Home Maintenance

When I lived in a conventional house, I used to spend my weekends working my "to do" list. (Yes, I actually had a "to do" list!) I spent much of my Saturdays and Sundays fixing leaky faucets, repairing broken windows, clearing clogged drains, mowing the grass, cleaning gutters, painting, stuff like that. Then there were those big items on the list that I'd look at and think about, but then find some reason not to do. Like cleaning the garage, or clearing brush, or repairing a broken downspout. Bigger tasks that had to get done someday but could be put off.

As soon as I'd check a few items off the list, more would appear. The dishwasher would break, or the roof would start leaking, or the deck would need repair. It was endless, and I never got ride of my "to do" list.

Until I moved into a tent.

Now, I don't have a lawn. I don't have major appliances. I don't have faucets or plumbing. I don't have anything that requires painting. I do have a door, but no windows or screens. I don't even have a roof (well, I have a tarp, so I suppose that's a roof). And best of all, I don't have a "to do" list! Or maybe I have an empty "to do" list, which is even better!

Home maintenance is an ongoing struggle against Nature. An unmaintained house left to the elements will eventually deteriorate into dust. It's the result of the fundamental relationship between Nature and Life. Nature want to break down, Life wants to build. Nature wants to disintegrate, Life wants to integrate. And so it is with our own bodies, and so it is with all that we construct, including our houses. Without Life, all that we are and all that we have ever created becomes, at some point in time, dust.

To enter into home ownership is therefore to enter into this struggle against Nature. So I don't fight Nature much anymore. Instead, I try to enjoy it and live humbly within its rules. I don't swim upstream, fighting the current. I let go, and go with the flow.

But even my humble tent must be maintained, as all man-made objects must. The rain fly is by far my biggest maintenance item. The tarp has to be replaced every few years at a cost of around $400 and a few hours work. And although I don't try to keep grass from growing and therefore don't mow, I do pull the tall weeds on either side of my path every month or so as they begin to encroach. But that's about it.

Of course, there are still routine chores like fetching water, gathering wood in the winter, cooking, washing dishes, keeping my oil lamps full, emptying my tent toilet, so on. And in fact, I spend a lot of time and effort on these tasks, much more than in a conventional house. But somehow these menial tasks don't bother me. They help remind me that perhaps I'm on the right track, because water is precious and should be used sparingly, and Winter's cold should be respected, and human waste does not just magically disappear with the push of a lever.

Tent living allows me to live in harmony with Nature, and reminds me of the true and direct costs of keeping my body healthy and alive.