Slow down, take stock and find your way

We spend so much time in default mode, operating on the conditions that seem required by modern life. But are they required? Is this way of life inevitable? What happens if we slow down, take stock, and find our own way?

“Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify.” ― Henry David Thoreau, Walden and Other Writings

In July 1845, Henry David Thoreau moved a mile and half away from the city of Concord Massachusetts to a small cabin he built for himself in the woods on the shore of Walden Pond. He went, as he famously wrote, “because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary.”

With the release in March of a new three-part PBS series on Thoreau’s life, I’ve been thinking about this idea of separating what is life from what isn’t and about the ways in which we practice resignation unnecessarily. 

Thinking about our default mode

For so many, the default is convenience. Why? Because the larger default is grind culture. We go and go and go—and we train our kids to do the same.

To oversimplify the issue: We trade work outside the home for money that allows us to buy the conveniences necessary to spend our time working outside of home. It’s circular, and therefore neverending.

When we’re not working, we’re running around doing chores and extra activities, often using cars and fuel to criss-cross our communities, windows up and in a hurry.

We hustle and hurry and run. And we fuel the hustle with conveniences. It’s the default mode. 

The world is, to put it mildly, very complex and troubling at times. When I look at the forces that make it that way, I wonder if we have resigned ourselves collectively to a fate that isn’t inevitable. From overwork at desk jobs to climate disaster, the future is not foretold. Much is within our collective power to change. 

Thoreau believed that “what is called resignation is confirmed desperation” and that paring back life to the most essential was to escape a life of “quiet desperation.”

And while he lived before cars or even widespread electric light, he understood a fundamental difference between a life lived deliberately and thoughtfully for the purpose of living itself and a life lived on a default mode designed to support an unwieldy and destructive global system.

Can we find for ourselves the most essential elements of a good life, then reduce or eliminate the nonessential?  I think we can. And we don’t have to escape to live in the woods for two years to do it, though more power to you if you can. 

The essential things of life

“I would not have any one adopt my mode of living on any account ... I desire that there may be as many different persons in the world as possible; but I would have each one be very careful to find out and pursue his own way.” — Henry David Thoreau

I want a simple spring followed by a simple summer. I want to know for myself the minimum requirement for a good life. And yes, what’s essential for me might not be what’s essential for you. But I’m willing to bet that we’ll all have some overlap. 

Let’s take stock. Food and shelter seem obvious for the essentials list. Clothing too, though to a far lesser degree than most of our closets suggest. For me, there’s also time in nature and time shared with family, friends and my community. I think nature and community are probably essential to the whole enterprise for all of us. We simply can’t make a better world by staying isolated from one another. 

Food, home, nature, community. With this list, what can I simplify and what deserves my time and energy? Like most people, I’m not going to leave home and build a cabin in the woods to live in. We’ll stay in our home in the city. We’ll still shop at grocery stores and use electric lights. Though we could do both of those far less than we do. 

What can I simplify? Here are a few thoughts from my own reflections, as I seek to carve my own simpler path to a better world. 

Food

According to the Food and Environmental Reporting Network, “Nearly a pound of food per day in every household gets tossed in America — a country with some 44 million food insecure people.” Taking stock of my fridge and pantry, there’s a lot there that hasn’t been used or touched in some time. Some of it I don’t remember buying. 

Food waste is not inevitable, nor is food insecurity. We can buy far less, eat what we have on hand, eat more plants and less meat, grow some food of our own and spend time in the kitchen preparing it.  Even Thoreau shopped in town at the grocer! But he kept detailed records to know precisely what he needed to live a life he found satisfying. And that is likely far less than what we currently buy. 

And when we do have extra, critically, we can share it or compost it to keep it out of landfills. 

Fuel and energy

Along with rethinking our relationship with convenience foods and waste, electricity and fuel is another area where our consumption has come to feel inevitable when it is not. 

How many of my car trips could actually be accomplished by walking or taking public transit? Or by carpooling? Or by not taking the trip at all? And with the price of gas these days, I suspect more people are finding that some of their car trips are not necessary at all. 

In terms of other energy use: I took a walk through my  home and noticed every single item that requires electricity—from lamps to cell phones to kitchen gadgets. I both was and wasn’t surprised by how many things I provide energy that aren’t needed and don’t return the favor. I can unplug these, turn them off, or use them less. 

Time

Yes, this one is much slipperier to account for. But to know what is nonessential, I wanted to walk through my days seeing how I spend time. Have you ever kept a time log for a week or two? It’s enlightening to see where the hours and minutes of our days go. There’s so much that, when put on paper, seems completely unnecessary.  

Then, in quiet moments, when I feel the inner urge to do something, be productive, check something off the list, go somewhere, fill the time, fill the space—why? Is that a true need or some kind of societal code that is in need of breaking? 

Entertainment

I wondered, how much of our personal entertainment preferences are actually functions of our general exhaustion? I am most fulfilled gardening, dancing, creating, cooking, hiking, playing games, reading or volunteering. When I’m exhausted? It’s TV, takeout and social media instead.

Entertainment doesn’t have to be expensive, passive, or novel. As I look to simplify, I can spend more time in nature, reading, walking or doing nothing. I can picnic with friends, volunteer my time, and do that which replenishes my soul. And yes, sometimes that’s watching a show with my loves — because it brings joy and closeness, not because we’re too tired to do anything else.

Not perfect, but better

Most people can’t pull a Thoreau and head to the woods. Even Thoreau visited friends and family in town, shopped for what he needed when he couldn’t make it himself, and moved back to society after two years in the woods. 

But what he learned lasted a lifetime and was passed on to us. When you simplify as much as you can, when you pare back to the essentials of your own life, you can hear yourself and know yourself and understand with more clarity what you need to have a truly good life.

What if we were all armed with that knowledge? What would come of the fast-paced, convenience-driven consumer culture that drives the modern world?

I’d love to find out.