Life forms are incredibly efficient. We constantly transform and optimise ourselves in response to our environment. Each of our biological subsystems, like our brains and muscles and cardiovascular and reproductive systems, constantly tunes itself to its environment. Use it, and it stays strong and healthy. Stop using it, and we lose it. It's our body's way of keeping what's important, and "decluttering" things that aren't used.
This same "use it or lose it" principle can be applied to our possessions, too. There are plenty of web sites out there that will step us through the process of decluttering, and most of them embrace the idea of "use it or lose it". Have something in the garage that you haven't used in a year? Get rid of it!
Living in the woods in a canvas tent has given me a slightly different perspective on this decluttering approach. Turns out that if I don't use something in a year's time or so, then I end up losing it alright...to other creatures!...that are happy to use it for me!
I have a team of helpers for this. Mice are really good. They like the soft stuff that I tuck away under my bed. And they love it when I store things in rarely-opened drawers. Moths are good workers, too. They always find those pants and shirts that I think I'll wear "someday". But for outdoor help, nothing beats black ants. They're not as particular as mice and moths since they're not strictly focused on finding soft fabrics. Instead, they're happy to just set up their homes in places that I don't get into much, like my outdoor plastic container that holds my backpacking gear.
Some of my recent encounters with "use it or lose it" have caused me to look at other English phrases in a different way, too. Old idioms that go back to when we all lived a bit closer to nature. Like "pitch it out", which really means, "you've just discovered an ant nest in your favorite old leather bag that you never use, so grab that sucker and quickly throw it out into the woods". Or "spring cleaning" which means "hey, it's getting warm outside so go through all your stuff and check every nook and cranny for critters building nests".
The good side to all of this is that I'm forced to declutter even further. When I first moved into my small 12' x 14' tent, I had to be pretty brutal about decluttering. I just didn't have room for much. But I still tried to hang onto a few rarely-used items that I thought I might want down the road. And as I've slowly lost some of those items over time, it's given me cause to reconsider. Like even though it was sad to throw out my favorite leather bag, I didn't replace it. So it turns out I didn't really need it anyway. But when I grabbed my golf clubs for the first time in over a year and found it fully of bees, I "pitched out" the old bag, went out and bought a new bag, and proceeded to the driving range.
It's sort of annoying that my little helpers are so incessantly decluttering on my behalf, but I'm curious to see how things turn out. I guess I should thank them for forcing me to consider how important each and every one of my possessions truly are to me.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Missing My Place
It's already the end of June, and it occurs to me that I've spent very little time enjoying my place this month. It's just been one of those months. I've been busy as hell at work, putting in long hours and going straight to bed when I got home. There were a few nights when I didn't even light a candle. Just walked into the dark tent, turned on the flashlight to quickly check for critters, and hoped into bed. I also took 10 days off in June and spent the whole time sitting around the pool with my girlfriend and staying at her place, so I didn't see my place at all during those days (but hey, I'm not complaining!)
The past few days have gotten back to normal. My vacation is over, and work is tapering off. About a week ago I spent the better part of a day getting my place back in order. The weeds had taken over my path and the inside of my tent was in need of a good cleaning. But now things are getting back to normal, and I'm enjoying the tranquillity again.
It's getting hot, too. Not too bad so far, but Summer is certainly here. I'm enjoying the heat so far. It's still in the 70s at night so I'm sleeping fine. I usually leave the door open through the night. I'm enjoying the long evening light, too, but now that we're past the solstice...no, I'm not gonna think about that yet!
The past few days have gotten back to normal. My vacation is over, and work is tapering off. About a week ago I spent the better part of a day getting my place back in order. The weeds had taken over my path and the inside of my tent was in need of a good cleaning. But now things are getting back to normal, and I'm enjoying the tranquillity again.
It's getting hot, too. Not too bad so far, but Summer is certainly here. I'm enjoying the heat so far. It's still in the 70s at night so I'm sleeping fine. I usually leave the door open through the night. I'm enjoying the long evening light, too, but now that we're past the solstice...no, I'm not gonna think about that yet!
Monday, May 13, 2013
Food
I don't have a refrigerator at my place so leftovers are kind of tricky. In late Autumn and early Spring it's easier because I can sit my leftover dinner outside through the day and have the rest the next night. That works in Winter, too, so long as the food will tolerate freezing. And sometimes during Summer, when I have guests over, I put ice in the cooler and cook a bigger meal and again my leftovers will keep for a bit. But usually, I cook a single meal and consume it all.
I don't have much storage either, so I don't really stock up on food. I keep some canned goods on hand, and dry goods like rice and nuts and pasta. Things that tolerate Summer's heat and Winter's cold. In the colder months I keep eggs and cheese and butter and things like that on hand, but more delicate foods, like produce, have to be bought and eaten right away.
I don't make shopping lists anymore, since I buy one meal at a time. And I just make mental notes when I run low on other consumables like toilet paper and paper towels and...well that's about it for other consumables.
My lifestyle forces me to be very deliberate about buying and storing and consuming things, especially food which has to be dealt with immediately. There's no opening the refrigerator door to see what's inside. Instead, as I begin to get a little hungry, I begin lining up my next meal.
I rarely waste food these days. I like that. I like being more in tune with my consumption and not stocking up on things. I'm not sure why that's appealing to me, but I like it. It's sort of that way with everything at my place. I know what I have, and I don't have much so I can keep track of it all. And I know where everything is. It feels good for some reason.
I don't have much storage either, so I don't really stock up on food. I keep some canned goods on hand, and dry goods like rice and nuts and pasta. Things that tolerate Summer's heat and Winter's cold. In the colder months I keep eggs and cheese and butter and things like that on hand, but more delicate foods, like produce, have to be bought and eaten right away.
I don't make shopping lists anymore, since I buy one meal at a time. And I just make mental notes when I run low on other consumables like toilet paper and paper towels and...well that's about it for other consumables.
My lifestyle forces me to be very deliberate about buying and storing and consuming things, especially food which has to be dealt with immediately. There's no opening the refrigerator door to see what's inside. Instead, as I begin to get a little hungry, I begin lining up my next meal.
I rarely waste food these days. I like that. I like being more in tune with my consumption and not stocking up on things. I'm not sure why that's appealing to me, but I like it. It's sort of that way with everything at my place. I know what I have, and I don't have much so I can keep track of it all. And I know where everything is. It feels good for some reason.
Our Endless Desires
On my way to work this morning, I listened to a radio broadcast of a religious sermon. It was about greed and desire and money and property and its relationship to spirituality and I was very moved by it. I'm not particularly religious, but I'm fascinated by religion. I love talking with people about their religious beliefs, and observing how their beliefs impact their lives.
I always look for the common threads that run through religions, and there are many I think. There's always a deep connection to the culture in which the religion is rooted. And the telltale signs of cultural shifts that pushed and pulled the doctrine along the way, keeping it relevant. And of course, the promise of answers to our most difficult questions. Solid, authoritative answers that help quiet our minds and bring us comfort, when the religion is good.
My own beliefs are now a patchwork tapestry, woven from these common threads. The wonderful, colorful teachings of Hinduism with its ancient stories, and its practical teachings of Karma, and Yoga. The Christian teachings of love and compassion and forgiveness. The Four Noble Truths of Buddhism. The self-discipline of Islam. All good and helpful messages.
And perhaps not surprisingly, these common threads seem to align, like warp in a loom. They all seem to point in the same direction, toward spiritual growth. Toward a higher place that promises to make us better. Better for ourselves, and better for each other.
But it's a difficult direction to follow, so our religions try to guide us and help us along the way. They warn us of the pitfalls, like temptation and desire. They encourage us to be strong. They promise reward, and sometimes threaten punishment. All in the name of making us better.
This morning's sermon focused on greed and desire. Boring, right? We've heard it all before, "Greed is bad!" And so it went with this sermon. But then the speaker took an interesting turn. He started to paint a picture of an afterlife. A realm in which possessions could not enter. A place where we are separated from all those things that once made us happy and comfortable. Where not even our bodies are allowed. Where only our spirits may dwell. And that image struck me. Not because I necessarily believe in such an afterlife, but because of the symbolism that it has for this life.
We spend so much of our time struggling to acquire. Hedging ourselves against an uncertain future by accumulating as much as we can each day. We have too much fear, and not enough faith. Our religions warn us about this, but we're too weak or afraid to follow the advice. And so we continue, endlessly searching for pleasures in the niceties of the world, trying to find solace in the knowledge that we are like so many others. And so it goes, and we grow old.
There's a deeper level of satisfaction that we're missing I think. A greater potential that remains unrealized in each of us. And I can't help but see that it's our endless desires that are at the root of our struggles.
I always look for the common threads that run through religions, and there are many I think. There's always a deep connection to the culture in which the religion is rooted. And the telltale signs of cultural shifts that pushed and pulled the doctrine along the way, keeping it relevant. And of course, the promise of answers to our most difficult questions. Solid, authoritative answers that help quiet our minds and bring us comfort, when the religion is good.
My own beliefs are now a patchwork tapestry, woven from these common threads. The wonderful, colorful teachings of Hinduism with its ancient stories, and its practical teachings of Karma, and Yoga. The Christian teachings of love and compassion and forgiveness. The Four Noble Truths of Buddhism. The self-discipline of Islam. All good and helpful messages.
And perhaps not surprisingly, these common threads seem to align, like warp in a loom. They all seem to point in the same direction, toward spiritual growth. Toward a higher place that promises to make us better. Better for ourselves, and better for each other.
But it's a difficult direction to follow, so our religions try to guide us and help us along the way. They warn us of the pitfalls, like temptation and desire. They encourage us to be strong. They promise reward, and sometimes threaten punishment. All in the name of making us better.
This morning's sermon focused on greed and desire. Boring, right? We've heard it all before, "Greed is bad!" And so it went with this sermon. But then the speaker took an interesting turn. He started to paint a picture of an afterlife. A realm in which possessions could not enter. A place where we are separated from all those things that once made us happy and comfortable. Where not even our bodies are allowed. Where only our spirits may dwell. And that image struck me. Not because I necessarily believe in such an afterlife, but because of the symbolism that it has for this life.
We spend so much of our time struggling to acquire. Hedging ourselves against an uncertain future by accumulating as much as we can each day. We have too much fear, and not enough faith. Our religions warn us about this, but we're too weak or afraid to follow the advice. And so we continue, endlessly searching for pleasures in the niceties of the world, trying to find solace in the knowledge that we are like so many others. And so it goes, and we grow old.
There's a deeper level of satisfaction that we're missing I think. A greater potential that remains unrealized in each of us. And I can't help but see that it's our endless desires that are at the root of our struggles.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Free as a Bird
Early this morning I poured my first cup of coffee and stepped outside to greet the day. As I sat on my stoop and sipped my coffee, I started watching the Spring birds. It's the end of April in Virginia and the song birds are busy this time of year. The morning air is full of song, and the sky and trees are full of birds.
Birds live a simple life, as do most creatures of our planet. They eat what the circle of life provides. They drink what falls from the sky. When it's warm, they sit in the sunshine. When it's cold or rainy they seek shelter wherever they can find it. Their social order is as simple as a song. They declare their territory and connect with mates and please nearby humans all with a warble and a caw. And they are free to fly as high as they like, but inexplicably to me, they rarely do.
I used to think about birds a lot, envying their simple ways, and thinking about how they and the other life forms of our planet are so tightly knit into a web of life, while us human remain so removed. Of course we humans still have plenty of advantages like clean and safe housing with automatic temperature control and Internet connections. Plenty of safe food and clean water. And health care and airline transportation and televisions. Things like that. So maybe birds secretly admire our way of life. But I would still trade several of my days in a corporate cubicle for just one day of living as a bird does. And indeed, in some small ways, I've made some of those trades.
Early this morning, I watched the birds and pondered, and having finished my coffee, I went back into my canvas nest and got ready for my corporate job.
Birds live a simple life, as do most creatures of our planet. They eat what the circle of life provides. They drink what falls from the sky. When it's warm, they sit in the sunshine. When it's cold or rainy they seek shelter wherever they can find it. Their social order is as simple as a song. They declare their territory and connect with mates and please nearby humans all with a warble and a caw. And they are free to fly as high as they like, but inexplicably to me, they rarely do.
I used to think about birds a lot, envying their simple ways, and thinking about how they and the other life forms of our planet are so tightly knit into a web of life, while us human remain so removed. Of course we humans still have plenty of advantages like clean and safe housing with automatic temperature control and Internet connections. Plenty of safe food and clean water. And health care and airline transportation and televisions. Things like that. So maybe birds secretly admire our way of life. But I would still trade several of my days in a corporate cubicle for just one day of living as a bird does. And indeed, in some small ways, I've made some of those trades.
Early this morning, I watched the birds and pondered, and having finished my coffee, I went back into my canvas nest and got ready for my corporate job.
Monday, April 22, 2013
One Year at a Time
When I was younger I was a pretty good planner. I had goals and dreams and plenty of ambition. And I worked in the technology field so I knew all about planning. How to define tasks and milestones and identify dependencies and evaluate risks and determine resource needs and manage the critical path and so on. I could spend a few hours filling in project management worksheets and print out the rest of my life as a nice, tidy Gantt chart. Of course, it wasn't always easy predicting how my life would unfold, but that's why mankind invented contingency plans, right?
But what I didn't do very well back then was to track my actual progress against the plans that I made. Yes, I could dream about my future and come up with a brilliant plan that covered all the angles. But then I'd just set the plan aside and go about my life, convinced that I was now prepared for whatever came my way. I never looked back at my old plans to see how well I'd predicted the future. I only came up with new plans, and then convinced myself that my future was under control.
It took me several years, and lots of failed plans, to finally realize that trying to plan out my life was a fool's errand. They say that "life turns on a dime". Well, dimes are pretty small, and I think they're right. Looking back over my life and all the things I tried to plan, all those big things like marriage and children and jobs and homes and retirement and so on, it's now clear to me that life simply happens, regardless of how much we try to execute our plans.
One day not so long ago, I tried to figure out just how far ahead I could plan my life. I listed some of the major events in my life, like getting married, having children, changing jobs, moving to different states, buy and selling houses, ending my marriage, and so on, and I thought about whether I could have planned any of them. In every case, I couldn't see the event coming more than a year ahead. One year I was single, and the next I was married. One year no children, and the next a son. A few years more, and a daughter, then another daughter. I moved from Michigan to Texas, then to Virginia, and never saw those moves coming, either. I woke up one day and my marriage of 33 years was over, and a few months ago I was informed that my job of 25 years was at risk. All big events, and all unplanned. And I'm now convinced, all unplannable.
So I just stopped making plans. Well, not exactly. I still try to plan a year ahead. It took me awhile to stop looking so far into the future and to just live one year at a time, but now that I do I really enjoy it. Friends sometimes ask me things like, "Are you going to retire soon? What if you lose your job? What would you do?" I tell them that I have no plans, and that I just deal with things as they come.
Before I became comfortable living a year at a time, I first had to learn to let go. I had to acknowledge that my prior attempts at long-term planning didn't really work for me anyway, and that it was okay to just let go and trust. To have faith that the world would always have a place for me. And now that I view the world this way, my faith has strengthened accordingly.
I only plan a year at a time now, which means I don't really do much planning at all, but hey, I still do some! And every April, I plan my next year of tent living. That's because I pay my rent a year in advance, and April is "rent month". So later this week, I'll be paying another year's rent.
So if things work out according to plan, I'll be living in my tent in Brandy Station for another year. After that...?
But what I didn't do very well back then was to track my actual progress against the plans that I made. Yes, I could dream about my future and come up with a brilliant plan that covered all the angles. But then I'd just set the plan aside and go about my life, convinced that I was now prepared for whatever came my way. I never looked back at my old plans to see how well I'd predicted the future. I only came up with new plans, and then convinced myself that my future was under control.
It took me several years, and lots of failed plans, to finally realize that trying to plan out my life was a fool's errand. They say that "life turns on a dime". Well, dimes are pretty small, and I think they're right. Looking back over my life and all the things I tried to plan, all those big things like marriage and children and jobs and homes and retirement and so on, it's now clear to me that life simply happens, regardless of how much we try to execute our plans.
One day not so long ago, I tried to figure out just how far ahead I could plan my life. I listed some of the major events in my life, like getting married, having children, changing jobs, moving to different states, buy and selling houses, ending my marriage, and so on, and I thought about whether I could have planned any of them. In every case, I couldn't see the event coming more than a year ahead. One year I was single, and the next I was married. One year no children, and the next a son. A few years more, and a daughter, then another daughter. I moved from Michigan to Texas, then to Virginia, and never saw those moves coming, either. I woke up one day and my marriage of 33 years was over, and a few months ago I was informed that my job of 25 years was at risk. All big events, and all unplanned. And I'm now convinced, all unplannable.
So I just stopped making plans. Well, not exactly. I still try to plan a year ahead. It took me awhile to stop looking so far into the future and to just live one year at a time, but now that I do I really enjoy it. Friends sometimes ask me things like, "Are you going to retire soon? What if you lose your job? What would you do?" I tell them that I have no plans, and that I just deal with things as they come.
Before I became comfortable living a year at a time, I first had to learn to let go. I had to acknowledge that my prior attempts at long-term planning didn't really work for me anyway, and that it was okay to just let go and trust. To have faith that the world would always have a place for me. And now that I view the world this way, my faith has strengthened accordingly.
I only plan a year at a time now, which means I don't really do much planning at all, but hey, I still do some! And every April, I plan my next year of tent living. That's because I pay my rent a year in advance, and April is "rent month". So later this week, I'll be paying another year's rent.
So if things work out according to plan, I'll be living in my tent in Brandy Station for another year. After that...?
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Early Spring
Each season has it's charm. The dark greens and long, hot days of Summer. Autumn's cool nights dressed in reds and yellows. Winter's short, white, windy days spent near a warm fire. And Spring, with its light greens and soft pastels. Open the windows, listen to the birds, and feel the sunshine warm your skin!
The coming of Spring brings immediate changes to tent living. With daytime temperatures in the 70s, I leave my door open now. The stall scent of wood stove smoke that permeated my canvas walls all Winter is slowly disappearing. And small friends that I haven't seen since Autumn are popping up for a visit already. So far it's spiders and stink bugs, but more to come later. It's seems it only took one warm day to wake up the spiders. And now that they're awake, they're busy casting their webs across my path again, just as they had last year, leaving me little reminders that warm weather is here again, and that I'd better get used to clearing the webs from my face as I pass through them.
The larger animals are back, too. More birds. And the deer are settled back in. I'll probably see turkey soon, as I did last year. I don't want to think about the ticks yet. Or the mice. But they're all coming, now that Spring is here.
The coming of warm weather brings lifestyle changes, too. Soon I'll be carrying in more water, trying to stay cool. But there's an upside, too. The nights are longer and warmer, so it's time to open up the outside living space and have some friends over! And it's time to pull the wood stove out and set up my indoor living room!
When I installed my wood stove last December, I had to clear out my living area to make room. I was able to keep a small rocking chair off to the side but that was about it. I also pulled up the rug to keep it away from sparks.
Now that Spring is here, the wood stove is out and the rug and furniture are back in!
Spring is my favorite season. The short, cold days of Winter are behind, and the hot Summer days and nights are still ahead. Spring brings me back to life, just like the creatures that I live with.
But I gotta say, I'm starting to miss my cold Winter beers already :)
The coming of Spring brings immediate changes to tent living. With daytime temperatures in the 70s, I leave my door open now. The stall scent of wood stove smoke that permeated my canvas walls all Winter is slowly disappearing. And small friends that I haven't seen since Autumn are popping up for a visit already. So far it's spiders and stink bugs, but more to come later. It's seems it only took one warm day to wake up the spiders. And now that they're awake, they're busy casting their webs across my path again, just as they had last year, leaving me little reminders that warm weather is here again, and that I'd better get used to clearing the webs from my face as I pass through them.
The larger animals are back, too. More birds. And the deer are settled back in. I'll probably see turkey soon, as I did last year. I don't want to think about the ticks yet. Or the mice. But they're all coming, now that Spring is here.
The coming of warm weather brings lifestyle changes, too. Soon I'll be carrying in more water, trying to stay cool. But there's an upside, too. The nights are longer and warmer, so it's time to open up the outside living space and have some friends over! And it's time to pull the wood stove out and set up my indoor living room!
When I installed my wood stove last December, I had to clear out my living area to make room. I was able to keep a small rocking chair off to the side but that was about it. I also pulled up the rug to keep it away from sparks.
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| Living room with wood stove installed |
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| Living room without wood stove |
But I gotta say, I'm starting to miss my cold Winter beers already :)
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