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.

Wherever You Are

I was flipping through my notebook the other day when I came upon this entry:

The closer I can get to defining my life and activities with values and meaning, the closer I feel to who I am. I want a closer, smaller world where biking is the usual way to get around, vegetarian restaurants are plentiful, coffee houses reign in every block, and my favorite bookstores and libraries are around the corner. One day, maybe I can live in Tempe near Changing Hands and Trader Joe's.


Now here's the key question: do we change the world by seeking communities of like-minded souls? and flocking to those communities? Or do we stay where we are and work to make the community what we long to live in?

If the green-minded folks all flocked to "Green" cities and communities, would they become smugly cloistered in their Amish-like isolation? Or would their modeling send out concentric waves of influence that would eventually shape a different kind of living for the nation? the world?

Obviously, I don't know the answer. But I do believe that sustainability in our daily lives does have a root in frugality and avoidance of debt. Spend only what you have and only on things you truly need.

My husband and I have $17,000 left before we pay off our mortgage and are debt-free. We do not intend to be in debt ever again.

Instead of searching for the bigger, better things to own, we want to find pleasure in what we have earned. Likewise, instead of searching for a better, more suitable world "out there," shouldn't we make our world, our village better?

Maybe it's naive, and this experiment will end in hubby and I saving up money to to flee to a "better" neighborhood. But, imagine, just imagine if it succeeds.

Each of us sustainability nuts spread throughout the world, planted in communities and subdivisions, bringing about change. That dream is definitely worth staying put for.

Sustainability and Self-Sufficiency

There's a close relationship between sustainability and the pursuit of self-sufficiency.

If we have more control over where our food comes from and how it is produced, for example, wouldn't we make better choices than a factory farm out to make money?

If we were in charge of producing our own clothing and household products locally, wouldn't we choose methods and chemicals that would not harm our community?

Control empowers every day people to live a life of choice, rather than one of convenience and powerlessness.

Sometimes it's harder or more time-consuming, but at least it's yours.

Environmentalism = Sacrifice?

As an adolescent, I was passionate about the environment.

I don't remember how it started--maybe some environmental article in a library book--but the plight of animals and rainforests thousands of miles away captured my heart.

I started environmental clubs Online, read Silent Spring, and (much to the consternation of my Chinese-American parents) became a vegetarian.

After I became home schooled just prior to high school, I was certain that my life purpose was to live in a tree in Oregon as a member of Earth First! 


Then, something happened.

I guess you'd call it, growing up. Some call it selling out.

Whatever it was, I shut down and closed my eyes to the movement. I mean, I still cared . . . when I thought about it. But I avoided thinking about it as much as possible.

I started eating meat again and stopped reading the activist mags. My life stopped being about the environment, and it began to focus on people I loved and the unforgettable, careless adventures of college.

Later, as my graduate program ended, I was focused on getting a job to pay the bills, wedding planning, you know, LIFE stuff.

In a way, what happened to me felt like release. It was like I was done not living in the present, in the now, in my community.

Being part of the environmental movement pulled me away from my community, my family, and my friends and projected me into the fate of rainforests and endangered species I only knew in pictures.

It called for daily sacrifices that benefited an unknown held up by my imagination. When the stresses and joys of the present called to me, this imagination wasn't enough.

That's why I believe that sustainability is a movement with a future. It's not a movement of tree huggers, which sounds good in theory . . . unless you live in the Sonoran desert.

It's a movement that calls for balance and harmony in all aspects of one's lifestyle.

It doesn't spurn the things that humans love, but it looks for a way that what we desire can coexist with the very foundation of life: the ecosystem.

The Vision of Sustainability

Sustainability - living in such a way so that one's needs are met without compromising the planet, other human beings, and our humanity.

How does this look in the lives of those living in the cities, the burbs, and the small town? How does this look in my life?

I live in a single-family unit with a yard in a suburban subdivision outside of town. Maybe that explains why I've gone to the Web to find a definition for sustainability.

Suburban neighborhoods are the essence of what isn't sustainability. Let's take a peak, shall we?

1. Garages - Nothing hurts my sense of frugality than a garage packed with abandoned goods someone, sometime thought was a good idea to spend hard earned money on.

2. Lawns - Barbara Kingsolver says it best "Cities there [in Arizona] function like space stations, importing every ounce of fresh water from distant rivers or fossil aquifers." Using this precious water for the vanity of lush green lawns is heart breaking.

3. Vehicles - In Phoenix, even bike commuting enthusiasts like myself sit behind the wheel of a gas-guzzler way too often in order to remain connected and, often, in order to live the status quo life that's been handed to us.

4. Obesity- It's usually due to lack of vigorous activity and an abundance of fast, fried foods. Not only is the sustainability of the person at risk, but it's indicative of the habits that risk the sustainability of the Earth.

Most people seem to busy with families, children, hobbies, bills, and work to worry about whether or not their habits, desires, and lifestyle is sustainable for the planet. But I am convinced this is just a facade.

If the Green Movement has shown anything, it's that people do care. Or rather, they want to care.

In the end, practicality and animal instinct are the enemy.

It seems more practical to buy the cheap brand rather than the Green brand, to eat the chicken just like "everyone else" so as not to inconvenience others, to take 20 minutes to drive some place rather than the hour and a half to bike there.

Consumerism is really just an extension of animal instinct. Building our nest and making it bigger and better is not an artificial urge; it's how we're programmed.

The solution is vision, a vision of sustainability that merges practicality and a long-term investment in family, community, and planet.

The Quest

After nearly twenty-five years on the planet, I've decided that I'm not going to live the "normal" sitcom life.

It's killing the ecosystem, other people, and brain cells. Worst of all, this cycle of work, then consume (and sometimes consume then work like crazy to pay it off) is far from satisfying.

So, my quest is this: build a sustainable life.

This journey includes figuring out exactly what that means. I have a feeling it's one of those things you define as you go.

So, here I go.