off season, frozen vegetables and canned vegetables generally offer the best prices.

While there is no doubt that “buying local” offers great benefit to area producers, there is some doubt as to whether the policy is financially beneficial to consumers.  Certainly, mass-produced products are less expensive per unit, but there is an abundance of evidence that there are losses in nutrition  benefits in many cases.  The prevalence of contaminated food recalls attests to the risk of “assembly line” food production.  If you opt to cut costs here, be certain that you know the tradeoffs involved.

Bulk buying and participating in buying groups or cooperatives is a common strategy for cutting costs, but these options are not always available to urban residents.   Instead, look to buying multiples of items when those multiple unit purchases result in savings.  A corollary to this principle, though, is the need for caution when buying “family size” units, versus smaller sizes.  Many times, the 3-pound tub of margarine, for example, is more costly per unit than 1-pound tubs.  Comparing toilet tissue purchases is even more difficult, since single versus double rolls, or 12 versus fifteen rolls per pack do not give accurate means for evaluating value.  Each manufacturer puts different numbers of sheets per roll in their product, making apple-to-apple comparisons tough to do “on the fly.”  Even more confusing is that each sheet is a different size, or may be one, two or three ply. Watch cost per unit, and know specifically what each unit may be.

Now, I move to suggestions for trimming costs at home.

Start by cutting back on serving size.  I used to use one chicken filet per meal, regardless of the size.  Before long, I found that one-half a medium filet was adequate, and any trimmings left over could be used in stir frys. Then, I consumed only one half a baked potato at each dinner, instead of a whole one.  A half cup of vegetables is sufficient for the average person, instead of a full cup.  The list goes on.   At breakfast, for example, substitute a half slice of whole wheat toast for the usual full slice of white toast, and feel just as full.

Substitute one of your large afternoon snacks for two small ones, consisting of a handful of nuts and a piece of fruit, instead of a pastry, specialty coffee and another side dish. Cut your home coffee costs by saving excess prepared coffee and storing it in the refrigerator.  Use a reusable coffee k-cup (Keurig brand name), instead of the throwaway one-coffee unit. Bring your own snacks to work, and save money, in addition to enjoying snacks that are not readily available on the job.

Prepare many meals in advance, and freeze them.  Use culled fruit and overripe bananas for baking, or in composite desserts.  These produce items often are available at 75% off regular prices.

While this discussion of how to trim 5% from your food budget is far from exhaustive, it provides a very workable guide to saving money.  And where can this money be directed?  Anywhere you choose, from holidays to charitable giving.  Even though your food expenditures still will provide you with filling and nutritious meals, the ability to direct another 5-10% of your budget to worthwhile areas will prove to be fulfilling, instead of just filling! 

Magnifying Your Money

Where I call home, we have people who pay $10,000 for a snowmobile, so they can spend $400 per month on fuel while they tear around the countryside dressed in insulated snowsuits (to keep out the cold) for three months a year in minus 30 weather.  Then, in the summer, they skip across Lake Winnipeg for another three months of the year in $25,000 boats, spending $400 per year on dock privileges and another $1,200 on fuel.  To get their favourite toys where they want, they haul them around in $55,000 trucks, spending $800 per month on fuel and $300 per month on insurance.  But they also complain about being poor!

The problem with this incongruity is that they may be correct.  Poor is a relative state of mind.  I was raised in a household where the annual income never exceeded $3,800 in any year, and averaged $1,500-2,000.  Yet, we were not poor.  I had the most wonderful Huck Finn childhood.  Around us, the rich families earned $12-15,000 per year.  The rest of our province – hell, the rest of our country – branded those elite wealthy of our community as poverty-stricken.  Of course, our province was officially listed by the rest of Canada as one of the half-dozen “have-not” provinces in the dominion.  But wouldn’t the entire population of Haiti think they were in Paradise if they each earned $1,500 per year?  Yes, poverty and wealth are relative.

The issue of wealth really has nothing to do with money.  It has to do with quality, priorities and preferences. Quality, like wealth, is not defined objectively, either.  Instead, the essence of quality is the purpose intended of an item or event versus the cost (money or effort inputted) of that item.  A $1 spatula, intended to be used twice at a family barbeque, may have more relative quality than a $15 platinum spatula, used ten times.  Priorities, again, are subjective, and are determined by evaluating cost, benefit and urgency.  A twenty-five year-old probably will value an $85 concert ticket for his favourite band over the $85 invested at 5% interest and used as retirement money, even though that $85 would be worth $570 by the time the person turned 65.  Preferences require a personal consideration, as well.  The same twenty-five year old may value his guitar at $300 and his band concert ticket at $85, but a chance to have a guitar signed by the band bass guitar player may be worth more than the sum of the two; many times more.  I prefer red wine to white, even though they are priced equivalently.  My red wine, the twenty-five year old’s signed guitar and the barbeque host’s $1 spatula may each represent a form of wealth.

Having presented my case for the idiosyncratic definition of wealth versus poverty, my own interpretation of how to become wealthy without money may well be an easy case to make.  The synopsis of this concept is that we can find the money for almost anything that is truly important to us and that all we need to do is pare down to the core of what we find to be important to us, in order to slough off the excess of what is not vital.

Let me take a sharp right turn in this conversation.  One of the recent hot political topics is the 99% versus the 1% in the USA , and the debate over the disparity in relative earnings of the top 1% of income earners against the bottom 99%.  Achieving what we 99 percenters want, for the most part, may be accomplished simply by uncovering an extra 2% of disposable income.  We may not be able to build a $12m mansion, but, after we complete our economic soul-searching, find our priorities and establish our preferences, we can attain our own personal definition of wealth.

I will discuss how to free up another five percent on your food budget, 10% on your clothing and toiletries, 5-10% on your household upkeep, 10-20% on gifts, and so on.  Perhaps you, too, would like your own snowmobile or boat, or like to enjoy the winter in a tropical climate.  Perhaps you would like to make a difference to the environment or global poverty issues.  This, too, may be possible.  Simply, we will redefine wealth, and show you how you already have the capacity to be richer than you thought possible.

The Cruisin’ Minimalist

When I view minimalist art, I do not appraise it and declare, “That’s not minimalism.  It’s not doing without.”  In fact, the idea that minimalism is about focusing on that which we relinquish or don’t have is an entirely distorted perspective on simplicity.  Minimalist art does without nothing.  It is akin to the old wood carver, who was asked how he decided what to carve out of his length of raw wood.  His reply was simple.  “I merely look at the wood, and see what is in there.  Then I just get rid of the stuff that doesn’t belong.”

I have heard this analogy before, in various settings.  Minimalism focuses on finding what should be there, and nothing more, whether it involves interior design, business operations or lifestyles.  I regularly read blogs and articles by those who espouse minimalism, simple living, voluntary simplicity and frugal living.  Many of those writers espouse getting rid of stuff, and living with less.  This seems intuitive, since minimal implies living with the minimum of something. I, too, consider myself to be a minimalist.  I have relatively few household possessions, keep my wardrobe to the most basic, have forfeited our second vehicle, shop for bargains, employ those assets that can do double duty, and so on.  These all are tenets of voluntary simplicity, as it is commonly accepted.  Yet, I also indulge myself.

Minimal art does the same.  Minimalist art decries the clutter of unnecessary elements, and, in turn, highlights the focus, and the most significant facets of the work.  In my book, The Last Drop Of Living: A Minimalist’s Guide To Living The High Life On A Low Budget, I draw the comparison between minimal living and displays in an art gallery or museum.  The focal piece on the gallery is not hidden by an assortment of frivolous support pieces.  Instead, it likely will be found on a pedestal apart from other pieces, or on a naked wall, featuring only that artwork.  It is the most critical component, the only element that matters.  It is not diminished by being alone.  Rather, it is enhanced.  Minimalism should allow us to find the most important things in our life, and focus upon them.

With that in mind, I built my personal strategy for “going minimal.”  It involved a very basic process: decide what is important to me, and what is unimportant.  Next, I opted to relinquish  those things and ideas that may have value, but that were less vital than others.  Both my wife and I chose to focus on our leisure as vital to our enjoyment.  Essential to those recreational priorities was the idea of cruising.

Today, I write this blog on board the @Norwegian Pearl, as we leave the Grand Stirrup Cay for our next Caribbean destination.  How is such a lavish holiday “minimalist?”  Simple.  In exchange for giving up frequent dinner-out evenings, a second vehicle, extra home furnishings, a big house, etc., we are able to apply some of our surplus resources to a great holiday.  It is the second of four cruises we will have taken within the year.

But sacrificing in one area of living and then splurging in another is like saying, “Well, I stuck to my ‘no smoking’ pledge for six months, so now I’m going to celebrate by having a huge cigar, or overeating for the next six months.” 

As a dedicated minimalist, I need to show  restraint in the area of my holidays, as well, if I wish to avoid my own internal dissonance.  So, I cruise minimally, as well.  Websites like @www.vacationstogo.com (+mmilheim@vacationstogo.com), @www.cruisedirect.com, individual cruise line websites (like +www.ncl.com (@NorwegianCruiseLine@email.ncl.com)) and several other discount providers offer discounts that may be as much as 80% off the brochure price.  By screening carefully, one can boast of significant savings, and demonstrations of frugality.  By purchasing in a 90 day window prior to sailing, prices may drop further.  By booking inside staterooms, you are able to obtain rock-bottom prices (inside staterooms, after all, are only used for eight hours each night, while the rest of our time is spent on shore or on deck.).

When I factor in the cost of food, entertainment and supplies, plus the cost of accommodations, I discover that each day on a cruise costs less than the cost of a budget motel room each night!

Ask the more rigid advocates of minimalism whether we truly can be considered to be living a life of voluntary simplicity and you will receive a resounding “No.”  That’s fair enough.  They see the world differently than I do.  But tell me, would you rather live in a cardboard box, eat scraps and proclaim yourself a minimalist, or would you prefer to get the most out of each moment at the best price while being ostracized by the self-professed puritans?  Live minimally.  Cruise to your heart’s content!

Minimalism In The Big City

Voluntary simplicity and minimal living have great cachet in today’s fragile economic times.  Frugal living is nothing new, and simple living has bee the mainstay of many environmentally aware people for decades.  However, the concept has not gained widespread acceptance for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is the tendency to look to rural living or escaping from the “big city”  standards of living as the primary technique for achieving a simple lifestyle.  Yet, living minimally actually is easier to undertake in urban centres, even though the social pressures to conform to more materialistic lifestyles are significant.

Living with less is the primary focus of this lifestyle, but, in truth, the most gratifying aspect of cutting back on frills is the ability to focus on the most important aspects of our lives.  That is unique to each of us, yet proponents of the way of living too often urge us to adopt their own perspectives and interpretations of simple living.   It is far from an accurate or satisfying approach.

My wife and I opted to live in a yurt, off the grid, for several years.  However, I would never advocate that everyone else who wants to embrace voluntary simplicity move to a rural environment, live off the grid or build their own yurt.  It was our personal preference.

Other acquaintances have employed a more basic approach to living in the city, without any difficulty and with a lot of enjoyment.

In the city, one has greater access to options than in the country, and greater opportunities to employ alternative strategies to reduce ownership while increasing enjoyment of assets and activities.

One of the greatest materialistic and economic burdens is the automobile.  Yet, any owner will tell you that the car is essential to daily life.  There are several options, however, to reduce reliance on personal ownership of a vehicle in the city.  While public transportation is the most frequently cited substitute, other alternatives include “car sharing” (where owners either opt for specific times of the day or days of the week to use a shared vehicle),  commuter vehicles (mopeds, etc), bicycles, weekend vehicle rentals (or on-demand rentals) and seasonal leasing.

Of course, to reduce the need for a vehicle, simply either move closer to work or search for a job closer to home!

In the 1970s, many young people (most often, young men) cut housing costs by sharing a house.  The modern-day extension of this concept is for homeowners who wish to cut housing costs to lease out rooms or share the house with other renters.

In the vein of shared housing, consider sharing other entertainment assets.  On average, a video or DVD is viewed fewer than three times, yet millions of us buy and store vast collections of movies.  Similarly, print books gather dust on the shelves after one or two readings.  Why not develop an exchange program with friends, passing these movies, CDs and books or magazines among the members of the group.  Lower cost, greater reach of each piece of entertainment!  Even many e-books can be shared or “loaned” on Amazon and other e-book vendors.  Hundreds of thousands of free songs and books are available, legally.

Inexpensive entertainment can become free entertainment, if you opt for “open house” days at local zoos, art galleries, museums and even local high school drama productions.  In summer, most cities offer myriad free entertainment, including bands, dance groups and theatre.

Many places offer discounts for groups of six or more people.  Inquire as to whether the entertainment venue that you wish to visit will provide a bulk rate, and then arrange for a group outing.

Weekly visits to restaurants form the backbone of the food service industry.  However, home-based parties provide a much more relaxed atmosphere.  Consider arranging for a regular rotation of hosted dinner parties (e.g. each member of a group of eight hosts once every two months).   

There are hundreds of ways to minimize costs while simplifying your life in the big city.  Most rely on the principle of owning less, or getting more mileage out of each possession.  Be creative, and the need to own will become less of an addiction, or even a craving.  At the same time, you will find that your budget dollars last much longer!

Lean, As Well As Green, Living Combines Best Of Each Concept

A popular lifestyle trend, advocated by many who profess to live responsibly, is the voluntary simplicity movement.  In its raw form, minimal living requires that we eschew material wealth, and look to a standard of living that involves the least amount of possessions. Simultaneously,  the environmental movement demands that we create the smallest eco-footprint that we can, guarding the environment preciously. Both lifestyles appear to have much in common, yet, oddly, there is only a nominal effort to blend the two together.

There is vociferous opposition to the eco-friendly concept by those that seek to deny the reality of climate change.  The anti-tree hugger groups gravitate toward the argument that, since global warming is a myth (or, at best, not caused by human actions), there is no need to spend effort on protecting the ecology of the earth.  These people miss the point of being eco-friendly.

I live a modest lifestyle, yet do not begrudge those that have wealth and show it.  The premise built into the anti-environment people’s argument is that, if what they do will cause no serious harm, then there is no reason to discontinue being disrespectful and selfish regarding pollution problems. Extrapolating that argument to the middle/upper income situation then, I should be able to simply take what I want from those who have affluence, simply because it will have no monetary impact on them.  Even more to the point, I should be able to walk into the anti-climate change proponents’ homes and dump whatever garbage and pollution I want in their back yard, because the filth will not impact on the environment.  The fact is, whether or not my actions harm the environment, I should act responsibly as much as possible, including taking care to not impact on others’ enjoyment of the world around them!

Living a green lifestyle simply says that I want to enjoy this earth, but that I do not need to be wasteful to do so.  I want to take only what I need on this globe, not what I want.  I choose to live cleanly and simply, as much as possible.

Those that embrace the minimalist approach to living often are labelled as harshly as “tree huggers” by those that think that we choose to live this lifestyle because we have nothing, and want others to do the same. I have been told that most of us choose this way of living because, if we have little in the way of material wealth, we don’t have to work as hard to get it.  In essence, I am being told that I choose voluntary simplicity because I am lazy!  It is an intriguing label, given that a) I have developed multi-million dollar businesses for others, b) have owned (and sold for pennies) a business that grossed $1.6 million in its second year of business, and c) living minimally takes a lot of conscious effort and (the horror!) work.  Voluntary simplicity says that I do not need material wealth to generate huge enjoyment out of life.  Indeed, it offers a richness for which money cannot  be bartered.

Both minimalism and environmentalism seek to embrace living consciously and enthusiastically, but without taking huge bites out of that which is available to consume.  By doing so, more is left for others to enjoy.  This idea that “lean” is an ideal to aim toward is not radical, nor impossible.  It is realistic, and hugely gratifying.  Similarly, “going green” is a fantastic journey, allowing us to take Robert Frost’s road less travelled. He was so correct when he claimed that doing so “has made all the difference.”  Will the world be greener because of me?  Who knows?  Will my efforts at living with less pay dividends for others?  Possibly not.  Neither matters.  The lean and green living concept offers an option that combines, for me, the epitome of what I see is my duty.  Nothing more, nothing less.

Simple Minds Or Untapped Genius?

The world waits on our best scientific minds and deep corporate financial pockets to provide us with solutions to our global energy crisis.  We know that it is only a matter of time and money before they develop cost-effective solar solutions, and eliminate our dependence upon fossil fuels.  But the promised alternative energy Nirvana has been long in the development, with little sign of imminent solution.  So why are we waiting on our self-proclaimed and acknowledged academic and financial geniuses?  Stan Ovshinsky already has proven that these great inventions do not have to originate from huge monetary investments or conventional intellectuals.

Mr. “Call me Stan” Ovshinsky is the guy who invented the battery that powers most laptop computers, and was the force behind the invention of hydrogen fuel cells, LCD TV screen technology and electric car systems, along with being the holder of nearly 1,000 patents.  Yet, he never graduated high school.

With this apparent lack of genius, he was able to show that the conventional theories about semi-conductors were wrong, much to the chagrin of scientists who scoffed at this nearly uneducated man.  Undeterred, Stan and his wife used their meagre savings to start Energy Conversion Devices, and began developing and marketing his inventions.  His everyday genius has provided us with incredible breakthroughs in the understanding of alternative energy concepts.  At the age of 85, he started two new companies, focused upon making solar cell energy less costly than coal.  Unfortunately, he died, just shy of his 90^th birthday, with his latest dreams unfulfilled.

It is not the intuitive brilliance of his creations that is Mr. Ovshinsky’s legacy.  Rather, it is the lesson that each of us could learn from his example: every one of us is capable of contributing to the solutions needed in today’s world, from social to economic to concrete creations.  The myth that only big money and educated academics are able to solve the complex issues confronting us has been completely disintegrated because of the practical example set by Stan Ovchensky.

While money may be needed to bring ideas to commercial fruition, those essential, initial steps – the dreams, ideas and concepts – require only the application of our own unique perspectives and experiences.  It is the combination of these two elements that germinate the genius within each of us.  Rather than regarding our own meagre contributions as the uniformed inspirations of a simple mind, we should act upon those insights as if they were -- all of them – the seeds of the next most marvellous event to change the world.

Micro-lending, Telephone Banking and M-Pesa For Minimalists

In a part of the world hardly known for its economic innovations, a revolution in finance offers a concept that is a brilliant solution for North Americans: M-Pesa.

M-Pesa is a cellular-telephone money-handling idea that allows Kenyans to store money on their cell phones, transfer the money across the country, and avoid costly bank fees in the process.  It is a concept that provides a real stimulus for commerce and micro-business development.

In other parts of Africa, another innovation – micro-lending – offers a platform on which budding entrepreneurs with creative ideas and a commitment to success can build micro- and extremely small businesses through funding sources that may provide as little as $20 for a business start-up.  Yet, this supposedly pathetic funding model has resulted in financial independence and freedom from abject poverty for thousands of Africans without access to conventional financing.

Ironically, both concepts would work in western economies, but have been eschewed, largely because they lack the glamour, polish and complexity of conventional business models held out as being the most efficient in our North American markets.  Particularly, both schemes are adaptable for those of us who embrace the minimalistic mantra for living: simple is better.  M-Pesa’s equivalent – telephone banking – has been usurped by the domestic financial community in North America, with, aside from PayPal, the only significant cellular banking formats being conducted through one’s existing banking institutions or credit card providers.

M-Pesa has grown beyond Kenya, to countries like South Africa and Tanzania, where geography and weak banking infrastructure make access to finances difficult.  The concept, though, allows for users to hold money on their phones, then attend at any of myriad kiosks in these countries, where they are able to obtain actual cash to make purchases or pay bills where cellular funds would not be accepted.  This component of M-Pesa overlaps into conventional North American debit systems.

Micro-lending, like M-Pesa, has grown out of the unique, impoverished demands of Africa.  As an option to no funding whatever, or worse, loan sharks, workers can borrow money from a non-profit micro-lender to establish a very localized business, obtain raw materials or inventory or expand an existing cottage micro-business.  A mere $20 loan can provide economic stability that will enable an undertaking, otherwise doomed to failure, to flourish.

Again, like M-Pesa, micro-lending is a concept that would work well in North American systems, if not for our myopic belief that “big” is the only way and that any lending needs the financial skirt and blouse of respectability and perception of quality.  In fact, micro-lending on a community basis may be nothing more complex than a bartering system, using cash instead of goods.  Micro-lending can take place, based on faith and the security of future product and/or service.

Since conventional capitalism seems to be reluctant to embrace something so base as an M-Pesa or micro-lending network, the opportunity exists for those of us who embrace simplicity.  Networks of money exchanges could be set up, with little difficulty and no risk to lenders, but using only one centrally managed bank account and a team of volunteer overseers.  The equivalent to M-Pesa similarly could flourish, using a combination of barter and social network tenets, at almost no cost to the participants.  Yet, established financial institutions would, most likely, seek to block such initiatives, ostensibly because it would be perceived as risky for individuals, but, in actuality, to protect the institutional lenders’ territory.

Such a concept – discarding establishment corporate power – probably would be welcomed enthusiastically by such fringe groups as survivalist and anti-government bodies, and, in turn, be viewed suspiciously by those of us who may be more mainstream.  This should not keep us from, at least, exploring the potential in these viable ideas.  All that we require is a willingness to be open to the proposal, and identification of individuals or groups willing to take the lead in setting up M-Pesa and Micro-lending for Americans.  Are you one such person?

Creeping Materialism

I didn’t notice that we were closet materialists until  …. well, until we emptied out all our closets!

Last fall, my wife and I reluctantly moved out of our yurt for the winter months, and purchased an old home in desperate need of extensive repairs nearby.  There were a few reasons for the decision. 

First, at age 60, I am getting somewhat reluctant to shovel snow from a driveway that is 975 yards long, in a Manitoba winter.  On average, we would be shovelling ten to twelve times per year, and, after doing it twice in one week last winter, I knew that I did not want to do it again.  Being a bit of an eco-freak, I also refuse to buy a tractor or snow blower, just yet.  So, it was shovel or shove off.  I chose the latter.

Second, also because I am a bit of an eco-freak and consider myself to be handy, I felt that, if I upgraded the windows, doors, insulation and heating system on this old house, the home would be a great year-round retirement place, at a very good price, for some lucky buyer.

Third, I was not yet ready for full retirement, and this project would provide me with a fair amount of exercise, a little extra cash and a chance to learn new curse words as I demolished the old interior.  (I did learn those new words, by the way.)

But moving for only the winter months meant that we opted to buy a few new items of furniture, new window coverings, new fixtures, a few new tools, new accessories for staging the home when we sold, and even new clothes (because the snow was too deep to get back to the yurt, in winter, when we left for vacation).

This spring, we put the house up for sale.  It didn’t sell.  Then, it didn’t sell.  And, by late summer, it still didn’t sell. So, we put the land and yurt up for sale.  In two days, it sold.  Then, on the day after closing the deal on the yurt, a potential buyer offered us an acceptable price on the house.  We didn’t sell. 

So now, we had to move everything from the yurt to the house. That was when we discovered that we were closet materialists.  In a strange way, we were “outted” by a lack of closets.  Today, our garage is overflowing with surplus possessions.  Our home is as full as any other materialist’s home, but with a strange assortment of stuff that we neither wanted nor needed, but purchased, “just in case.”  Extra spring jackets, extra pictures, extra seating, extra space heaters, extra lighting, extra lawn accessories and so on. We have three air compressors (for roofing), since one failed on the day we needed it and the other was trapped, by the snow, at the yurt.    We have four hammers, extra cabinets, two sofas, two barbeques, an extra oven, two washers, two dryers and four ladders.

I only purchased what I felt we absolutely needed, when we needed it.  Yet, as you can see from this partial list, I have a surfeit of stuff.  This is the most commonly travelled path to materialism: we fail to plan ahead, we purchase for the moment and we confuse wants with needs.  It is creeping materialism.

This weekend, though, we will hold a garage sale.  Regardless of the price, we will be unburdening ourselves of our excess.  Anyone need an air compressor for a buck? And, do you know where I can by an extra yurt?

Bartering Best For Minimal Lifestyle

In the small village in which I was raised, it was common for a neighbour to bake twenty or so loaves of bread one day, and make the rounds giving away a few loaves to each of her closest friends.  Another neighbour might have cooked a vat of stew, which she shared with others.  In hunting season, the men would bring home thirty or more birds for plucking and cleaning by the women, who then distributed them in the community.

Men would, whenever needed, spend a day or two building shops and sheds for friends, or one who could do electrical repairs would fix plugs and lights throughout the village, asking nothing in return.  However, when he need mechanical work done, there was always a neighbour who would be able to weld or repair machinery.

This concept of community seems overly simplistic and archaic, yet it worked exceptionally well.  Where and when did it die?

The 2008 economic downturn helped to revive the spirit of need, but not the spirit of sharing and cooperative effort.  It may be that the entrepreneurial, independent spirit that we have been told is the hallmark of American society has been the cause of this misguided independence.  It is not dependency to offer your skill set to those in need, and then, in time, to have the favour returned. 

Those of us who have opted for one variation or another of voluntary simplicity in our lives have uncovered the benefits of community, and caring for the community.  It is nothing more than barter. I do something that is within my skill set and abilities for someone, and, some time later, I call on someone else to provide a service or goods for me. 

Money has interceded in the very logical and most-often effective system of tradeoffs and pooling of resources for individual and group benefit.  Money, and government.

The IRS and Canada Revenue Agency both view bartering as taxable.  You do carpentry work for Joe, and then “bank” that service,” redeeming it later for free merchandise, you have bartered.  If you are operating as a business, then you and the other party are taxed on the fair market value of those goods. 

But are backyard exchanges of garden produce, or household goods, or helping hands considered “business?”  Both tax agencies have ruled inconsistently on this matter.  “Is there a profit intent?” they ask.  Well, if you consider that you got rid of something of little value to you but of greater value to someone else, and in exchange the opposite was true, then that could be considered a profitable transaction.  But where is the business component?

For the most part, government turns a blind eye to such elementary transactions, and therein lies the opportunity for the industrious minimalist.  Bartering and trading of goods and services is a fantastic way to minimize owning or possessing items that you rarely use, but occasionally need.  Community spirit and the honest, fair exchange of goods cuts costs, cuts ownership obligation, and is a very efficient use of resources. And, it is an act of independence, not dependence, that has operated successfully for thousands of years.

Successful Living Like Successful Dying

We should learn lessons on living from those that have died successfully.  If that sounds convoluted, or even fatalistic, it is not.  Succinctly put, dying successfully involves living even more triumphantly. Many of us neither live well nor die well.  Substantially, that is because we not only have been indoctrinated with false assumptions and values, but also have been conditioned to live comparatively and competitively, in every aspect of our lives.

I want to draw on four people in my life as examples of dealing with the prospect of dying, or, at least, dealing with a life-threatening illness.

The first, diagnosed with breast cancer in the 1960s, responded by angrily determining to beat the disease, even though radical surgery was required.  Her prognosis was terrible, but she lived another ten years, at last weakened beyond recovery in a serious car accident.

The second died of throat cancer, after denying that his smoking was a contributor and refusing to deal with the growth on his neck for over a year.  When, in the latter stages of cancer, he was told that he might gain a few weeks or months of life if he quit, responded, “It isn’t worth it,” and smoked to his last day.

The third bemoaned his fate, gave up and died quickly.

The fourth person accepted the diagnosis, looked into alternatives, made adjustments in his life and continued on with daily activities, letting the diagnosis have as little impact on the way that he lived as possible.

These people are representative of the world at large, and dealt with their illnesses in typical manner, with varying degrees of success.  Two, of course, decreased the quality and duration of their lives significantly by their inaction. 

Dr.  Fiore, a specialist in issues of dying,  recommends that a person with a fatal illness starts by taking charge of his or her life, asking lots of good questions, and making informed choices regarding doctors, hospitals and treatments. He further suggests that the patient should express his feelings through talking or writing them down, singing or even screaming. He concludes by telling his patients that they should treat the illness, not like a Rocky Balboa fight, but trusting the body to know what to do.

Psychological researcher, Dr. C. Scanlon, in his 1989 article entitled, “Creating a vision of hope: The challenge of palliative care.” (Oncology Nursing Forum, 16(4), 491-496.), itemizes the following as the primary worries of a person with a terminal illness: 1) Further debilitation and dependency, 2) Pain and suffering,  3) Consequences for dependents and arranging affairs, 4) An uncertain future, 5) Lingering, 6) Dying alone, 7) Loss of control, 8) Changing relationships, 9) Existential concerns,  10) Change in mental functioning and 11) Afterlife.

As we examine each of these concerns, we find that, in a nutshell, people facing death primarily focus on issues relating to loss of control.  By placing health management responsibly in the hands of the patient, the stress associated with loss of control is diminished.

This concern over control in death is the same with control in life.  Most of us ride life, instead of steering.  We are not in control, and, in turn, we experience stress.  More stress, less happiness.  Less happiness, less fulfillment. 

Such a simple conclusion seems --- well, too simple!  It is not.  Those people with an external locus of control, who give their lives into the hands of others, are less fulfilled that those who take control of those things that impact on their own lives, and those things over which they can exercise responsible control.  They are less stressed, more vibrant, more explorative, more willing and able to face hurdles, not as insurmountable problems, but as challenges to be faced and overcome.

Death is an insurmountable problem.  Dying is not, and should be approached by seeking to maintain as much control over the process and facts as possible.  Living, equally, is a process that demands that to be successfully navigated and enjoyed we must be involved in and managing the events in our lives.

Live Life As If You Were Already Retired

From the time we begin our adult working life, we are inoculated with the belief that we should plan, save and direct substantial amounts of our energy toward being ready for retirement.  Yet, we live a retired lifestyle for an average of sixteen years, and work for nearly 40. So where is the wisdom of focusing on the future, when it is so distant and such a small portion of our adult life?

The concept of retirement planning is, of course, with merit.  However, living for today also carries merit.  There are extremes of lifestyle focused in each of these directions, with those that indolently absorb the moment, but are totally unprepared for any contingency or emergency that may arise, counting on society to take care of their needs.  On the other hand, there are frugal, obsessive individuals who hoard pennies to be ready for old age, and, when old age arrives, fret over every coin that is spent, even when faced with the truth that they have more than enough set aside to live comfortably.  In the middle is the route to comfort and balance, making the most of each moment without selfish indulgence.

Unfortunately, modern technologies and modern standards blur the lines between responsible work and planning, enjoying one’s life and being a contributing part of the world around us.  Our laptop computers, tablets and smart phones carry our personal lives to work, our business lives home.  Exclusive, valued time spent with close friends has become shared with Facebook and Twitter, email and text friendships at our fingertips.   Quiet time frequently is shattered with the beep, tweet, chirp, ring or jingle that alerts us to incoming communications.  Few of us demonstrate the will power or social awareness to defer answering these devices, regardless of where we are or what we may be doing.  We live, not for the moment, but governed by that moment – a moment owned by whoever is intruding into our time.  There is no exclusivity to our time, whether it be work, play, community personal or family.

We have become a society that has no future, but is directed to save for it.  We have become a culture that has a surfeit of time, but gives it away frivolously, then bemoans the loss.  We have become slaves to the moment, but that moment is defined by others, for the most part.

To embrace the idea that we should live for the moment is as polarizing as to embrace the idea that we should focus exclusively on the future.  However, we do need to value the moment, and anticipate the upcoming life. 

Studies show that we derive more value from small, frequent pleasures than from one large indulgence.  On the other hand, analyses reveal that we are more stressed by frequent minor annoyances beyond our control than by larger, infrequent crises.  The logical corollary to these two conclusions is that, to get the most out of life, we need to take time to embrace the world around us, but to do so in a manner that provides long term satisfaction rather than short term spikes of pleasurable but selfish indulgence.  The future will be shaped by how we view and interact with life today.  If we opt to ride the crests and valleys formed by others around us, we will experience less enjoyment in the moment than if we take a balanced view of our contribution to the environment around us in relation to what we would like to see come back to us.  We should grab each moment, not each day, and look to being the best we can be, not look to grabbing the most we can get.

By snatching at every incoming communication, by mashing work with personal life, by sacrificing friendly personal interaction for electronic jabber, we are ingesting everything, but like the cow in the foxtail patch discovers, everything is not always a pleasure to eat!

Balance, then, is vital.  Enjoy the moments of pleasure, but enjoy, also, the moments of effort and hard work.  Save and plan for the future, but also plan and spend as if the future is today.  Use technology to embrace life, rather than letting gadgets sap life from your fingertips.  Live each moment as if you were already retired!

Is Chasing Happiness A Selfish Pursuit?

Like the American dream of owning your own home and becoming wealthy, the pursuit of happiness has become the touchstone that identifies the focus of many of our lives.  But is the pursuit of happiness, like the dream of financial success, an overtly and overly selfish concept?

As a child of the hippie era, I lived my early adult years in the fog of self indulgence and Spartan decadence, with hundreds of thousands of young North Americans around me choosing the irresponsibility of unemployment, “free love” and separation from the pedantic duty to the world around us.  Yet, our generation burdened those other North Americans that chose to work hard to build a strong nation, through consumption of health care and social assistance, and reliance on the infrastructure that those others sought to maintain. 

On the other hand, the social change brought about by indulging in personal exploration and examination of conscience helped in the evolution of the American and Canadian societies of today – both good and bad.

So, after forty years, our world has made a full turn, from indolence to industry, and back to the pursuit of individual happiness.  Will this quest for happiness have a different end result than that of the 1960s and 1970s?  Most likely, given that the gist of the modern effort is to find happiness in material wealth and luxury.  Ironically, many of those former capitalists and “yuppies,” though, are seeking satisfaction in a life of voluntary simplicity, and in that chase, hope to find happiness. 

One segment is looking for contentment in self indulgence, while the other is choosing self denial as a means to the same end.  Like a binge dieter, both probably are destined for failure.  The reason is not so much in their methods, but in their goals.  Like a dieter whose objective is to lose weight for some external reason, the reason may fade, and, with it, motivation.  But those that seek to become more healthy often have, as an integral part of the strategy, losing weight, along with changes in mental outlook, physical fitness and so on.  It is this balance that, according to psychologists, is more likely to result in long-term results.

Chasing after happiness is, in effect, a race to lose weight.  Happiness is only one part of wellbeing.  Immediate euphoric happiness, after all, can be found in a cloud of hallucinogenic smoke or a shot of illegal drugs.  Sopping up happiness, by itself, is not a goal but an act of gluttony.

On the other hand, happiness results when we embrace a concept of wholeness and completeness. 

I live in a climate where there are extremes of cold and hot.  I can only appreciate either if I have experienced the opposite.  True pleasure is maximized in contrast to a prior experience of discomfort.  Contentment comes from exerting oneself for the betterment of a cause, from helping others and from doing well, but not at the expense of others.  In other words, I must experience work to enjoy rest, and satisfaction after facing angst. 

Happiness, on its own, is not indulgent or selfish.  Happiness without earning it is. 

This philosophy does not require that I deliberately set out to be unhappy or experience discomfort in order to pursue happiness.  However, it does require that I be sufficiently courageous to face the possibility of negative experiences, in order to claim my spot at the happiness buffet.

Instead of viewing life through my own needy eyes, I should seek to find a fulfilling life, and from that fulfillment find happiness.  Having set aside my immediate wants to satiate the needs that I see around me, having taken the time to find a life that gives outwardly before it craves inwardly, and having understood that happiness is fleeting, while contentment is lasting, I will be able to accept happiness as a worthy objective.

Labelling Minimalism, Voluntary Simplicity, Simple Living and Frugal Lifestyles

The most significant problem with labels such as minimalist, living simply, voluntary simplicity or frugal living is that the categorizing itself is purely subjective.  A minimalist may eschew all possessions, or focus on a few premium pieces.  Voluntary simplicity suggests that one can acquire anything he wants, but opts for a Spartan existence. Frugal lifestyles seem to imply that the subject lives “on the cheap” with everything.  Living simply, too, evokes images of backwoods, back-to-the-earth survivalism.  Yet, each may describe the same lifestyle.  Rather than attempting to label, it is easier to visualize the concept of selective possession, and view true minimalism as a way of filtering out the excesses.

I, for example, own few material possessions, live in a yurt and often harvest wild plants.  Yet, far from being bereft of money or liquid assets, we own a newer Prius, holiday three or four times each year in exotic or far-flung locales and live a life free of worry about finances.  Our choices are the envy of many friends, yet are options available to anyone who wishes to prioritize his life similarly to us.  We do not measure ourselves by what we own, but how we live.  We own few tangibles, yet also own a library of memories and pleasurable moments.

How many of us, though, are mentally and financially prepared to make the sacrifices that allow us to make choices focused on voluntary simplicity?  A simple test will reveal our capacity to not only adapt, but to embrace this alternative way of living.  Oddly, the first time I tested myself using this simple strategy, I felt significant stress and anxiety – a little like being lost, alone and in a strange country.

 Choose a mid-week day for your trial. Leave home without your cash, credit or debit cards, and no means to access them.  If you take the bus or subway to work, carry the tokens essential for a trip to and from work, nothing more.  No coffee money, no gift cards for restaurants and so on.  If possible, leave your cell phone at home, and, under no circumstance use it to access a friend’s support or make purchases.  Sounds simple, right?  Almost certainly, the minute you are isolated from any means of funds to make spontaneous purchases, you will begin to go through a withdrawal, regardless how minor.  Yet, do we really need that morning latte, the afternoon drink, the chance to make an impulse buy?  A mere day of deprivation will reveal just how essential these comfort buys are to you, and whether you are emotionally ready to embrace a minimalistic lifestyle wholeheartedly.

That one day was tough?  Now set yourself up for three days, or a week. 

My first test, predictably, found me longing for my daily coffee fix, and wondering what I would do if a crisis occurred.  The fact that no such dilemma had confronted me for months (or perhaps years) prior was not material.  The “what ifs” drove my thinking for much of that day.  However, at the end of the day, I discovered that I was not embracing my return to materialism, but was, instead, exhilarated by my newly found freedom.  I have always been a spendthrift or a tightwad, depending upon the moment and the mood.  For years, I carried upwards of four to six thousand dollars cash in my pockets, and my low-limit credit card as backup.  Now, I carry no credit cards, no debit cards, and rarely have more than fifty cents in my pocket.  Do I long for the days of superfluous cash?  Hardly. 

The measure of whether you, too, are suited to involve yourself in a life of voluntary simplicity  really is whether you fear the lack of possessions or love the thrill of attempting to discard all of the excess you own.  In order to adopt this new way of viewing your possessions, you need to adopt a new way of viewing your life.  Is your life defined by the moments of pleasure you get from all of life, or is it defined by the status you feel that you acquire by owning and displaying material items?  Each of us finds our oasis of enjoyment in life uniquely, and the owner of a $450,000 sports car or a $3,000,000 painting is no less entitled to enjoy life his way as you are to choose a more focused yet Spartan way of living.  The labels attached to materialism or minimalism do not define you or your priorities.  You define, by the route you choose.  A minimalist simply chooses to cozy up to fewer possessions, and more moments.  Yet, even each minimalist is uniquely different from the next, regardless of the label attached.

Of All The Most Important Things in Life, The Most Important Is Commitment To Others

Ask ten people what they consider to be the most important thing in life, and you may well generate ten different concepts of essentials.  However, explore those ten answers in more depth, revise the scenario to include the possibility of being isolated from human contact, and the critical concern that those respondents will come up with is that a specific person would be the most essential element to be included in that existence. 

Human beings are, like many beasts of the wild, wired to need social contact.  For some, that contact may be minimal, but all of us need interaction.  Does that mean that we view others as vital, or are we so completely narcissistic that we view fellow man as nothing more than a need to make our life complete? 

Regardless of why we need people with whom to interact, the stimulation that man provides for man completes a significant component of how we view ourselves. As far back as 1943, psychologist Abraham Maslow postulated that the need for belonging, love, friendship and human interaction neared the base of his hierarchy of needs, just above the need for safety.

The male of the species has been bound, it seems, to man’s best friend – the dog.  While our connection to this four-legged friend undoubtedly offers something psychologically satisfying to humans, it lacks the completeness of human to human involvement.  The connection fulfills, on the surface, the need to have someone, or something else, understand us.

Gang membership, and, in turn, gang initiation, draws on the desire to belong, and to be involved in something that sees us, individually, as something special. While, superficially, gang members appear to lose that individuality, they do view themselves, in fact, as disparate and unique from the rest of the world, or the rest of the neighbourhood.

There may be precious little difference between the desire to be a gang member and the desire to belong to an elite club, or a segment of society that has riches to flaunt.  Both say to the initiate, pledge or member, “You are part of something special and unique, and therefore, you, too, are unique.”

The idea of looking to be a part of something that someone else cannot be a part of is coloured with liberal dollops of narcissistic personality.  Yet, is it wrong?  And how is it different, for example, from seeking to find that special aspect or part of our lives that fulfills us? 

I have chosen a minimalistic way of life.  Does eschewing material acquisition make be the antithesis of narcissistic?  Hardly.  I choose this lifestyle specifically because I feel that I want to focus, not on frills, but on fewer, but more significant benefits and luxuries in my life.  To simply forfeit things for the sake of forfeit gains neither the minimalist or society at large anything.  It is akin to being a lowly carrion-eater, and choosing to ignore the carrion that it finds, in case someone else might come upon it and want it.

When I began my journey toward voluntary simplicity, and opted to focus on fewer, but more significant things in my life, I had not contemplated the philosophical dilemma of choosing specifically what the most important thing in my life would be.  I had a concept of things and experiences that would be more significant to me than others, but had not established an absolute priority.  That changed, dramatically, this week.

On Tuesday, my wife awoke, drenched in sweat, breathing shallowly, experiencing numbness on her right side, and thoroughly nauseated.  Within seconds, I had her in the car, heading toward the hospital.  Driving as quickly as I could from our isolated home toward the local hospital, I called 911, and was escorted through  the protocols as I rushed to intercept the dispatched ambulance.  When I determined that I could make it closer to the hospital, rather than park on the highway and await the emergency vehicle, I became quite belligerent with the dispatcher who wanted me to be in an identifiable location for the EMS drivers.  My anger increased as the seconds passed, and my wife’s symptoms worsened.

Ultimately, the ambulance arrived, my wife was rushed to another hospital thirty miles distant (where better diagnostics could be conducted), and her impending critical incident was averted.  I am very pleased to say that, while she was close to a severe crisis, she has recovered fully, thanks to the speedy response of the EMS team and the skills and dedication of the hospital staff.

However, what I learned was that all of the important things that I had casually itemized in recent years truly were minimal in relation to the one important thing in my life: the valued relationship and love affair that I have with Janice.  I learned many valuable lessons, but the most vital lesson learned is that the most important thing in everyone’s life should not be a thing at all, but a feeling:  the feeling that you have for someone important in your life.  For many of us, that someone may not even be human, but a pet or animal pal.  The most important “non-thing,” even for us minimalists, should be a feeling that has its basis in narcissism, but ultimately ends in completely submerging our own wants and desires in favour of the needs of another.  Call it love, or call it selflessness.  Call it what you want.  The most important thing in life is to place all things behind the commitment to another living being.

Free Renewable Energy Not Always So Free

Being eco-friendly may be admirable, but it comes with a price, and it is not always as crystal-clear as one believes.

We rely heavily on non-grid energy, including wind and solar power.  However, renewal energy sources such as ours require energy storage, and, specifically, battery storage.  While there are advanced battery technologies on the market (e.g. batteries for hybrid vehicles), as well as large wet-cell storage batteries (such as those in forklifts and indoor industrial cleaning equipment), the most prevalent, and therefore, the lowest-priced units are conventional deep-cycle marine 12-volt batteries.  These typically cost from $80 to $200, with only modest storage and cranking amperage.

The primary advantage of marine batteries over vehicle batteries is their capacity to be discharged to low levels and recharged often.  However, “often” is subjective, with most of the commercially available units being rated for a few hundred charging cycles, at most.  These batteries also do not like to be frozen, but really detest excessive heat.

In order to supply minimal energy, such as the energy to light two compact fluorescent bulbs four hours each day and a small bar refrigerator (drawing 90 watts, with a surge of 800 watts), you will consume 2,280 (2.3 kw) watts each day.  Now consider that a small solar panel produces 13-18 watts (some of the single panel retail units produce 30w) under optimal conditions.  In northern latitudes, hours of summer daylight average 15 hours, but typically generate only about 60% of that in sunlight sufficient to “max out” the solar panel.  With three panels, you will produce 405 watts – less than 20% of what you need.  A small wind turbine may produce 40% of what you need, if you live in an environment where the wind is very frequent, and of sufficient strength to power the turbine. Typically, the marine batteries attached to your collectors are rated for 800-1000 CCA.  Obviously, unless you expand your generation and/or storage network, you will need to use a charging system on the batteries.

Because each of the batteries is being discharged the equivalent of 100%every eight hours, you will require a battery array of at least three batteries, just to produce your daily minimum energy requirement.  Ultimately, most of us will require electricity for television or sound equipment, charging cell phones and laptops, power for small fans, and so on. With minimal energy, though, your three-battery array will be fully discharged and recharged 100 times from June to September.  That is the normal lifespan of the battery!

This year, we experienced near-record heat and sunlight throughout our summer.  While that is great for our solar panels, heat is more damaging to the batteries than cold, and reduces their ability to be recharged (and hold a charge) significantly.

We used an eight-battery package.  However, almost weekly, we needed to refill the cells, as the electrolytic acid evaporated.  The sunlight did its damage, too, destroying one battery.  Of the eight, only one battery now holds a significant charge, even though I de-sulphated the batteries regularly.  Five of the batteries were three years old or less, with the other three being four years old.  Seven batteries will need to be replaced.

At a cost of $90 per battery, our outlay will be $630, plus taxes.  We used nearly $100 of generator fuel to supplement our renewable energy supply.  In four months, our lighting costs will be $700-800, factoring in the wear and tear on equipment.

Now, we have batteries that need to be recycled and spent fuel that polluted the air.  If we had relied on our hydro-electric grid for energy, at a cost of $0.08 per kwh, we would have spent less than $130!  Did we really do the environment and our pocketbook a favour?

Frugal Use of Water Can Reduce The Drain On Our Environment

As water becomes the future gold, creative ways in which to conserve and utilize water effectively need to be employed. While, In Canada, there is an abundant supply of fresh water, that resource is not limitless, and our neighbours to the south will soon be in need of that liquid commodity. As climate change impacts the world, we already are seeing periods of flood followed by periods of severe drought, like that witnessed across central North America in the summer of 2011.
The responsibility for conservation and efficient use of water is more than the responsibility of government and big business: it is the duty of each of us, as consumers.
While my wife and I have adopted a minimalist strategy toward the use of the earth’s resources, we, too, are not excused from using this precious water frugally. We have, however, minimized our consumption to less than 150-225 litres of water per week (7,800 litres per year). That’s almost 2,000 cubic feet of water, or 1,000 cubic feet per person. Compared to the North American average of over 5 times that amount per individual (not including industry), we should be proud of our ecological stewardship. However, we found that, while we have had difficulty in using less, we have been able to recycle and reuse more. In the summer, our grey water, from our shower, kitchen sink and bathroom sink is routed into a 230-litre holding tank, and then used, each week, to water our gardens. In the early spring and late fall, we use some of that water in a sprayer system to “flush” our toilet, using less than two cups per flush.
A channel dug around the perimeter of our yurt redirects rainfall into a small dugout pond, where it, too, can be used for the gardens.
With water consumption for our vegetable cooking, we, again, have discovered ways to minimize, by using minimal water for boiling potatoes, then using that water to steam or cook our vegetables. That enriched water, in turn, is used to make soups and stews, and excess potato water is used to make bread. For the few times that we boil eggs, the water is mixed with other water (sometimes rainwater), for washing dishes.
One of the concerns that people have expressed is that we may be transferring bacteria and water-borne disease by reusing some of our water in dish cleaning, and, again, on the gardens. However, the eggs are hard shelled, and harbour no bacteria that is resistant to the dish soap. On the other hand, because our grey water sits in the holding tank for up to seven days, there is a risk of bacteria build-up. Consequently, we make sure that we water our plants only at the base or roots, so that there is a minimal risk of contamination.
Other factors also come into play. The odour from stale water is not pleasant, but, within an hour after watering any residual odour has dissipated. If you add glycol (RV antifreeze) to the tanks in the winter, this water should not be used on the plants, as glycol is extremely hazardous to human health. On the other hand, if you have used less than 5% antifreeze per tank, that liquid can safely be applied to the roots of larger trees.
One final tip: when installing our grey water holding tank, we constructed it so that the tank was below the level of the shower and sink drains, but above grade, so that we could siphon, easily, the water from the tank, relying on the benefit of gravity to move the water.
Perhaps, in the near future, we will be able to purify the water, recycle it for human use (washing, etc.) and then apply it to the garden. That will cut our consumption in half. However, using only the minimal amount required does offer a measure of environmental responsibility that should make any of us employing these measures confident that we are doing our part to protect the environment.

Minimal Living Provides Opportunity To Spread Wealth

If minimalism or voluntary simplicity is about living with less, then the obvious corollary to the concept of minimal living is that such a frugal lifestyle will open up a surfeit of resources for other uses. I have discussed in many of my other articles that my minimalistic focus is toward enjoying the newly filtered aspects of life more thoroughly by de-cluttering my environment.
However, I have no desire to relinquish the pleasure that I gain from productive work. Thus, while I free up time to enjoy more targeted pleasures by eliminating redundancies and excesses, I also free up money.
Therein is one of the real bonuses of simple living: the ability to use surplus income for purposes that I find worthy; namely, a variety of charitable causes.
For instance, I have revived a cooperative housing project initiative that will enable those people who may not be able, otherwise, to afford home ownership, to engage in a strategy to purchase their individual homes through a group buying initiative. With my surplus free time and, fortunately, surplus income due to my frugal living approach, I am able to give back in areas of my own choosing.
Perhaps many aspiring minimalists are undertaking this new lifestyle because of budget constraints, or environmental concerns, or simply because of social conscience. Regardless, the new freedom that one discovers as priorities are rearranged to suit the minimalistic approach allow for more freedom to be charitable. It is often an unexpected frill that flowers from one’s new lifestyle.
Psychologists almost universally agree that a great contributor to unhealthy stress is the lack of choice. By freeing resources, by being less reliant on material success or need, a person is afforded a greater freedom to choose what is important individually. It is true, however, that when a person chooses to “ cut to the bone” on luxuries, and cuts the reserves that provide a “soft cushion” in times of financial hardship, a degree of stress results. The stress of facing a short-term bout of belt tightening on a frugal budget is far from the stress, though, than the stress of financial crisis when one is burdened with enormous monthly expenses. By trimming overhead, you open the door for more choices.
It is ironic that the greatest contributors to charities, per dollar earned, and the greatest number of volunteer hours committed are given by those people who live in more modest communities, states or provinces, and that those most likely to give in a crisis are those that have experienced a crisis of their own.
By entering the world of modest living through voluntary simplicity, a person almost automatically is drawn toward charity, volunteerism and community service, and, in turn, reaps the enormous benefit of reaching out to others.
As you contemplate your foray into minimal living, you may want to set out a template, or set of objectives, and include in that template the anticipated or sought-after benefits (as well as drawbacks). Work into your new budget an allowance for both time and money given to those in need, and establish that allowance as a priority. Simply by laying out, concretely and publicly, your intention to use your newly discovered freedom to benefit others, you will discover that your focus on what is significant in life alters dramatically. Again, it is an established psychological principle that, when a person publicly commits, even in a modest way, to a position or goal, he more adamantly defends and works toward that position in the future. Think, for example, of Weight Watchers or AAA meetings, where a public statement of commitment is used to drive dedication to an objective.
Consider that, as you gain freedom from stress and financial or material dependence for yourself, you also are opening the door for a more altruistic you. Go minimal, but give it your maximum effort!

Living With Less Does Not Always Mean Doing It Yourself

One of the problems inherent in “going minimal” is the tendency to radicalize. That is, some of us assume that minimalism requires that we not only do without every luxury and most essentials, but that we involve others at a minimal level in every purchase. We often suppose that doing with less means doing it yourself.
Need an oil change? It must be a minimalistic approach to do it yourself. Want a special meal, such as a lasagne? One has to obtain the ingredients and make it oneself. Of course, a true minimalist must do her own vehicle repairs, make his own clothes, grow every food item and complete every repair or household renovation alone.
These are just a few of the myths of minimal living.
Let us take a quick look, for example, at that lasagne dinner. Typically, a 2-pound store-bought, ready-made lasagne will cost you $5.99 to $9.99. Your total cost, including cooking in the oven for 45 to 60 minutes, will be $6.11 to $10.11, or $3.05 to $5.06 per pound. However, calculate the individual costs of buying the ingredients. Cheese, lean ground beef, spinach, spices and noodles will end up costing you at least $6.80 per pound if you buy the size required to make a 2-pound lasagne. Cooking will take two hours, for an additional cost of $0.22, while cleanup of the baking pan and utensils will add another $0.30-.40 to the total. This doesn’t factor in the cost of the pan & utensils, or place a value on the two hours that it may take to make the meal. Total savings, per pound, of buying the ready-made meal will be up to $4.37! Hardly worth the effort, is it, unless you prefer the quality and uniqueness of a homemade meal?
How about that oil change? With a litre of oil costing, on average, $4.19 and a filter $6-12, a four-litre oil change will cost $23.76, versus the $29.95 for a shop to do it. Yet, you don’t have to worry about the cleanup and environmental impact, or the cost of oil drain pans, jack stands, etc. It’s almost a fair trade to farm out the task.
Don’t even consider doing your own repairs on a new car. Just the OBII-compliant computer tester will set you back $100 or more, and you haven’t begun to figure out how to do the repairs, with the few outdated tools that you own. Each new car demands its own specialty tools to conduct repairs. However, buying the new car is more environmentally friendly, and generally more cost-efficient than maintaining the old one.
A true minimalist may want to mend his own clothes, make his own curtains, upholster his own furniture. Aside from the grotesquely ugly results that are likely, this option, too, is impractical, even for a minimalist. However, if you find someone who is handy with a sewing machine or needle and thread, and you have the cash, consider providing the material, while your partner provides the handiwork and skill necessary to make clothes, drapes or couch covers.
Similarly, home renovation skills are seldom within the reach of the typical homeowner. You may be great at rough carpentry, but lousy at finishing work. You may know the basics of plumbing, and fail miserably at electrical repair. Here is where a collage of colleagues, with compatible and exchangeable skills provides a real advantage. You may undertake the framing (or supervision) of a garage for a neighbour, while another provides skills at concrete work and a third can wire the building. When you need your recreation room renovated, those same people can pool their skills to assist you, and so on.
Have a large back yard? Grow your vegetables, and a few for your neighbours, in exchange for a few trinkets that you require from them.
The last three examples are perfect illustrations of the benefit of bartering for the frugal individual, or those who favour the minimal living approach. Bartering, or swapping services and goods not only lessens demand for duplicate items or redundant services, but reduces the cost to each individual in the barter group. Barter groups may be loosely arranged, or established as a cooperative, with specific assigned values for work and goods that are exchanged, with a “banking” option that allows a member to provide his goods into the pool, and obtain the benefit that he wants or needs at a later time.
Minimalism is not about doing it yourself. It is about seeking the path that is least intrusive, with the greatest benefit, to obtain those needed items, while recognizing that “need” and “want” are not synonymous, and that using less is a pathway to getting more out of your life, each day.