Gatineau Park, January 2012 |
These days, I'm inclined to think of things a bit differently. It's not about being okay with not having anything because I can't have anything, it's about being okay with having nothing because, in reality, the physical things don't really matter that much. The things I do have, I appreciate. A lot. And the things I don't have? Well, I probably don't need them. I don't want to need them. If I need them, then I need a means to get them, which means I need money. And money, my friends, is probably a thing I am not going to be blessed with in my life. Not if I can help it, anyway.
Community Garden mural at Bank and Laurier, Ottawa. |
See, I tried living for things, for a while. I tried really hard. And it was fun there, at times. But I wasn't happy. And over time, I began to realize that what made me happy had nothing to do with acquiring belongings. It was the way I lived that brought me pleasure, joy, and contentment-- or not, as the case was, back then. It felt wrong to drive 20 km to work every day to a job I didn't love at a company that sells people things they don't really need (nothing against that particular company, though! All companies do that. That's how the system works). I didn't feel like I was connected to anything real. Except, that is, when I pulled out those seed catalogues, and those garden planning books, and starting soaking up knowledge about how to become self-sufficient. I didn't even do it consciously. I just wanted to have a garden because I like food and cooking and growing things. But in hindsight, I see the logic behind it all. If I don't have to buy food, then I don't have to have a job I don't love, and I can do what I love all day, if I want to. I can grow food.
Cozumel, Mexico |
I took a risk, and I tried it out. I lived with nothing. I grew food, and I spent a great deal of time alone, and I wandered around in the woods, and sang to myself, and I dug in the dirt, and laid on the grass in the rain, and finally-- finally!-- I felt real.
I've been living with very little for some time now. I would love to spend the money left over from each pay cheque on exotic foods, but I don't. I get just as much pleasure from digging out a 4 month old squash that I grew myself, and turning it into dinner. And I keep the money I save, to pay off my debts. And I feel a sense of satisfaction when I take a delicious bite of a potato, onion, carrot and kale stir fry seasoned with paprika and garlic, because most of those ingredients are items I grew myself.
Vanderwater Park, December 2011 |
I don't need money. At least, not much of it. If it weren't for the system we live in, I wouldn't need any at all. The less reliant on money I get, the better I feel. So I've decided it's time for another life experiment. Recently, I had to make a [self-imposed] choice between going West to make money, and heading East to learn how to be more self-sufficient. I chose the latter.
It was a long road, but it was a good one. [ancient Mayan ruins] |
And I am more certain about this about anything I have ever known before: I'm going to be happy. I am happy. I've finally made that choice.