The practice of minimalism varies from person to person, but I think there's a natural way of doing it that breathes in and breathes out without getting clagged up with stuff.
In my teenage years our family lived in a medieval house with a massive garden that had a river running through it. Every now and then that had to be dredged because silt accumulated. The silt could be put on the banks to feed the earth of the surrounding land — it wasn't wasted, just had to be moved from the wrong place where it was stopping the flow, to the right place where it could nutrify the earth. I think it's the same with physical items in our lives; facilitating a flow is helpful, both to the person who receives the item and to the person who passes it on.
We had an example of this in our household this last weekend. Our separate lives within one house, and the need for quietness and not disturbing others at night, and ecological imperatives combined with the need of our plants in the garden to be fed, all put together point in the direction of people having some kind of receptacles to collect pee at night. It feeds the garden and reduces night-time household traffic and sound. Experimenting with this over time led to an accumulation of bucket toilets, of which we then had two spare. One option would have been to stow them away in the attic, "just in case", but why? Instead, we put them on Freegle. And along came a woman with an influx of guests over the bank holiday weekend. They would come, they would go, they were planning a picnic in a field — and she needed some kind of temporary toilets for them. So she picked up ours to use for her guests — and when they go she will Freegle them on. No doubt someone who plans to go camping over the summer will be glad to have them.
I love the way the grace/gift economy allows the flow while slowing down the mass production damaging the Earth. You just pass on what you don't need at the moment, and pick up what you do. Either free from Freegle or Freecycle or your friends/family, or cheap and secondhand from eBay or a charity shop; use it while you need it then pass it on.
A few years ago when my granddaughter was little, we needed a high chair for her to join in with Christmas lunch at a family gathering. I got one for very little money at a charity shop just along the road. So that benefited the charity as well as me, and used what was already in the world instead of stimulating more factory products. After that Christmas we didn't need it any more, but our pastor's family was coming over from America to stay for a few weeks, including a little girl who would need a high chair. So we gave it to her. When her family returned to America she no longer needed it; so she took it back to the charity shop, who sold it on again and made some more money for the charity.
The same object can benefit numerous people and repeatedly make money for charity, mass-production is slowed, life is less expensive, everyone gets a chance to try something out or have something new — all we have to do is not let stuff accumulate.
It's the kind of minimalism that lets you try out the pink-sequinned cowboy hat and the jazzy kaftan, and just pass it along when the mood has gone. It doesn't have to be all identical black t-shirts and jeans. You just allow the flow, and don't get possessive. Things come, they go.
In my upbringing there was a massive pride in keeping things for ever until they wore out and even then thinking of some purpose for them — "Ooh, don't throw that margarine/ice-cream tub away! That's useful!" The person who could live on almost nothing and ask the least of life and make things go round and exhibit Olympic gold medal lives of frugality was greatly admired. But why? Why not enjoy what you can afford — which will be a lot more if we all let things flow in the gift/grace economy, and share.
Today, the things I'm selecting for moving on are a sleeping bag, which has gone to someone who has an overnight camping hen party coming up this summer —
— and a laundry/log bin.
That was really disappointing. Its structure was shaped by integral metal struts. We had it for a while, and when we no longer needed it (having somehow accumulated rather a lot of baskets) I put it out where our path meets the road with a note for anyone to take it who wants it. This usually works well. But in this case someone (kids?) took it, carried it a few yards down the road, kicked it and bashed it and bent the metal struts all out of shape, and left it there. So it was no longer fit for anything and had to be taken to the dump. That's how not to re-use stuff.
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