Practicing Simplicity

Having defined voluntary simplicity and offered a few words on why we might embrace it as a living strategy, it is important, I think, to say at least a few words about the practice of simplicity, about ‘how’ exactly one might go about simplifying one’s life, and ‘how’ one might try to live the idea, if one were convinced that this way of life was desirable.

I will, however, be very brief on this aspect of simplicity, not because it isn’t important. Obviously, it is very important. But the fact is that there is no Doctrine or Code of Simplicity to follow, as such. There is no Method or Equation of Simplicity into which we can plug the facts of our lives and be told how to live. That is precisely what the idea cannot do – but perhaps that suits your disposition as well as it does mine.

Voluntary simplicity, as I have said, is more about questions than answers, which implies that practicing simplicity calls for creative interpretation and personalized application. It is not for me, therefore, or for anyone, to prescribe universal rules on how to live simply. We each live unique lives, and we each find ourselves in different situations, with different capabilities, and different responsibilities. Accordingly, the practice of simplicity by one person, in one situation, will very likely involve different things to a different person, in a different situation. But, as I have implied, I do not think that this practical indeterminacy is an objection to the idea.

With that proviso noted, allow me say a few general and very brief words on what a simple life might look like and how one might begin to live it.

Money: Although living simply is much more than just living cheaply and consuming less – it is also a state of mind – spending wisely plays an important role. The following exercise may surprise you: Over a one month period, record every purchase you make, and then categorize your expenses. Multiply each category by twelve to get a rough estimate of the annual cost. Then consider how much of your time and energy you spent obtaining the money required to buy everything you consumed that month. Question not only the amount of money you spent on each category, but also the categories on which you spent your money. You might find that seemingly little purchases add up to an inordinate amount over a whole year, suggesting that the money might be better spent elsewhere, not at all, or exchanged for more time by working less. One does not have to be a tightwad, as such, only thoughtful. ‘The cost of a thing,’ after all, ‘is the amount of life which is required to be exchanged for it.’[i] You may find that some small changes to your spending habits, rather than inducing any sense of deprivation, will instead be life-affirming.[ii]

And when it comes to spending our money we should always bear in mind Vicki Robin’s profound democratic insight: That how we spend our money is how we vote on what exists in the world. If this is true, then the global middleclass has the potential to become a non-violent revolutionary class and change the world, simply by changing its spending habits. Money is power, and with this power comes responsibility.

I repeat: How we spend our money is how we vote on what exists in the world.

Shelter: Housing or accommodation is typically life’s greatest expense, so we should think especially carefully about where we live and why, and how much of our lives we are prepared to spend seeking a nicer home. Exactly what kind of shelter does one need to live well and to be free? Obviously, we must answer this question for ourselves, but again the words of Henry David Thoreau might give us a moment’s pause: ‘Most people appear never to have considered what a house is, and are actually though needlessly poor all their lives because they think that they must have such a one as their neighbors have.’[iii] The individual or family who today is admired for a large and luxurious house might find that our culture comes to admire those who have learned how to combine functional simplicity and beauty in a smaller, much more modest, home.[iv]

Clothing: The historic purpose of clothing, of course, was to keep us warm and, in time, for reasons of modesty. Today its primary purpose seems to be fashion and the conspicuous display of wealth and status. People can, of course, spend thousands and thousands of dollars on clothing if they want, in search of themselves. But we should never forget that functional, second-hand clothing can be obtained extremely cheaply. And those who ‘dress down’ often express themselves more uniquely than those who are limited to the styles found in shopping malls or who try to imitate celebrities. Many hundreds of billions of dollars are spent each and every year on the fashion industry. Just imagine if even half of that money was redirected towards green energy or humanitarian initiatives? We would lose so little and gain so much.

Once again, how we spend our money is how we vote on what exists in the world.

Food: Eating locally, eating green, eating out in moderation, eating less meat, eating simply and creatively – I know by experience this can be done very cheaply. Given some thought and a little discipline, a good diet can be obtained at a surprisingly low cost, especially if you are able to cultivate your own garden, which is a very natural and strangely satisfying thing to do.

Work: I have just outlined, with a very broad brush, a voluntarily simplistic perspective on acquiring the most basic necessities of life – shelter, clothing, and food. Once upon a time these necessities could be obtained by hunting and gathering in the commons, but in our day and age, of course, they must be obtained through economic transactions in the marketplace, usually through the medium of money, which we must work to acquire. It is important to consider, therefore, however briefly, the question of employment.

When it comes to work, we would do well, I believe, to more carefully put our minds to the question of what our time is worth. For once we have obtained the necessities of life, and have acquired a few comforts appropriate for a dignified life, there is another alternative than to spend our lives working to obtain material superfluities. And that is to pass up those superfluities and instead ‘adventure on life now,’ as Thoreau would say, ‘our vacation from humbler toil having commenced.’[v] From the perspective of voluntary simplicity, this exchange of money for time will often prove to be a very good trade.

If we keep raising our standard of living every time we come into more money, through a raise, for example; or if we keep raising our standard of living every time we become more productive, through some new technological development, for example; then we will never shorten our working week. Most westerners, especially North Americans, are working longer hours today than they were in the 50s,[vi] despite being many times richer and many times more productive. Why should we always be working for more consumer products and not sometimes be content with less? Why should we not accept a lower standard of living and work half as much? Who can say what wonders such a cultural style might not bring! The immediate point is simply that if we can embrace the simple life and stop the upward creep of material desire, then we can take some of our pay increases or increases in productivity, not in terms of dollars and things, but in ‘freedom’ instead. Again, this seems like it would be a very good trade – a no-brainer, even. But history suggests that most westerners will choose otherwise. The ruts of conformity run deep.

A Thumbnail Sketch: A comprehensive guide to simple living would obviously require much more space than is available here, so let me just round off this part of my discussion by summarizing what simple living tends to involve. It tends to involve thoughtful thrift and environmentally and socially conscientious spending habits. It can involve recognizing that there is no good reason for desperately trying to ‘keep up with the Joneses,’ since modest accommodation and few possessions are perfectly sufficient to live a free and happy life. Simple living can involve buying secondhand clothing and furniture, creating one’s own style, and rejecting high fashion. It might involve cultivating a garden, eating simply, locally, and creatively, and discovering that doing so can be both cheap and satisfying. And it might involve riding a bike instead of driving a car, choosing a washing line over a dryer, or even something as simple as choosing a book over television. Rather than stay at a luxurious resort, the simple liver might spend $12 a night bush camping in midst of nature. Rather than work long hours to afford a life dedicated to consumption, the simple liver might step out of the rush and reduce working hours, freeing up more time to paint, play the piano, meditate, spend with family, read, walk in Nature, etc. Rather than choose competition, the simple liver is likely to choose community. Not money, but meaning. And so on and so forth, until the very elements of life have been transformed.

Despite these tentative remarks on how to practice simplicity, I wish to reiterate that there is not one way to live the simple life, and that anyone who wishes to embrace simplicity must be prepared to think over the idea for oneself, until it takes root in personal experience. I am convinced, however, both by faith and by experience, that if someone is genuinely committed to the idea of simplicity then that person, with a little courage and some imaginative effort, will find a way to shape a simple life of their own. Start with a few small steps, enjoy the adventure, and soon enough your life has changed.