GetSat

Katherine Hauswirth is but one of the Get Satisfied authors who relate their individual stories of finding satisfaction in our recently published book Get Satisfied: How Twenty People Like You Found the Satisfaction of Enough. Each voice is unique..... as is yours. Wander on over to the web site to learn more and also share your experiences and insight.

Here's an excerpt from Katherine's story:

“Ignoring Walden”

As a writer, it is embarrassing to admit that I don’t much like Henry David Thoreau. Every nature book I pick up alludes to Walden, and I’ve read quotes by Thoreau that are singularly brilliant. Despite the reputation that precedes the book and its author, twice I’ve picked up Walden and twice I’ve found myself annoyed by the flowery language and by Thoreau’s entitled-sounding, all or nothing, breakaway attitude toward simple living. I am the first to admit that part of my anti-Walden impulse is just plain jealousy. I have fantasies of living solo in a cabin and writing my opus (although I would prefer not having to build the cabin). But there is more to my self-imposed exile from Walden Pond than green-eyed envy.

Radical simplicity—you know, the quit your job, grow your own food, live off the grid type of existence—works for some. But it scares most of us. It scares some of us so much that we even shy away from not so radical simplicity, where the move toward a simpler existence can mean very gradually weaning ourselves from the comforting teat of complacency while we awaken to the natural world. The start of this personal growth can be nothing more than happenstance—no manifesto involved. My first steps toward simplicity were more like stumbles in the dark. . . . .


I am no Thoreau. I doubt I will ever find myself alone in a cabin for more than a few days. Compared with Thoreau’s quest, my changes have been more timid, more gradual, and more accidental. But still, both my move away from suburbia and my rejection of my nursing career were departures from some very comfortable zones, and it would have been easier, at least in the short term, to avoid those choices. Each transition, though difficult at first, reflected my becoming more in tune with who I really was. I learned the first tenet of simple living: to think and act on one’s own. It feels good to live beyond musts and shoulds, to break from the status quo. My attraction to voluntary simplicity is an outgrowth of this gradual breaking away, of reappraising what is normal, what is enough for me, what I need to feel satisfied.

When I began to read about others who sought life beyond the treadmill of expectation, my explorations were isolated from action. I wanted to immerse myself in nature, but I didn’t want to get into environmentalism. I wanted a less commercial perspective, but I didn’t reduce my trips to the store. Only recently did I connect my disdain for material and mental clutter with what it represents: a turning away from any habit that obscures my deepest, truest priorities. I also started to connect my personal actions with a larger picture. I take pleasure in every opportunity to make decisions, knowing that each one ripples out beyond me, if only in small ways, to the world at large.

In truth, I am still in the stage where I am mostly thinking. I am not a vegetarian yet, but I am eating less meat and exploring the next step (fish only). I haven’t led any protests, but I have written to the government about our energy and foreign relations policies. I haven’t disposed of all my possessions, but I am increasingly likely to put off a new purchase and to share my wealth.

Observation is important to my lifestyle, and I reap tons of satisfaction from considering what’s before me, recognizing meaning and beauty within the seemingly mundane world. I wait for the wren who naps in my porch eaves every spring. I rejoice in the nature trail that’s hidden just beyond the highway, in the wriggly worms that my son Gavin scoops up from the asphalt after a storm. It’s not just nature, although nature is primary. It is also finding an inspiring book among a lackluster garage sale selection or bagging up clothing I no longer need for donation. Countless small things like these bring me pleasure.

In exploring simplicity discussion forums online, I ran into an anti-status-quo faction that had become a new status quo in the narrower world of that group. They criticized people for buying a new washing machine or questioned whether an eager new simplicity seeker really needed that consignment shop trip. These were the deprivation-proud radicals who insisted that simplicity was an all-or-nothing commitment.

On one extreme of the simple-living spectrum are the territorial types who feel the need to surpass others, who equate ambivalence with weakness. On the other are magazines trying to convince us that scaling down requires more purchases: we have to go out and stock up on wholesome, charming, simplicity-related supplies. Sometimes I want to cut through the media babble and be more of an uncompromising idealist; sometimes I want stacks of new boxes and shelves for organizing my kitchen. I can be attracted to either impulse, depending on my mood. But what really feels right is striving for independent thought and shunning programmed activity of any kind. I believe that we can all find ways to lighten our stress as well as our imprint on the earth, but like all change this will happen only in fits and starts, the sum of our own individual paces. . . . .

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Katherine Hauswirth is a writer (technical by day, creative by stolen moments) who lives near the Connecticut shoreline. Her blog, Inching Toward Simplicity: Pragmatics and Prose (http://inchingsimplicity.blogspot.com), includes both real-life tips and philosophical musings on the effort to simplify. She has been published in The Writer, The Writer’s Handbook 2003, Pregnancy, Pilgrimage, Snowy Egret, Funds for Writers, Writers Weekly, and many other print and online publications. Her first book, Things My Mother Told Me: Reflections on Parenthood, is available on amazon.com.

The Art of Being Awake

Guest blog by Kim Sisto Robinson

The Art of Being Awake

We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand…and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it before it is too late.

-- Marie Beynon Ray

Recently my son, Alex, strolled upstairs and suddenly, without warning, he was six feet tall with an auburn mustache. I felt panic shoot through my body like a kind of adrenaline after a fright—for just yesterday, it appeared, I was changing his diapers, burping him, kissing his beautiful bald forehead, and reading him The Velveteen Rabbit. I still smell the fragrance of baby powder on his skin; feel the heat of his breath on my face.

There appeared to be a beginning and an ending, but somehow, I had missed the middle. Was I sleeping during this transformation? A Buddha was once asked, “Are you God?” “No,” he replied. "Are you an angel then?” they asked. “No,” he replied again. “What are you then?” they asked. “I am awake,” he replied. Obviously, I was not, and when one neglects the middle, they neglect the extraordinary heart of living.

Most people spend their hours worrying about the past and contemplating the future. We try to grasp onto what is slipping away; we try to embrace what is already gone, without success. Why are we so obsessed with yesterday and tomorrow? In the midst of our obsession, we miss out on the present moment, the inhaling and exhaling of moments.

While chatting with my friend the other day, we had discussed how we could make time last longer. “I just can’t figure it out,” my friend said, unsmiling. “I’ve even tried getting up early and going to bed late, but this hasn’t added any more minutes to my day, only exhaustion and black rings under my eyes. It’s as if I’m holding one of those hour glass timers, and the sand is spilling out over all over the place!”

Sometimes I feel as if I am scooping up the spilled sand as urgently as I can, as fast as I can, holding onto as much as I can carry, but the moments have already evaporated. The only thing we can do is love the moments when they hit us directly in the face; gulp them down like long cool drinks.

My son, Alex, was in Pampers just yesterday, and today he could have braided the auburn mustache on his sixteen year old face. Was I too busy rushing through life, grasping onto things that didn’t matter? Admittedly, I was excessively consumed with the past and the future to savor the moments—all of those beautiful, impermanent, irretrievable moments.

Living in the present moment takes practice. One cannot just wake up one morning and exclaim, “Today I am going live in the present moment!” It’s like anything else that makes one healthy; it takes work. Gerry Jampolsky, the founder of the first Attitudinal Healing Center says, “It is possible to focus on peace for just one instant…let your attention come to the quiet in the center of your heart.” This means we need to stop being preoccupied with the past: our should-haves, our could-haves, and our what-ifs. We need to wake up and smell the cappuccino. We need to simply be.

I believe if we lived in the present moment, the mental health field would be almost non-existent. Dwelling on “what was” and “what will be” is the cause of depression, anxiety, stress, and numerous medical disorders. Think about it; how can one be anxious if they discover the peace, which resides within? We have the power to seize every moment and hold it in our hand before it melts!

This is what I know for sure: the breath I’m taking now can never be salvaged; the middle can be filled in by living it; silence is where we find God; letting go of the past will set us free; tranquility is impatiently waiting; staying awake is an art, and nothing truly matters but the breath we are taking now.

Now when I kiss my son on the forehead, instead of smelling of baby powder, he smells of spice, musk, something masculine. I inhale deeply, holding in the perfume as long as I can.


Kim Sisto Robinson is a poet, recent graduate and educator from Duluth, Minnesota. She has a special affection for The International Center for Attitudinal Healing (www.attitudinalhealing.org)

Keep the Heat Inside in Winter:Simple energy-saving window treatments

Guest blog by Maria Hodkins

Living in the country 3 miles outside of a small Western Colorado town, I enjoyed the simplicity of having large windows with open views and no window treatments. Privacy was not an issue, and the majority of large windows faced South, which allowed some solar gain in the winter months. However, last Fall I was compelled to face the obvious loss of heat and increased energy consumption of these bare windows when I overheard part of a radio interview with an energy consultant. He stated that the average home had enough air leaks to equal the heat loss of one 3'x3' window wide left wide open in the winter. Horrified, I began to test areas around the doors and windows of our home, and discovered an obvious flow of cold air coming in around those starkly beautiful big windows. I had to create a block to the air flow and some insulation between the heated house and the cold outside.

My first thought was to make insulated shades for the windows, but after investigating the process and materials, it seemed expensive and overwhelming for my basic sewing skills. To hire someone to make them resulted in the same kind of investment. There had to be a simpler way. I went searching for ideas from my friends, giving them my requirements: heavy cloth to stop the air flow, little or no sewing, and inexpensive materials. One womanfriend had just completed a remodeling project using painters' canvas drop cloths for stair covers, and told me how cheap and available they were. My brain started doing a leap-frog, seeing these off-white, twill-type canvas cloths hanging in front of my windows.

I trekked down to the nearest building supply store and found the panters' canvases for about $10-15 apiece, depending on the size. This was definitely within my budget. By now, I had devised the formula: grommets across the top to hang the coverings; screw-in cup hooks in the top molding to hang the cloth; Velcro to anchor the cloth at the sides and bottom. A simple design. I bought the cloths (if it didn't work, I was only out $40, and could use them for paint cloths or other projects), a grommet-maker, and stick-on Velcro in a roll.



It worked! I laundered the cloths first for shrinkage. Then I punched grommet holes every 10 inches across the top, cut the cloth to fit the width and length of the window (to overlap the window casings), and sewed up a simple seam on any cut edges. I screwed in the hooks, hung the cloths, then pressed on the Velcro strips every 12-15 inches around the sides and bottom. Voila!

The cloths looked great—wrinkles hung out, and they gave the rooms a simple, cottage-like feel. They also let the light in in the mornings. The best, and most surprising result, however, was that when I unzipped the Velcro in any area and held my hand in the gap, the cold air whooshed past in a very tangible way. Closing the Velcro and securing the cloth, my hand felt nothing. It worked!

During the day I raise the cloths by typing a simple piece of white cotton string to 3 of the hooks, and leaving a loop on the other end of each string. Then I hook the string around the cloth, which holds it up like a cloth shade.

A delightful, simple solution to energy-saving window treatments…I think I'll leave them up to help keep the cool inside in the summer, too!


Maria Hodkins is a free-lance writer, artist, naturalist and lives on the Western Slope of Colorado. She believes every moment lived is a form of art, and the natural world is the greatest source of her inspiration. Maria teaches the art of nature journaling in schools, state parks, and art centers, and is "definitely an analog person in a digital world." Simple living and slowing down brings more contentedness to her life as the world continues to get more complex.

Harry Chapin, story teller: 25 years

"When in doubt, do something"
Harry Chapin
(December 7, 1942 – July 16, 1981)

Cats in the Cradle (1974)

My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew
He'd say "I'm gonna be like you dad
You know I'm gonna be like you"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home dad?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

My son turned ten just the other day
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let's play
Can you teach me to throw", I said "Not today
I got a lot to do", he said, "That's ok"
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah
You know I'm gonna be like him"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon....

Well, he came home from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
"Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?"
He shook his head and said with a smile
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon....

I've long since retired, my son's moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"
He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu
But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad
It's been sure nice talking to you"

And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He'd grown up just like me
My boy was just like me

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon....

From a Rolling Stone obituary, September 3, 1981, "Harry Chapin: 1942-1981":

Harry Chapin often described himself as a "third-rate folk singer," and judging from most of the reviews he received in these pages and elsewhere, he wasn't only kidding. Yet Harry Chapin was something more than that. For many who knew him, he was a legitimate hero, not so much for his music as for his consistent and conscientious willingness to fight the right battles, to stand up for a just cause, no matter how hopeless.

When his friends and political associates -- from Mary Rogol and Bill Ayres of World Hunger Year to Ralph Nader and Representative Tom Downey -- spoke of Chapin after his death in an auto accident on the Long Island Expressway July 16th, the word they all used was *fearless*. "It was the one quality of Harry's that I admired most," said Rogol. "Harry was never afraid. Not just physically. Where most people feared embarrassment, being laughed at or rejected, Harry just went right ahead. He just wanted to know what was right and what was the best way to accomplish it. That's real courage."

continued...

Cats in the Cradle
("Verities and Balderdash" album, 1974)

World Hunger Year web site

Is a simple living website hypocritical?

Jon Tillman, at Silent in the Morning, asks a reasonable question. And he provides a thoughtful answer. What do you think?

It has come to my attention via a nasty piece of email that there are people who consider using the internet, and moreover publishing content on it, to be antithetical to "simple living" and "frugal". I will assume that the person who wrote this email does not consider themselves to be living simply or frugal in any way, since that would make them a hypocrite by their own logic.

However, the illiterate screed (aren't they all) got me thinking about the fact that "simplicity", "frugal", "downshifting" and all the rest of the labels we come up with to hang on our varying levels of anti-consumerism have very fuzzy edges, and sometimes fuzzy centers as well. Not many of us can define what those terms mean to us personally, much less what they are supposed to mean.

So, for me personally, does this website, and the tools I use to maintain it constitute an intellectual inconsistency? How can I go on and on about simplifying my life when my internet connection bill is larger than my water bill (I have a cable modem with 1.5meg up and down). Can I honestly, and with authority, write about the simple pleasures in life on a $1500 tablet laptop? How exactly does a wireless mesh network achieve inner harmony and peace?

Well, for me, "simply living", which is what I like to call what I am doing, is not about monastic vows of poverty, though you shouldn't think that I haven't been tempted by that lifestyle. Simply Living is about knowing what your priorities are, and being man (or woman) enough to go through with it, to stop on the side of the racetrack, get out of the SUV, pull out your machete, and hack your own path through the brush to wherever you end up, instead of following soneone else's idea of what you should do.

By that very definition, it is impossible for my computer or internet connection or websites to be hypocritical unless I have specifically stated that I am opposed to such. I have never done this, though I have said on occassion that I think that the world wide web is the worst thing that has ever happened to the world. Of course, I also think it is the best thing that has ever happened too, so don't get me wrong.

I suppose that if someone published a website that advocated in strong terms doing away with all unnecessary expenses in your life in order to achieve some goal, financial or otherwise, and didn't consider an internet connection to be unnecessary to most people, that would be hypocritical. If they charged money for a get out of debt plan that advocated exactly that, and all but required you to have a high-speed internet connection to do so, they would be not only a hypocrite, but an enormous asshole, too. (that ought to be good for some more hate mail from the true believers)

So, no, it isn't necessarily hypocritical to publish a website about simple living, but it is all too human to lash out at anyone who doesn't validate our chosen lifestyle.

Jon writes a most eclectic blog. Not necessarily on simple living, per se, but on this and that and sorta related ideas. Worth checking out. (And I've added a permanent link to it from this site.)

Why live frugally?

Guest blog by Dawn from Frugal for Life.

What is it about being frugal, why do it at all? Actually, some people don’t do it at all, they have decided that what they want and desire is what they are going to get and they feel they deserve it. I have no trouble with that; more power to ya, live long and prosper and may you die with the most toys. However, for me, I find little value in the things around me.

When I was a teenager, things were my identity. However, as I have gotten older and through one situation or another I have learned to separate myself from the items in my home.

Let me give you an example; quite a few years ago I was given a leather jacket, I always wanted one because I thought they were cool and thus, I would be cool. I got it and I loved, I loved it so much I rarely wore it for fear of losing it or ruining it beyond repair. I wanted it to stay ‘new’ and always carry that memory I had of when I first received it and the person who gave it to me. As the years passed and I was in some hard times, I needed money for necessities and didn’t know what to do, until I saw the jacket in the closet in all it’s shiny newness and cleanliness. “I could get some money for that”, I thought. I proceeded to take it to the pawnshop (this was before eBay) and get A LOT less than what in my mind it was worth to me. It killed me to take that jacket in, but I had to and to do it, I had to distance myself from the experience so I could get it done. And surprisingly, I still have the memory of receiving that jacket with no loss of value in my mind.

Since that time, through losses of one thing or another, I learned that my own self worth or value isn’t based on what I have around me. A side note: I in NO way think I am superior than the woman that drives the jag to her 5 bedroom home, in fact, I hope she is happy with her station in life and I wish her well. But for me, I will never aspire to that.

I guess when it comes down to being frugal or not, the question needs to be asked, “Does this fulfill me?” For myself less is more in my world; less to worry about, less to find space for, less to keep up. But, again, that’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Your level of tolerance for less may be higher than mine. I could easily whittle down my needs and wants, throw them in the car and go. That is how little I really need, besides a roof over my head and a steady stream of income.

Frugal living isn’t a dreary task, I think we need to reward ourselves here and there. My luxury is going to the movies and seeing the blockbuster action movies and dramas. But doing that regularly would no longer be a treat, but become a necessity if I could think up enough excuses.

Frugality in my opinion is also about moderation. Moderation is key no matter if I am eating, drinking, watching TV, going to movies or exercising. Excess is what happens when I stop controlling my life and let something else run it. It’s about keeping things in check, whether it’s my reasoning for buying and item or getting caught up in the good feeling a TV commercial gives me. (By the way, I have never gotten good cell phone service in the boonies like the ads show!)

Frugal living is temporary for some until they get back on their feet, for others it is a day to day necessity for who knows how long and for myself and others it is a voluntary decision, wherever you fit in there, I welcome you to the site and hope to see you back again.

Dawn has been blogging since late 2004 at Frugal for Life frugalforlife.blogspot.com

Simple Living

Guest blog by Alexandra Paul

I think the idea of living simply has resonated with me since I was a child, when my dad started us as kids on collecting things. He loved to collect stamps and coins, so he encouraged us to have a collection of some sort, and whenever he went on a business trip he would bring back a glass animal each for my sister and me. But after I was about 11, I realized that when you collect stuff, you are never satisfied. You just want more and more things in your collection. I decided I didn’t want to be endlessly yearning for more stuff and I wanted to be satisfied, so I stopped collecting things.

My desire to live more simply and to acquire fewer “things” began because of my strong environmental ethic, but it has gradually also become a quality of life issue for me. Yes, my life is better because I own fewer things, because I get things fixed instead of purchasing a replacement, and I cull the pages of Ebay and Craig’s List for used items instead of buying new from the store. It is sometimes a pain to get things fixed or to find what you need used - like my husband and I still haven’t found a secondhand kitchen table that fits our home and we have been there a year - but there is something respectful, and respectable, about not just throwing things away and buying new stuff.

It takes work though, to keep the influx of possessions at bay. When I took my phone in to get fixed recently, the guy looked at me and said it would be much cheaper just to buy a new phone, and he thought I was kooky that I didn’t want that. Meanwhile, I was thinking, it ain’t cheaper for the planet, my friend, and my life is richer for spending money on repair. Not spending time buying - which has become a national sport these days, especially among young people - frees me up for other, more important things in life, and makes me more grateful for the possessions I do have.

A couple years ago, I decided I wasn’t going to purchase anything but food and soap for a month. My first reaction was panic – what if I NEED something? But right after that came a calm, knowing that I really already had everything I needed. To know that I had everything I needed gave me an incredible feeling of peace. Because you know, our economy is based on the premise that we are not enough because we don’t have enough, and not buying into that (no pun intended!) was so liberating. And that month wasn’t hard at all – it was great. It wasn’t a sacrifice, it was a gift.

Now, I am an actress living in Los Angeles. Those factors put me under a lot of pressure to keep up with the fashion trends, to live in a big house filled with fabulous furniture. People expect actors to have a lot of money, and to spend it. I read an article in US magazine on a celebrity who said she had to shop every day, and she wasn’t even ashamed of that. In this article it was celebrated like a cool thing to do.

Now, I am no saint – I want to look hip and pretty too, and I wrestle with this whole shopping thing. I had two functions in the last couple weeks that I considered buying new clothes for. I even went shopping once to look for something, but I couldn’t bring myself to purchase anything. I went home and found some things in my closet that made me look... hip and pretty. About 10 years ago, I was at a premiere, going down the red carpet, and a TV reporter said to me, “I saw you in that outfit at an event last week, Alexandra.” My first instinct was to feel embarrassed, that I had been busted, but then I realized that was silly and I was kowtowing to odd societal rules that say you cannot wear the same thing too often or too close together. I told him the truth, that I didn’t have very many dresses and that I thought I looked good in this dress. He didn’t know how to respond.

It is a constant thing my husband, Ian, and I work on. We give each other experiences like massages and picnics, instead of things. We downsized our home last year, and we found we prefer living in a smaller place. I think the best present I ever got was when my sister donated blood in my name for my birthday. When Ian writes me a note telling me why he loves me, that is better than any piece of jewelry. I know that I still have too much stuff, that I still have that niggly feeling sometimes that says I NEED more clothes to be pretty and acceptable. But I am working on it, and being here today, among people like you, is an inspiration.


Actress and activist Alexandra Paul is perhaps best known for her role as Lt. Stephanie Holden in the world famous television series, "Baywatch". She has been a board member and advisor to Simple Living America (formerly Seeds of Simplicity) for several years.

Alexandra's website is www.alexandrapaul.com.