Grace economy

So having carefully thought through the challenge of moneyless living, I decided it wasn’t for me (see previous post).

Even so, I wanted to live as small and humble and simple as I possibly could. That was how Jesus lived, and how St Francis lived. I love the freedom of it, and the space it leaves to think clearly and make decisions slowly. I dislike the tendency to approximation and sloppiness that come from too much rush and tear, from busyness and haste. I like the quietness and peace of empty space, unfilled by ornaments or utensils. I like what Japanese call Ma – the space between things that allows each thing really to be seen. I value time, not to fill with chores and commitments, but to sit still and really see – the bees visiting vetch flowers in the grass, the squirrel on the fence and the wren coming for crumbs of cheese the crow left behind, the fox and the badger at nightfall, the setting sun and the stars coming out.

To make this life possible I aspire to own as little as possible – just a few clothes and a small shelf of other odds and ends, my bedding, one or two cooking pots, a mug and plate and bowl, a spork and a knife. The essentials. I do still perhaps have more clothes than I need, but they are simple and interchangeable, practical and hardwearing, quiet and not eye-catching; simple and plain. I thought through the whole issue of observant dress (like Plain Dress or the robes of a monastic) and concluded that such garb was, at the roots of its beginnings, the unassuming clothing of humble working people – decent, modest, ordinary. So that’s what I wear. I try for black or dark grey because it takes you from everyday to formal more realistically, and shows stains the least.

So much for things. As to money and ownership, I have three sources of income: writing, a tiny pension left by my previous husband, and a cottage I let, that I bought from money my mother gave me and my father left me. I maintain the cottage to a high standard and let it at a rent the low side of fair, so it returns only a very modest net income. Most years I earn just around the tax threshold. This year will be less because I wrote no new books – so no royalty advances!

I spend my money, just over a quarter on my contribution to the expenses of our household – five adults sharing; a quarter on the shared food bill for the Badger and me, and helping an unwaged family member; a quarter on bills for my rental cottage; just under a quarter on savings and disposable income.

My disposable income goes on things like books for my Kindle, stamps, essential oils (instead of deodorant, and for scenting bathwater) and other toiletries (face and body moisturisers made by my family, and shampoo), eating out, transport, occasional purchases, and gifts to charities (Friends Of The Earth, Stop The War Coalition, the wonderful Methodist relief and development fund All We Can, the food bank, and various organisations helping refugees or people who are desperately poor.

Right now, the Badger is away in America, so I am living in Komorebi while he’s gone, but when he’s home I like to be near to him so I live mostly in his attic with him. I like to be near my household too, so I hang out with them and eat with them much of the time too. All of us work from home at least some of the time – just now our Alice is making some huge stained glass windows for the hospice in our town.

The last paragraph was not about money but gives an idea of how we live. In our garden we grow herbs and trees mostly – we have several fruit trees, still young but already producing well; so it makes a beautiful space, welcoming to birds and insects, toads and wild animals, but also grows food for us to eat. We have huge barrels for catching rainwater (about 750 litres worth in total) from the roof, and we catch sun in our solar arrays to heat the water and supply electricity for our house. Much of our winter heating comes from the woodstove and the open fire. The main fuel is either logs from old or diseased trees needing to be felled, or from what they call ‘heat logs’, compressed from sawdust floor-sweepings generated by the timber industry. And our kindling is a mixture of dead (ready to use) twigs tossed down to us in the storms by the beautiful and beloved old ash trees at the foot of the garden, and fir/pine cones that we collect when we’re out for a walk at this time of the year.

I believe in that thing I best like described as the ‘grace economy’, though some people call it the ‘gift economy’ – where people are just given what they need because they need it, no strings attached. Though (for the reasons given in the previous post) I decided being moneyless doesn’t really work in the modern Western world, I am opposed to the reign of Mammon – growth economics will destroy the Earth; we urgently need to transition to sustainable economics. Consumer lifestyle, mass production, and the proliferation of manmade objects are bad news (and therefore the antithesis of the Gospel). So in the gradual dispensing of all I own, and the radical minimalizing of our household possessions, we haven’t sold things (even beautiful, valuable, desirable things) but given them away. We try to make sure everything we donate is given responsibly. Odds and ends are collated appropriately into craft bundles or altar kits; furniture and household items are given to friends starting out afresh or on low incomes; clothes and ornaments for the most part go to raise money for charity (charity shops/ Goodwill); unused (unwanted) art supplies go to students or other artists working in that field; old bedding not fit to donate is welcomed by the dog warden so strays have something comfy to lie on, not just a concrete pen floor. Broken or damaged wooden items are good for firewood, or else the Badger remakes them into beautiful furniture.

Then, when it comes to purchases, I try to source clothes and household items secondhand – from charity shops or eBay. And we ask around our family before purchasing. For instance, our duvet covers (me and the Badger) gave up the ghost – but our Rosie had a couple of spare sets that she kindly gave us.

We do have a car (bought secondhand), but it is very economical, and is the only car for our household of five adults, my married daughter’s household, and my elderly mother.

In my experiments with the grace economy, I’ve tried to minimize what I do for money. At one time I might have claimed expenses for preaching and conducting retreats and quiet days (travel and resources costs), and I used to be paid fees for that work, too. But now I don’t. I still work for money – my rule of thumb is that if the only link the person hiring me has with me is money, then I charge a fee; but if their life and mine belong to each other, then I don’t. 

None of this is very remarkable or innovative, for sure – but the life we get at the end of it is wonderful, and it allows us to walk relatively lightly on the earth.