When I was 39 (17 years ago) I met frugality. Back then, it arrived cloaked as minimalism. I took stock of my belongings and began to see that they were just that - belongings. Things that were of interest to me but not likely anyone else.
At that time in my life I had a basement room designated for storage. You know the kind with ample shelves full of neatly organized labeled totes containing all sorts of things I thought I would one day want or need. I had one tote full of childhood memorabilia - a newspaper clipping of the time in second grade when I won the holiday drawing contest, ribbons and awards for this and that, yearbooks, letters from long lost friends and random objects that once meant something to me. These trinkets might be curiosities for someone in the future, but not really worth lugging around for the rest of mine. I decided to throw them away. It felt bold, I worried about regret, yet somehow was compelled to dispose of these things taking up space. I emptied the tub into the garbage can and wheeled it to the street.
In that moment something took hold...a sense of freedom is how I describe it. I began to go through every square inch of my home looking for frivolous and unused items. Every day I put items on the curb that someone else might want. After letting go of such personal memorabilia, getting rid of household things was easy. I could clearly see every item in my home as either having value or just taking up space. Box after box went to the curb, trash can or thrift store until I had gone through every last item I owned. Everything that remained in the house had a place and a purpose.
Fast forward to the present and I still practice minimalism. Every so often when I feel overwhelmed with accumulation and visual noise, I start cleaning and clearing. In the last few days I took on my basement, and in this most recent clean out, I noticed something different. I not only recognized objects as unused or no longer wanted, but I also saw the tragedy of items purchased in the first place. I was experiencing buyer's remorse years later! A gorgeous buffet-worthy chafing pan, used only once for a party long ago, caused me to recall years of carloads of stuff carried in and put away after a day of shopping. It made me remember some of the items I just had to have and then barely used. In the past, I don't think I ever looked at my belongings with regret for ever having acquired them in the first place. I recognized that I had simply accepted the societal norm of buying items one day and getting tired of them soon after.
Consumption is justified in our society. Look at how big our trash cans are! We don't typically think much about the cost of acquired objects in our lives in the far off future. "Just throw it away. Just recycle it. Just take it to the thrift store" are easy responses to things we own then decide we no longer want or need. When we buy items, how often do we hear people say, "It was ONLY ____ dollars!" as justification for why an item made its way into the home. In my new sense of minimalism and frugality, I now see those objects as money down the drain and as an enormous environmental impact. Moreover, as I approach retirement age, I understand that dollars spent along the way might have found their way into compounding interest instead of garbage or unwanted nothing. It's a shame to think back and recognize how I let my personal wealth so easily slip away with small and random purchases over the years.
What has unlocked this new way of seeing consumption? Is it because of farm life, the fact that I no longer travel in the mirrored reflections of mainstream culture and society? Or is this what happens to all of us as we age and begin to see what really matters in life? I know there have been a few contributing factors to my metamorphosis into minimalism and ultimately frugality.
I see now how when I had a paycheck job and money coming into the household regularly, it was easy to spend. I knew there would be more in my bank account in the next few days or weeks. In the city, saving seemed boring when the excitement of spending was constantly in my face. Stores flashed the new great thing, elegantly dressed people on the street caused me to want what they had, there were new restaurants to be tested, shows to see, and money to be spent on every corner.
On the farm there is very little inspiration to spend. Away from stores and immersed in natural beauty makes going out into busy cities and stores a thing of drudgery. Additionally, where there is no regular paycheck, the pull to spend diminishes. If I truly need something, I find I look for work-arounds or ways to avoid the purchase altogether. Every dollar becomes a treasure. Every purchase analyzed and contemplated to determine its absolute value. I have found since moving away from teaching and into self-employment through the farm, my list of wants has decreased to almost nothing. Of course, I understand that this is because I am at the point in my life where I've worked and accumulated what I need. I suspect it is also true that for many of us as we age, wanting decreases dramatically and naturally. But, it is clear to me, the longer I live out here in the country, the less inclined I am to want to spend my money foolishly.
Farm frugality has also helped me to understand that most stressors and anxieties of the past were connected to want. In my past life I wanted the house, the car, the wardrobe, the vacations, but now that I'm here and out of that world, I want for very little. And, what's most interesting about this new understanding is to see that wants are not only physical or experiential but also related to time, interactions and social life as well. Since entering this new mental state of frugality, I am most comfortable at home and away from the societal reflection and push to consumerism. It makes me uncomfortable to be exposed to that culture. Ask William how much I enjoy shopping! Not at all. I find it completely unnerving to face consumerism in all its forms and the societal expectations that say it's normal.
I like my simple quiet life. I don't need to go and do, I don't need to be entertained, I don't need to travel, I don't need to shop...I wonder if this sense of frugality isn't actually me achieving self-actualization? Who knows, but I can tell you, frugality (and from that true wealth) comes easily when you can let go of the wants.
If I were to make a prediction about society over the next 50 years, I believe that frugality will be the next great adventure.
However, there is one WANT question that I think is a good one to keep: "What do you want for lunch?"
William got to clown for a family photo on my mom's birthday last week! He keeps us all laughing.
The Farm Store is chocked full of pepper goodness - new taco sauces (a yellow sweet spicy is my new favorite), Cowboy Candy, and Move Over Crushed Red is back! Don't forget to grab a bag of sunflower seeds for your bird feeders.
Sending love from the farm,
Sarah
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