Well it's Janaury 31st, and Jonathan and I have made it through one month without bringing any new stuff into our home. I'm surprised both by how easy it has been to not buy new things, and by how much I have learned about myself already in the process. Though it hasn't been too hard to hold back, there has still been lots of unexpected awareness handed to us during the Stand-off.
All things considered though, the universe has been kind of easy on us this month. For example this weekend we had two empty days with nothing planned when we normally could have taken on any number of projects or shopping endeavors with our time off. But instead of even being tempted to do so, we were snowed in (in North Carolina!). I'm not sure if we could get our car out of the driveway if we tried. Instead we spent three glorious days (because even church was canceled)reading books, sorting through old papers that have long needed attention, watching movies, and playing trivial pursuit. It has been wonderful.
The other thing to consider is that November and December were very busy months for us when we did a lot of traveling, shopping, spending and home improvement. In many ways it has been easy for us to resist all of those things in January because we are still exhausted and trying to recover. I expect that in another month or two, when the sun comes out and the credit card balance returns to normal, we'll have renewed energy for these activities. I will be curious to see what happens then. Will we tire of playing Trivial Pursuit? Perhaps.
For today, I'm still pretty excited about the Stand-off, and Jonathan and I are enjoying the journey. But on a serious note, I'm extremely grateful that we are in a place in our lives where we can take on a challenge just for the fun of it. In the midst of our cozy snow day yesterday we learned that two students at our Episcopal School lost their dad last week when he was killed in Afghanistan. All day yesterday and now today, when I've been happily hunkered down in my sweatpants, waves of sadness have washed over me while I think of this family and the tragedy they have just experienced. I am always humbled when I hear this kind of news and can place my own problems in their true perspective. It suddenly makes a Stuff Stand-off seem futile and silly. But we can't stop living our lives in the midst of death. We can certainly, however, stop and offer up our gratitude for what we have. So I'll sign off on January with many prayers for a heartbroken family, with renewed perspective about what really matters, and with deep gratitude for my life just as it is right now. I am extremely blessed.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Let's rip up the deck!
It happened innocently enough. I was having a good day that suddenly turned worse when I had a conversation with someone that just put me in a sour mood. Frustrated and wanting some time off before coming back to work for a meeting, I went home and immediately changed into sweatpants to curl up in bed for a quick nap before Jonathan got home.
While I was changing, I looked out the bedroom windows, as I often do, to admire our beautiful backyard. Studying it a little more closely, I decided that a year was long enough to go without raking, and perhaps Jonathan and I could spend some of our day off on Saturday doing just that.
Then, as casually as that I thought:
"And while we're at it, we should rip up the ground level deck and see how much of that wood can be used again when we finally do the upper level deck we've been talking about doing. We could clear away that part of the yard, and have a sense of what it will look like with the new design."
After that I was even a little proud of myself, thinking about how environmentally savvy my new plan was and how much money we'd save using the wood that was already there instead of using new wood. All we'd have to buy now (in 2011 of course) would be some posts and cement and hardware. It would be great!
Jonathan came home after my nap and I informed him of my plan and lamented about my day (though maybe not in that order). He was telling me about his day when all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks.
"Oh my goodness!" I interrupted, "I can't believe I'm that obvious!"
I'm ashamed to admit it, but I am totally predictable. I have a bad day and I want to rip up something in the house. Jonathan and I can convince ourselves all we want that we're improving the value of our home, but as I painfully discovered the other day it is about far more than that. My deck is something I can control, when I can't necessarily control a conversation at work. I can work on a project on the deck so intensely that I won't need to eat, or sleep, or feel. I'll be so engrossed, and so satisfied with the final outcome, that there will be no room in my head for anything difficult that may have happened in the week before. Ripping up the deck would (temporarily) solve all of my problems.
I can't say for sure if I would have noticed this connection prior to the Stuff Stand-off. I had to pause because I knew that we couldn't buy anything at Lowes, and so whatever we accomplished would only be the breaking down part of things and not the building up. And what would I do? Keep a pile of deck wood sitting around in the backyard for ELEVEN MONTHS until we were finally able to rebuild? And then what - magically in the cold of January we'd want to finish up an outdoor project? I wasn't even trying to see through the end of my home improvement fantasy. I wanted only the instant gratification of change I could control.
It was the pause I think that helped me to realize what a direct correlation my bad day had to my desire to tear up something new. I was quickly hanging my head and laughing at myself, totally pegged with no one to blame. I think I'm so hard to figure out sometimes, but it seems that I just need to take a breath long enough to really see what I'm up to.
I'm not sure what we'll be doing this weekend. We might be snowed in (which would have made for a really great day ripping up the deck!). We might read books. We might watch movies. We might have to reflect a little bit on the week at work, and work through those things that were hard for us. But there will be NO home improvement projects happening at this address this weekend. No matter how hard I might try to convince myself it's a good idea...
While I was changing, I looked out the bedroom windows, as I often do, to admire our beautiful backyard. Studying it a little more closely, I decided that a year was long enough to go without raking, and perhaps Jonathan and I could spend some of our day off on Saturday doing just that.
Then, as casually as that I thought:
"And while we're at it, we should rip up the ground level deck and see how much of that wood can be used again when we finally do the upper level deck we've been talking about doing. We could clear away that part of the yard, and have a sense of what it will look like with the new design."
After that I was even a little proud of myself, thinking about how environmentally savvy my new plan was and how much money we'd save using the wood that was already there instead of using new wood. All we'd have to buy now (in 2011 of course) would be some posts and cement and hardware. It would be great!
Jonathan came home after my nap and I informed him of my plan and lamented about my day (though maybe not in that order). He was telling me about his day when all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks.
"Oh my goodness!" I interrupted, "I can't believe I'm that obvious!"
I'm ashamed to admit it, but I am totally predictable. I have a bad day and I want to rip up something in the house. Jonathan and I can convince ourselves all we want that we're improving the value of our home, but as I painfully discovered the other day it is about far more than that. My deck is something I can control, when I can't necessarily control a conversation at work. I can work on a project on the deck so intensely that I won't need to eat, or sleep, or feel. I'll be so engrossed, and so satisfied with the final outcome, that there will be no room in my head for anything difficult that may have happened in the week before. Ripping up the deck would (temporarily) solve all of my problems.
I can't say for sure if I would have noticed this connection prior to the Stuff Stand-off. I had to pause because I knew that we couldn't buy anything at Lowes, and so whatever we accomplished would only be the breaking down part of things and not the building up. And what would I do? Keep a pile of deck wood sitting around in the backyard for ELEVEN MONTHS until we were finally able to rebuild? And then what - magically in the cold of January we'd want to finish up an outdoor project? I wasn't even trying to see through the end of my home improvement fantasy. I wanted only the instant gratification of change I could control.
It was the pause I think that helped me to realize what a direct correlation my bad day had to my desire to tear up something new. I was quickly hanging my head and laughing at myself, totally pegged with no one to blame. I think I'm so hard to figure out sometimes, but it seems that I just need to take a breath long enough to really see what I'm up to.
I'm not sure what we'll be doing this weekend. We might be snowed in (which would have made for a really great day ripping up the deck!). We might read books. We might watch movies. We might have to reflect a little bit on the week at work, and work through those things that were hard for us. But there will be NO home improvement projects happening at this address this weekend. No matter how hard I might try to convince myself it's a good idea...
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Conviction at Convention
So imagine if you will a whole convention hall filled with the stuff that you feel dorkiest about. I don't know what your 'thing' is, but you know it, so I'm sure you can take part in this imagination exercise. Maybe it's musicals or Star Trek or yoga or boy bands... whatever it is, imagine a whole exhibit area where every table has something that's totally interesting to you - and half of those tables are selling something that you definitely want.
That was what North Carolina's Diocesan Convention felt like to me this past weekend in Winston-Salem. I know it's totally dorky, but walking into that convention hall with all those wonderful booths just full all kinds of great churchy stuff - why, it was the hardest the Stuff Stand-off has been so far.
You see some of these booths had amazing things for sale: book after book that I'm certain I could benefit from, beautiful scarves from Jerusalem, hand-made wooden sculpted crosses, and the very hardest thing to resist - fleece jackets with the seal of the Diocese on them. And we ALL know I need a fleece jacket!!
It was hard. It was really hard. I watched all those people around me wrap their necks in beautiful scarves and slip on their fleece jackets as the walked outside into the cold afternoon and I looked down at my old black jacket that is stained and dirty and has pricker marks on it from walking through wooded paths in Spain, and I wanted something new. I wanted the smell of a coat that had never been worn and the feel of a never-read book resting in my palm. Oh yeah... I felt it.
Instead, I drank lots of water out of a water bottle that was given to me at the Camp Kanuga booth, that I promise I'll be giving away now that I'm back home. And I sat at my little table in the convention hall and shuffled my papers in front of me and tried hard to pay attention to everything that was happening in front of me. And with a sigh, I avoided the table where the jackets were being sold, and averted my eyes as I walked by.
There's something else that I left Convention without though: buyer's remorse. At events like that it has been so easy for me to get caught up in the experience and buy all kinds of things that I really like but don't necessarily need (I do have lots of scarves already). By the time it's over I leave with my arms full of stuff, thinking that I could have gotten by with just a little less and my bank account would feel better for it. But this year at Convention, I purchased only one glass of wine that I slowly enjoyed with a good friend and colleague that I hadn't seen in far too long at our hotel bar. And while it was a little overpriced, a $7.00 Convention is a whole lot less than I've paid in the past. And now that I'm not looking at it any more, I'm not that sad that I don't have that jacket.
Though maybe they'll sell it again next year...
That was what North Carolina's Diocesan Convention felt like to me this past weekend in Winston-Salem. I know it's totally dorky, but walking into that convention hall with all those wonderful booths just full all kinds of great churchy stuff - why, it was the hardest the Stuff Stand-off has been so far.
You see some of these booths had amazing things for sale: book after book that I'm certain I could benefit from, beautiful scarves from Jerusalem, hand-made wooden sculpted crosses, and the very hardest thing to resist - fleece jackets with the seal of the Diocese on them. And we ALL know I need a fleece jacket!!
It was hard. It was really hard. I watched all those people around me wrap their necks in beautiful scarves and slip on their fleece jackets as the walked outside into the cold afternoon and I looked down at my old black jacket that is stained and dirty and has pricker marks on it from walking through wooded paths in Spain, and I wanted something new. I wanted the smell of a coat that had never been worn and the feel of a never-read book resting in my palm. Oh yeah... I felt it.
Instead, I drank lots of water out of a water bottle that was given to me at the Camp Kanuga booth, that I promise I'll be giving away now that I'm back home. And I sat at my little table in the convention hall and shuffled my papers in front of me and tried hard to pay attention to everything that was happening in front of me. And with a sigh, I avoided the table where the jackets were being sold, and averted my eyes as I walked by.
There's something else that I left Convention without though: buyer's remorse. At events like that it has been so easy for me to get caught up in the experience and buy all kinds of things that I really like but don't necessarily need (I do have lots of scarves already). By the time it's over I leave with my arms full of stuff, thinking that I could have gotten by with just a little less and my bank account would feel better for it. But this year at Convention, I purchased only one glass of wine that I slowly enjoyed with a good friend and colleague that I hadn't seen in far too long at our hotel bar. And while it was a little overpriced, a $7.00 Convention is a whole lot less than I've paid in the past. And now that I'm not looking at it any more, I'm not that sad that I don't have that jacket.
Though maybe they'll sell it again next year...
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
the danger of delusional thinking
Not too long ago my husband and I came into a large sum of money, the likes of which we'd never really seen before. We live quite comfortably already, and did not have an immediate need for all that money, though some of it did help to offset some missing income when Jonathan was out of work for a bit. But even with that spent on bills and necessities, there was plenty left over.
We thought quite a bit about what we wanted to do with that money, and made mostly careful decisions about it. Investing some was obviously part of the plan, along with some home improvements and a vacation. But even when we had a plan for all that money, I noticed a change in our mentality. And we started acting differently. Like we had a bunch of money or something.
It caught me by surprise, this false-abundance feeling. Suddenly we started buying things that we might not otherwise have purchased, or at least not immediately, like new living room couches. We had no intention of paying for the couches with the money - we had a plan for that money, remember? But for some reason because we knew that money was there, it was easy to spend other money. Because, you know, we had that money.
Even as I write it now it makes no sense to me, but I'm sitting on the proof of that way of thinking while I write this. We overspent and overindulged because we felt so positive about the money we'd been given. We were rich! (or more correctly, we felt rich)
Then, as would be expected, the bills started rolling in, and we'd spent and invested the money just like we'd planned. And suddenly we didn't feel so rich anymore.
I've learned, as a result, to be a little leery about that kind of abundance thinking that we got trapped in. While I always want to operate out of a place of abundance (in a dorky, theological way), I think it's probably a good idea to operate our finances out of a slightly more conservative place.
Or at least I thought I'd learned that. But what do you know, the Stuff Stand-off comes along. And while the purpose of this Stand-off is not, I repeat - not to save us money, we have at least considered that saving money will be a possible side effect. And so what do we do? We start dreaming about what we can do instead of shopping.
"Let's go to Europe!"
"Let's spend a weekend in New York!"
"Let's spend two weeks in AUGUST on the Carolina coast with a house right on the beach!"
Before we'd gotten too far though (or made any reservations, thankfully) reality came crashing back down on us today. This reality looked something like a root canal and a destroyed transmission. So long New York.
The thing is, life always happens. And we might save money in one area, but it's never a bad idea to set that money aside for the day that life dishes us up some expensive challenges. Painful as those reminders are (I mean literally - my root canal was really uncomfortable) it's good to have them. Saved money can be just that - saved money. Not "spent someplace else" money. Sigh.
I'm glad we caught ourselves in the act this quickly, actually, before I bought another couch or something. The truth is that it's shopping that got us to this place in the first place, so we have a little hole that we can dig ourselves out of. No need to get delusional, not to mention WAY ahead of ourselves, and start spending that which we have not yet saved. Instead of our expensive travel plans, we might just hunker down and enjoy this house we've put so much work into. I need to get my money's worth out of these couches.
We thought quite a bit about what we wanted to do with that money, and made mostly careful decisions about it. Investing some was obviously part of the plan, along with some home improvements and a vacation. But even when we had a plan for all that money, I noticed a change in our mentality. And we started acting differently. Like we had a bunch of money or something.
It caught me by surprise, this false-abundance feeling. Suddenly we started buying things that we might not otherwise have purchased, or at least not immediately, like new living room couches. We had no intention of paying for the couches with the money - we had a plan for that money, remember? But for some reason because we knew that money was there, it was easy to spend other money. Because, you know, we had that money.
Even as I write it now it makes no sense to me, but I'm sitting on the proof of that way of thinking while I write this. We overspent and overindulged because we felt so positive about the money we'd been given. We were rich! (or more correctly, we felt rich)
Then, as would be expected, the bills started rolling in, and we'd spent and invested the money just like we'd planned. And suddenly we didn't feel so rich anymore.
I've learned, as a result, to be a little leery about that kind of abundance thinking that we got trapped in. While I always want to operate out of a place of abundance (in a dorky, theological way), I think it's probably a good idea to operate our finances out of a slightly more conservative place.
Or at least I thought I'd learned that. But what do you know, the Stuff Stand-off comes along. And while the purpose of this Stand-off is not, I repeat - not to save us money, we have at least considered that saving money will be a possible side effect. And so what do we do? We start dreaming about what we can do instead of shopping.
"Let's go to Europe!"
"Let's spend a weekend in New York!"
"Let's spend two weeks in AUGUST on the Carolina coast with a house right on the beach!"
Before we'd gotten too far though (or made any reservations, thankfully) reality came crashing back down on us today. This reality looked something like a root canal and a destroyed transmission. So long New York.
The thing is, life always happens. And we might save money in one area, but it's never a bad idea to set that money aside for the day that life dishes us up some expensive challenges. Painful as those reminders are (I mean literally - my root canal was really uncomfortable) it's good to have them. Saved money can be just that - saved money. Not "spent someplace else" money. Sigh.
I'm glad we caught ourselves in the act this quickly, actually, before I bought another couch or something. The truth is that it's shopping that got us to this place in the first place, so we have a little hole that we can dig ourselves out of. No need to get delusional, not to mention WAY ahead of ourselves, and start spending that which we have not yet saved. Instead of our expensive travel plans, we might just hunker down and enjoy this house we've put so much work into. I need to get my money's worth out of these couches.
p.s. on the jacket
So the jacket did actually arrive. Just after I'd posted my blog lamenting about how I'd been scammed I got a slip from the post office saying that I had a package. Oops.
Interestingly, when I discovered the jacket was coming I felt... bad. I'd actually convinced myself that it was for the best not to have the jacket, and when it came I suddenly felt like it was ridiculous for me to even want it in the first place. (I should probably add that it's been sunny and 65 degrees here this week which might be why I no longer feel that I need said jacket).
But my bad feeling didn't stick around for too long because it turns out I wasn't entirely wrong - I was kind of scammed.
The jacket, labeled as a women's medium, is definitely a fake and would maybe fit one of my junior high youth group members. I couldn't even get it zipped up the front! No jacket for me after all.
So I'll give it away. And in the end, I think I actually feel better about it. At least until another cold front comes through...
Interestingly, when I discovered the jacket was coming I felt... bad. I'd actually convinced myself that it was for the best not to have the jacket, and when it came I suddenly felt like it was ridiculous for me to even want it in the first place. (I should probably add that it's been sunny and 65 degrees here this week which might be why I no longer feel that I need said jacket).
But my bad feeling didn't stick around for too long because it turns out I wasn't entirely wrong - I was kind of scammed.
The jacket, labeled as a women's medium, is definitely a fake and would maybe fit one of my junior high youth group members. I couldn't even get it zipped up the front! No jacket for me after all.
So I'll give it away. And in the end, I think I actually feel better about it. At least until another cold front comes through...
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Cougars
Some time ago and for reasons that aren't entirely clear to me, the members of my youth group adopted an unofficial mascot: the cougar. Now I wish I could tell you that I was referring to the animal, but sadly, this is a cougar more of the Courtney Cox variety. It's inappropriate, but true. Some members of the (senior high) youth group have faked an obsessed with older women who date younger men for their own amusement.
When the interest in cougars (and I can't do any justice in writing to the way they say the word cougarzzz) started I did my best to stifle their humor about the whole thing. I ignored them, or hushed at them to be quiet. But I failed miserably and, like forcing a beach ball underwater, every time I tried to suppress them more the louder they would become in their talk about cougars. It was hopeless.
Sometime around the fall I became aware of the fact that while I was not the reason the whole thing had started, I fit nicely into the scheme of things because I, in fact, am married to someone three years younger than me. And so consequently, I am a cougar (sort of). The darlings in the youth group have begun to refer to my small section of gray hair near my temple (there in large part because of them) as my cougar stripe. And I'll admit it - it's hysterical. I want to encourage appropriate youth group behavior and conversation, but the cougars thing is funny. Really funny.
So a few months ago I asked them to think about designing some kind of youth group logo so that we could have t-shirts made, not realizing the can of worms that I was opening. In no time there was an Emmanuel Youth Group Cougar Hunter shirt posted on Facebook.
Now I do draw the line somewhere. I told them that under no circumstances could they put Emmanuel's name on that shirt, and they are good kids - really they are - so they laughed and promised they wouldn't. But the Cougar Hunter remained, and the shirt is scheduled to be ordered sometime this week. I should note the kids are ordering and paying for the shirts themselves - outside of it's place of origin this shirt has nothing to do with our youth group.
That said, when the ringleader texted me to ask if I wanted a shirt for $14.00, I said yes without hesitation. Duh. That was two days ago.
It wasn't until this morning, when I was sitting quietly in church, that I realized I had violated the Stuff Stand-off. Not wanting to short the kid his money, I figured I would buy it and leave it in my office until 2011 when it could be worn and brought home. But then I talked to him in between services and he said that they won't order them until they have the money. Which means, of course, that I can cancel my order and hold true to our agreement. Following this realization I experienced a huge let-down. I admit, I wasn't too sad that I had violated the Stand-off completely by accident and could still be in possession of my cougar t-shirt. Sitting there in church, I found myself still trying to wiggle around the rules to see if I could buy the shirt. It certainly wouldn't be around next year for me to purchase, so surely this special circumstance could count for something. But I simply couldn't think of a way out of it. That t-shirt definitely counts as "stuff".
Then I started thinking some about why I wanted the t-shirt so badly in the first place. And the truth is, I want it because I love those kids in my youth group. I love that they have found community here that is important to them, and intimate enough that they can have inside jokes and unofficial mascots. I love that they are just plain funny, and that they choose to include me in their humor and keep me laughing in the process. I love that they are comfortable enough with me that they can point out my gray hairs and call it my cougar stripe. I love that they went out of their way to design a t-shirt, just for fun. And I want that shirt because every time I look at it, even years from now when we've all gone in different directions, I'll remember this youth group and how great they were and how much I loved them.
But really... am I ever going to wear a t-shirt that says Cougar Hunter??
There's something about our culture where we so desperately want to capture those experiences we have that are good or meaningful. We stand at the Grand Canyon with a camera glued to our faces instead of breathing in the air and deafening silence. We travel to other countries and feel that our trips are incomplete if we don't have some kind of souvenir to take home with us. We hold onto clothing for years after we've stopped wearing it because of the memory it evokes when we pull it down off that top shelf in the closet. We humans want the impossible: tangible evidence of our emotions and experience, and the promise that our memories will never fade.
Our gospel passage this morning was the wedding at Cana, and I found myself wondering what would have happened if the disciples and servants at the wedding had scurried around to take a vile of the wine home with them so they would have evidence of Jesus' miracle that day. If that is all they had done, would we ever have been privy to that miracle? Instead, they drank the wine and enjoyed each others company, and the amazing experience they had that day. Then they told the story - for years and years until somebody wrote it down. And that's why we get to share in that story today. Because it was written down.
So I will not order a Cougar Hunter t-shirt, as much as I want something to hold in my hands that reminds me of my incredible youth group. Instead, I'll just write this all down, so that someday I can reread my own words and close my eyes and remember this all with a smile. And between now and then I can share the story with you (whoever you are) so that you know how great they are too.
COUGARZZZZZZZ...
Thursday, January 14, 2010
My first big hit.
Well, I've now experienced the first inconvenience of The Stuff Stand-off. As you may or may not remember from my first blog entry, one of the rules of our Stand-off was that anything in motion can stay in motion. This rule was put in place primarily for Jonathan's magazines and my, recently purchased, North Face fleece jacket that I bought off of ebay just before we brought in the new year.
I was really excited about this jacket, not only because I love North Face, but also because I haven't had just the right winter jacket since I got to North Carolina. The winters are cold here, but not too cold, so the ski jacket I wore in the winter further north is hardly appropriate. But it still gets chilly, so the pretty spring and fall jacket that I wear isn't quite warm enough on the brisk days. I do have my work coat that suffices, but I don't have a casual coat that keeps me warm enough but doesn't make me look like a misplaced ski bunny.
So this is why I had decided on the fleece. Just the right kind of coat to get me happily through the winter (or what's left of it). And to be honest with you, part of the reason I felt okay about beginning this experiment is because I knew the coat was coming.
I've been waiting eagerly from the coat's arrival, and today when I got home from work and it still wasn't there, I decided to jump on-line and check out what the delay was. You can imagine my dismay when I had a message from ebay telling me that I still needed to provide feedback on my purchase (HELLO? I haven't gotten it!) but worse, that my seller was no longer registered on ebay. In short: I was scammed.
I know I should be most upset about the lost money, but all I can really think about is not having that coat for the duration of this winter or for the beginning of the next one. Thankfully our cold front is leaving town and warmer weather is on it's way, but this still comes as a blow.
So now I keep telling myself - I already have more than I need. I can make due with the coats in my closet, and I can be grateful that I have a coat to wear at all.
But man - I was really looking forward to that North Face...
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Since I haven't yet had a day off since we've started our Stuff Stand-off, I have yet to really feel the pinch of not being able to spend/waste time out shopping. So it's been a quiet week of not really feeling the pinch of our newest decision. It's pretty easy to not spend time shopping when you just don't have any time. We'll see what happens this weekend.
In the meantime, I've started to really take notice of some of the things we have in our home, and I think it's only fair to share a visual of why I've made this decision to my non-existent readers. So here you have it - a photo of my study (for lack of a better term) which is really just the room where we now pile all of the things that don't have a better home. Allow me to provide a brief explanation of some of these items and why they have been deposited in the extra room. In warmer weather, the ironing board lives in the garage, where it still takes up space we don't really have, but I refuse to be out in the cold early in the morning when I'm begrudgingly ironing my church clothes, so for now it lives inside. The couch cushions are replacements for when I switch from our chaise option to our sofa and ottoman option, which I have in fact done. This option is part of why I loved the couches so much and consequently bought them, but I now feel confused and overwhelmed about where these cushions should live when they are not in use. So here they sit. The laundry basket holds in it a variety of kitchenware, placemats, and cloth napkins that lost their home when we recently renovated our kitchen. While we made more space for ourselves when we renovated, somehow we did not make the right amount of space for these items. The tool box on the floor is for some of Jon's art supplies, abandoned since he discovered wood, and the throw pillows on top of that were used in our first version of the living room and matched a couch that we no longer have. But I do use them sometimes when I meditate. Then the closet itself is a beauty to behold. We added shelving last year so that we could maximize every inch of the space there, and we have used every inch for Jon's art supplies and drawings, my arts and crafts supplies, photo albums, and many other odds and ends that find their way there when there is nowhere else to go. While all of the objects in this closet are well-loved, hence why we didn't get rid of them, I feel that I should note that they are rarely used. Yes, when we use them it is worth it, but it is hard to have this closet starting at me all the time with me never going into it to actually retrieve anything.
There are many other places in our house that resemble this closet, though I'm happy to admit nothing looks quite this sloppy. But the point is that our house is full of things that sometimes maybe get used or that we really like and wished we used, and so there they sit. And that can start to feel kind of overwhelming.
My hope is that this endeavor will help us to realize how much we don't actually need to have lying around the house. Maybe, just maybe, we'll learn how to get by with a handful of placemats instead of 10 of them.
Before I stop writing, I do want to mention that I'm keenly aware that thousands of people have lost their homes and their lives over the last 24 hours in Haiti. I've been following the news coverage all day. I thought about not blogging about all my stuff today, because I feel over-privileged and embarrassed to even be having to experiment with not buying things when so many people suffer from such devastating poverty and destruction. But then I realize that perhaps the only way for me to really experience a change is to be totally honest about my way of living, even if it causes me shame in the face of a true disaster. Maybe we should be a little embarrassed about the way we're living in this country. So I'll keep putting it out there, because being aware of the discrepancy between my life and the lives of those who live in Haiti is worth paying attention to. My prayers are with all those who have experienced loss today, and for those for whom a blog of this nature would be a luxury beyond their comprehension.
Monday, January 11, 2010
On second thought....
Not a huge surprise our first real day of the Stuff Stand-off provided some opportunities for us to see the need for new/extended rules and a change of our mindset from yesterday. So here are some amendments to what I wrote yesterday:
First, I take back what I said about following this blog or pretending to do so. Upon further thought, I realized (as did Jonathan) that an effort to make this blog something lots of folks would be interested in following goes against my own logic around my recent decision to break up with facebook. I had to step back from the constant interaction with people from various parts of my life, and I couldn't be rushing to the computer ten times a day to see if anyone had commented on my wall. The same must be true for this blog, as I am not looking to substitute on-line addictions. So, just so that it's out there, this blog will continue to exist, but don't feel the need to follow or comment. My family and some close friends will know about it, but I will do nothing to advertise it's existence, and I'm okay with that.
Second, not surprisingly, my first attempt at shopping following my own rules proved to be complex. I am one of three hosts of a baby shower this weekend, and I am the party responsible for the favors, which required some purchases. Falls under the gift rule, right? Maybe. The thing is, there will be leftovers from these purchases, which cannot be given away at the shower, and those leftovers will end up in my home. I stood in Staples trying to reconcile this issue and simply not sure how to solve it, as I had already committed myself to this particular favor long before I committed myself to the Stuff Stand-off 2010. Needing to get a move on, I decided that I would make my purchase, and in exchange for bringing one more thing into my house, I would take something out - akin to the rule about being out of control of someone else giving us an item. I know it's a stretch, I won't lie. Needless to say from here on out I'll be pretty cautious of what I can commit to as far as party favors are concerned. Consider this a lesson well-learned.
I will say though, that I went into Target today and came out with only a gift for my friend and nothing for me. So already - the times, they are a-chagin'...
First, I take back what I said about following this blog or pretending to do so. Upon further thought, I realized (as did Jonathan) that an effort to make this blog something lots of folks would be interested in following goes against my own logic around my recent decision to break up with facebook. I had to step back from the constant interaction with people from various parts of my life, and I couldn't be rushing to the computer ten times a day to see if anyone had commented on my wall. The same must be true for this blog, as I am not looking to substitute on-line addictions. So, just so that it's out there, this blog will continue to exist, but don't feel the need to follow or comment. My family and some close friends will know about it, but I will do nothing to advertise it's existence, and I'm okay with that.
Second, not surprisingly, my first attempt at shopping following my own rules proved to be complex. I am one of three hosts of a baby shower this weekend, and I am the party responsible for the favors, which required some purchases. Falls under the gift rule, right? Maybe. The thing is, there will be leftovers from these purchases, which cannot be given away at the shower, and those leftovers will end up in my home. I stood in Staples trying to reconcile this issue and simply not sure how to solve it, as I had already committed myself to this particular favor long before I committed myself to the Stuff Stand-off 2010. Needing to get a move on, I decided that I would make my purchase, and in exchange for bringing one more thing into my house, I would take something out - akin to the rule about being out of control of someone else giving us an item. I know it's a stretch, I won't lie. Needless to say from here on out I'll be pretty cautious of what I can commit to as far as party favors are concerned. Consider this a lesson well-learned.
I will say though, that I went into Target today and came out with only a gift for my friend and nothing for me. So already - the times, they are a-chagin'...
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Well, here we are at the beginning of something. Or at least I hope it's the beginning of something. What's beginning is the Stuff Stand-Off 2010, a challenge my husband and I have just decided to take on for the year. And this is our challenge: that for the duration of this calendar year we will not purchase and consequently bring into our home any "stuff" that falls outside of the realm of food and household necessities. So for one whole year there will be no new shoes or clothes, no additional electronics, no more furniture, no new books or games, no nothing. Most of all - and this will perhaps be our biggest challenge - no new home improvement projects of any kind. Not even paint. It all counts. If we don't need to eat it, care for our pets with it, or use it to take care of our most basic needs, it's out. No more. Goodbye stuff.
But that's actually the end of the story. Let me tell you a little bit about how it started...
The Story of Stuff
I suppose before I really dive into the explanation behind the Stuff Stand-Off I should give just a bit of background. I married the love of my life in May of 2007 and we packed up our belongings into a moderately sized moving van (the kind you can rent yourself, so that tells you it wasn't too big) and transported ourselves to the lovely town of Southern Pines, NC. Full of anticipation and excitement, we pulled up to our new 1500 square foot house and set to the task of moving our belongings inside. Like many newly married couples, our collection of furniture and belongings was pretty slim. This was in large part due to the fact that I had given away many of my things when I downsized to a dorm room for graduate school (seminary, actually) and all of Jonathan's belongings were second, third, and fourth hand pieces that were quickly denied access to our moving van by me. They became someone else's fifth hand items, I decision I still do not regret. But the result was a stack of boxes, a rickety bed frame with a dilapidated mattress (maybe we shouldn't have folded it all those times to get it up and down the stairs), an old red IKEA couch given to me by a classmate in seminary, another IKEA chair (also a gift), a wooden dining room chair with a red seat, and two very enthusiastic homeowners in a 3 bedroom house with plenty of possibilities.
I won't get into the details of how we managed to fill our house SO quickly, though IKEA did have something to do with it, but I will confess that every room in our house is now in at least it's second renovation - be it a new color on the walls, new furniture, new flooring or otherwise. Our closets are bursting at the seams, boxes and furniture not even two years old are stuffed into our inadequate attic space, and you couldn't put a car in the garage if you were Houdini. And all of that doesn't even begin to address what has happened with the gardens, yards, and walkways that surround our home. We have been very busy during these short 2 1/2 years, and our home is a far cry from the empty rooms that greeted us our first month of marriage.
To be honest though, we've been happy this way. The thrill of the renovation, the rush of adrenaline that greets you when the automatic doors swish open to welcome you at IKEA, the friends we've made at Lowe's... it's been a wonderful couple of years. Even if one part of our home has been torn apart every month since we got here.
But then my mom came down for Thanksgiving this past year, as is her new custom now that we are living down in the south. While we were visiting and sharing what had been happening in our lives she jumped up a little and said "Oh! Have you seen the Story of Stuff? I've got to show you the Story of Stuff." and before I knew it we were standing behind her in the room where we house our computer (once art studio, once craft room, twice a study, now just a room where we put the odds and ends) watching her boot up this video on-line. And then we were watching it. If you've got some time to spare, you should watch it too:
www.thestoryofstuff.com
If you don't have time to watch it, I'll offer you the description from their website:
"From its extraction through sale, use and disposal, all the stuff in our lives affects communities at home and abroad, yet most of this is hidden from view. The Story of Stuff is a 20-minute, fast-paced, fact-filled look at the underside of our production and consumption patterns."
I'd be lying to you if I said Jonathan and I weren't impacted by this video, and we could certainly see how we had fallen into the pattern of mass consumerism even when the objects we are buying aren't even remotely necessary. But while we certainly thought for a while about some of the things we were buying, there were no major changes in our behavior patterns. Because let's face it: shopping is so much fun! And when shopping fails to be fun, home improvement is always there to swoop in and save the day.
Which brings us to tonight, somehow. Tonight, after a long day at church, I was desperate for an easy fix for our youth group meeting (alright kids, there you have it - the truth comes out) and while I was lying down for an all too brief respite furrowing my brow in thought it occurred to me that a video would be the best way to go. But it was youth group, so it had to be a meangingful video.
"AHA!" I opened my eyes with a start, "I'll show them the Story of Stuff!"
Pleased with my new plan I loaded my computer into the car and to the dismay of my youth group members, so thrilled to be together again after a long Christmas break, I made them watch the short clip and then worse - they had to talk about it. Some of them benefited from it. Others were miserable and made no effort to mask their misery. But what was unexpected was that while watching this video again, twice actually, something happened to me. Suddenly I felt moved to do something big - something drastic - in order to see how our lives might be impacted by a change. Reflecting on the date, January 10th, I did a quick mental rewind over the previous ten days. Miraculously, I had gone ten whole days into the new year without shopping for anything, thanks in large part to some traveling and a busy work schedule upon my return. But save for a few People magazines in the airport, my shopping attempts (and their had been attempts) had been thwarted. Coincidence? I think not.
I came home and pitched my idea to Jonathan, and more evidence to why he's the man for me (as if I needed any) was his quick and enthusiastic approval of my plan: no more stuff in the house until 2011. Ripping a piece of paper off a note pad/fridge magnet/calendar thing I'd been given that was lying around, we jotted down the rules of engagement. They are as follows:
1. Groceries and other household necessities (kitty litter, toothbrushes) will be permitted during the year of the Stuff Stand-Off.
2. Gifts for others are permitted, but there must be an occasion. No more trips to IKEA to buy curtains for your sister and her husband (who perhaps hadn't even noticed that they didn't have curtains) just because it would be fun. (Sorry Kate)
3. Anything that we use that needs to be replaced is also allowed: paper for the printer, staples, etc.
4. Anything already in motion stays in motion, ie. our magazine subscriptions and the jacket I ordered off Ebay on December 31st that hasn't yet come.
5. If we discover that we really, really need something we can take it second-hand (if offered) from a friend or acquaintance.
6. We will gently suggest that our friends and family help us with this effort by not purchasing "stuff" for us, even if it's a holiday or birthday. If something is given to us that is outside of our control or despite our asking, we are committed to remove one item from our house for every item that comes in. So if we really want to keep the picture frame we are given when we host a party, something else has to go.
With our rules jotted hastily on our note paper, and a new name for our project we toasted to our effort and went our separate ways. Jonathan to the garage to continue making whatever drawer, cabinet, etc that he might be working on, and me to the computer (which will hopefully last a year!) to write down the story behind our effort so that we might have what we cannot do without: ACCOUNTABILITY. If anyone is still reading this, and I appreciate it if you are, it will help to have people know we have taken this on. Go ahead and ask us how it's going. While I'm not great about writing consistently (I was always hopeless at keeping a journal) I'm thinking that the Stuff Stand-Off 2010 will provide me with enough challenges - and free time! - that I'll be able to keep you posted over the course of the year.
Before I sign off I will say one thing. I fully recognize that this is at least a little reminiscent of Julie Powell's "Julie and Julia" book which of course became a big blockbuster movie. I suppose it's a sad commentary that I would much more easily give up shopping for a year than I would EVER consider cooking everything in Julia Child's cookbook. I think that's just insane, though I commend her for the achievement. But please know while I liked that book, I am not trying to mimic her effort, nor do I ever expect Amy Adams to play me in a movie. Really, I'm just looking for a spiritual overhaul; a change in the status quo. And I'm thrilled to have a husband that's happy to be along for the ride. Maybe you'll come along for the ride too. Or maybe you won't. And that's okay too, but pretend like you are. Otherwise I might feel so sad and rejected that I have to go shopping...
But that's actually the end of the story. Let me tell you a little bit about how it started...
The Story of Stuff
I suppose before I really dive into the explanation behind the Stuff Stand-Off I should give just a bit of background. I married the love of my life in May of 2007 and we packed up our belongings into a moderately sized moving van (the kind you can rent yourself, so that tells you it wasn't too big) and transported ourselves to the lovely town of Southern Pines, NC. Full of anticipation and excitement, we pulled up to our new 1500 square foot house and set to the task of moving our belongings inside. Like many newly married couples, our collection of furniture and belongings was pretty slim. This was in large part due to the fact that I had given away many of my things when I downsized to a dorm room for graduate school (seminary, actually) and all of Jonathan's belongings were second, third, and fourth hand pieces that were quickly denied access to our moving van by me. They became someone else's fifth hand items, I decision I still do not regret. But the result was a stack of boxes, a rickety bed frame with a dilapidated mattress (maybe we shouldn't have folded it all those times to get it up and down the stairs), an old red IKEA couch given to me by a classmate in seminary, another IKEA chair (also a gift), a wooden dining room chair with a red seat, and two very enthusiastic homeowners in a 3 bedroom house with plenty of possibilities.
I won't get into the details of how we managed to fill our house SO quickly, though IKEA did have something to do with it, but I will confess that every room in our house is now in at least it's second renovation - be it a new color on the walls, new furniture, new flooring or otherwise. Our closets are bursting at the seams, boxes and furniture not even two years old are stuffed into our inadequate attic space, and you couldn't put a car in the garage if you were Houdini. And all of that doesn't even begin to address what has happened with the gardens, yards, and walkways that surround our home. We have been very busy during these short 2 1/2 years, and our home is a far cry from the empty rooms that greeted us our first month of marriage.
To be honest though, we've been happy this way. The thrill of the renovation, the rush of adrenaline that greets you when the automatic doors swish open to welcome you at IKEA, the friends we've made at Lowe's... it's been a wonderful couple of years. Even if one part of our home has been torn apart every month since we got here.
But then my mom came down for Thanksgiving this past year, as is her new custom now that we are living down in the south. While we were visiting and sharing what had been happening in our lives she jumped up a little and said "Oh! Have you seen the Story of Stuff? I've got to show you the Story of Stuff." and before I knew it we were standing behind her in the room where we house our computer (once art studio, once craft room, twice a study, now just a room where we put the odds and ends) watching her boot up this video on-line. And then we were watching it. If you've got some time to spare, you should watch it too:
www.thestoryofstuff.com
If you don't have time to watch it, I'll offer you the description from their website:
"From its extraction through sale, use and disposal, all the stuff in our lives affects communities at home and abroad, yet most of this is hidden from view. The Story of Stuff is a 20-minute, fast-paced, fact-filled look at the underside of our production and consumption patterns."
I'd be lying to you if I said Jonathan and I weren't impacted by this video, and we could certainly see how we had fallen into the pattern of mass consumerism even when the objects we are buying aren't even remotely necessary. But while we certainly thought for a while about some of the things we were buying, there were no major changes in our behavior patterns. Because let's face it: shopping is so much fun! And when shopping fails to be fun, home improvement is always there to swoop in and save the day.
Which brings us to tonight, somehow. Tonight, after a long day at church, I was desperate for an easy fix for our youth group meeting (alright kids, there you have it - the truth comes out) and while I was lying down for an all too brief respite furrowing my brow in thought it occurred to me that a video would be the best way to go. But it was youth group, so it had to be a meangingful video.
"AHA!" I opened my eyes with a start, "I'll show them the Story of Stuff!"
Pleased with my new plan I loaded my computer into the car and to the dismay of my youth group members, so thrilled to be together again after a long Christmas break, I made them watch the short clip and then worse - they had to talk about it. Some of them benefited from it. Others were miserable and made no effort to mask their misery. But what was unexpected was that while watching this video again, twice actually, something happened to me. Suddenly I felt moved to do something big - something drastic - in order to see how our lives might be impacted by a change. Reflecting on the date, January 10th, I did a quick mental rewind over the previous ten days. Miraculously, I had gone ten whole days into the new year without shopping for anything, thanks in large part to some traveling and a busy work schedule upon my return. But save for a few People magazines in the airport, my shopping attempts (and their had been attempts) had been thwarted. Coincidence? I think not.
I came home and pitched my idea to Jonathan, and more evidence to why he's the man for me (as if I needed any) was his quick and enthusiastic approval of my plan: no more stuff in the house until 2011. Ripping a piece of paper off a note pad/fridge magnet/calendar thing I'd been given that was lying around, we jotted down the rules of engagement. They are as follows:
1. Groceries and other household necessities (kitty litter, toothbrushes) will be permitted during the year of the Stuff Stand-Off.
2. Gifts for others are permitted, but there must be an occasion. No more trips to IKEA to buy curtains for your sister and her husband (who perhaps hadn't even noticed that they didn't have curtains) just because it would be fun. (Sorry Kate)
3. Anything that we use that needs to be replaced is also allowed: paper for the printer, staples, etc.
4. Anything already in motion stays in motion, ie. our magazine subscriptions and the jacket I ordered off Ebay on December 31st that hasn't yet come.
5. If we discover that we really, really need something we can take it second-hand (if offered) from a friend or acquaintance.
6. We will gently suggest that our friends and family help us with this effort by not purchasing "stuff" for us, even if it's a holiday or birthday. If something is given to us that is outside of our control or despite our asking, we are committed to remove one item from our house for every item that comes in. So if we really want to keep the picture frame we are given when we host a party, something else has to go.
With our rules jotted hastily on our note paper, and a new name for our project we toasted to our effort and went our separate ways. Jonathan to the garage to continue making whatever drawer, cabinet, etc that he might be working on, and me to the computer (which will hopefully last a year!) to write down the story behind our effort so that we might have what we cannot do without: ACCOUNTABILITY. If anyone is still reading this, and I appreciate it if you are, it will help to have people know we have taken this on. Go ahead and ask us how it's going. While I'm not great about writing consistently (I was always hopeless at keeping a journal) I'm thinking that the Stuff Stand-Off 2010 will provide me with enough challenges - and free time! - that I'll be able to keep you posted over the course of the year.
Before I sign off I will say one thing. I fully recognize that this is at least a little reminiscent of Julie Powell's "Julie and Julia" book which of course became a big blockbuster movie. I suppose it's a sad commentary that I would much more easily give up shopping for a year than I would EVER consider cooking everything in Julia Child's cookbook. I think that's just insane, though I commend her for the achievement. But please know while I liked that book, I am not trying to mimic her effort, nor do I ever expect Amy Adams to play me in a movie. Really, I'm just looking for a spiritual overhaul; a change in the status quo. And I'm thrilled to have a husband that's happy to be along for the ride. Maybe you'll come along for the ride too. Or maybe you won't. And that's okay too, but pretend like you are. Otherwise I might feel so sad and rejected that I have to go shopping...
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