In case you’re interested, I’m selling just about everything I own. With a borrowed internal frame pack from my beautiful roommate, I now know how much room I have for my outdoor gear, clothing, computer, etc. Now that the weather’s nice, I’ll be sleeping outside a bit, too. If you need a desk, dresser, armchair, or just about any article of clothing, let me know!
I’ve heard so many times to not romanticize poverty, and I don’t think I am.
I’m just really excited about having less.
Most people don’t even know where half their possessions are anyway; ask anyone who has recently moved. But to give things up is a serious challenge in generosity, a true test to how materialistic I really am. A friend of mine recently said,
I think a lot of people will tell you they have too much stuff, and most of them well probably even want to get rid of some it. But to be excited about doing that? That takes Jesus.
There are a few crazies who are really into this “simplifying” trend, but that’s not what I’m really going for. I don’t think I could do the micro-studio thing though. I did it in France, and it was depressing. Check my Facebook videos if you don’t believe that my shower could’ve fit in an airplane bathroom.
I’m talking about having less for the sake of community. I’m talking about bold interdependence.
I just read in “Irresistible Revolution” something comparing how many
homeless people are in major cities to how many empty guest rooms are
in homes in those same cities. And I figured that people with guest rooms wouldn’t just invite any hobo into their home because they’d be afraid he’d steal their stuff. So… if you had a big enough house to invite people in, and not enough stuff worth stealing, problem solved.
homeless people are in major cities to how many empty guest rooms are
in homes in those same cities. And I figured that people with guest rooms wouldn’t just invite any hobo into their home because they’d be afraid he’d steal their stuff. So… if you had a big enough house to invite people in, and not enough stuff worth stealing, problem solved.
The suburbs can be such the antithesis of community. Everyone has their own storehouse of abundance shut behind an automatic garage door. Everyone drives to their jobs, their churches, their grocery stores. There’s no real place to “happen upon” your neighbors. No town square, no place of gathering. I’ve heard rare stories of all but one family in a cul-de-sac selling their washing machines and dryers. The women then went back to the village-style laundry time, working together and splitting utility costs. How simple and brilliant.
My dad has told me before about growing up in Terre Town, and knowing his neighbors because they shared vegetable gardens.
I love stories like that. It’s why I study Anthropology: I’m addicted to community. REAL community, the kind of simplicity that comes when you share your stuff, know and love your neighbors, and acknowledge that you really cannot do anything on your own. You don’t have to sell all your stuff, just hold onto it loosely, and dare to be generous.
That’s just one thing I want to scream across the suburbs:
Let go of your stuff and hold on to people.
-Katie
