Finding the Time and Money

Living sustainably can be overwhelming at times, especially in the brutal summer heat in Phoenix. There's so much I want to do inside and outside the house. It's easy to lose focus without weekly goals that focus on improving one or two things. Everything takes time! But I've got to stop and realize that I can't do everything at once.

Finding a way to salvage Thomas's work shoes, only worn down at the heal, takes time. Learning how to patch the growing pile of holey clothing pieces takes time. Building shade structures to improve the productivity and survival of the garden takes time. Learning, in general, takes time. Knowledge is just the cornerstone of self-reliance, and knowledge often costs money, which brings me to the second issue.

Building anything takes money, even with salvaged wood. Creating Toby Hemenway's "Ultimate, Bombproof Sheet Mulch" for fall planting season costs money. Replacing the wasteful products in my home with sustainable products -- even if I go the crochet-it-myself route -- costs money. Everything I want to do takes some kind of initial investment.

We currently have a $30 per week and one $20 purchase each month allowance per person. Until my garden starts producing food to replace groceries, I'm using only this allowance to reach my sustainability goals. But this is also the same source of money I use to eat out with friends or see a movie.

It's a struggle debating what is more important: on the one hand, I value the relationships I have very, very much. And a lot of those relationships are reinforced with spending time together. On the other hand, my goals just won't happen if I don't put SOME money into it.

So, the first step I'm going to take is to schedule some sustainability tasks for the next few weeks. Then, I'm going to figure out how much I'd need to save up for each of those tasks. One step at a time.

Frugality

This past weekend I attended and thoroughly enjoyed Phoenix Comic Con, especially the exuberance of fandom and artistic talent found at Artist's Alley. As my friends and I wondered through the booths and eyed the geeky shirts, posters, books, art, and other paraphernalia, my sense of frugality was tested over and over. On the one hand, the human desire to gather as much pretties as possible tickled, and on the other hand, the eyes of these talented artists and writers bore into my pre-frontal pity, encouraging me to patronize. But I stuck to my guns for the most part--aside from one celebratory purchase planned out and discussed with hubby Thomas--and stayed within budget.

Every time I experience these tests of my principles, it makes me question why I do what I do. After all, my friends didn't seem as concerned. They gleefully order dessert after a large meal or shop the booths for random paraphernalia. Sticking to my allowance meant that I gave up going to an event at the con that cost extra, so I had enough allowance left over to enjoy eating out with my friends (foregoing the PB&J I'd have to bring otherwise).

Don't get me wrong: making tiny sacrifices to stay within budget gives you a delicious sense of righteousness. Can't help it. It just does. But at the same time, I saw the look in my friends' eyes. You know that look. It's the look they give me every time I say, "Oh, can't go to that, I don't have enough money." It's the why are you doing this? look. There's also the politics of money. I have a full-time job, no school loans, and am nearly a mortgage-free ($10,000 to go!) owner of a house. So when I make decisions to stick to my budgeted allowance, I get that look. Don't you talk about not having money. Why are you doing this?


So after the con, I went home and said to Thomas, "Remind me again. Why are we doing this?"

I wanted to know if I was the extreme one, the dumb one. The one making arbitrary sacrifices. Were they right? Are we wrong?

He replied, "Sticking to our budget gives us the freedom to choose between retirement and work. We can choose to be debt-free."

Now I'm not a fan of retirement for middle-class, white collar workers such as myself. Moving onto to new and better things when money doesn't become an issue is one thing, but the goal should not be absence of purposeful work. But debt-free? That's my dream right there. That's why I do what I do.

I want to be beholden to no one, free from being trapped. Frugal living will not only help us pay for life's big expenses without borrowing, but it enables us to need less to be happy.