I keep laughing at myself as I question what the lifestyle is that I want to live and getting overwhelmed thinking about the changes it will require. Right now, I want to disengage from handing money to the monopolies that rule our purchasing and communications—the ones that pushed us into faster lifestyles and more extreme and polarized emotional states–but it’s almost as if . . .
~~ I forgot how ~~
I have always considered myself “counterculture.” It had a nice rebellious ring to it that allowed me to choose what felt good to me. Because it was just for me, I never pushed my lifestyle, but I was happy to talk about it when asked. In fact, this is the first time I am really speaking some of it out loud . . .
When the kids were young, we worked at an area farm for a farm share. It was important to me that my kids knew where food came from. I grew food at our home as well—veggies, raspberries, cherries. I never got into preserving food (ugh, those days were my worst hot and miserable childhood memories, so I doubt I will ever cross that line) but we always had the freshest food in season.
I loved my clothesline. I made homemade laundry and dish detergents (and it was cheaper and took less time than clipping a coupon and walking down a grocery store aisle, so don’t think I was working hard here). For quite awhile, I refused to waste a drop of water, even catching my shower water to flush our toilets in our nice suburban home (witnessing a grey water recycling system in Thailand inspired this choice). I had rain barrels (my husband has shut those down temporarily in the last year, but this a problem that can be solved). I was the original VSCO minus the attitude—carrying my filtered water everywhere.
I had the never-overplanned play dates and parties where kids just did what kids do. We did nature every day. My kids were incensed the first time they saw a commercial because we rarely watched TV for about the first decade of their lives (it was pretty funny, “Mom, they are SELLING TO ME!!”). I was the pre-school mom who bought the reusable plates and cups and always brought them for snack times even though it meant dishes.
Cleaning those dishes felt like an intentional meditation.
I was the “young” yoga teacher in town among many older gems (and it was still a time where being a yoga teacher was weird). I was crunchy before it became cool and then uncool but popular again.
I refused to get a cell phone until 2010s, and even then, I started with an ipod where people could only text me if I was near wifi, to the chagrin of my business partner. I was one of the first to the internet and the last to Facebook, even though I could program and diagnose your computer because I was a firm tech fan without the tech “drive” that impacts us all now.
I was ever-barefoot and always had a cloth bag at the ready, and got rid of all my plastic containers years before anyone had heard of BPA. We struggled with our health, and through trial, error, research and experimentation, had concluded that gluten and dairy were culprits to be eliminated back when the only alternatives were rice cakes and social isolation. I seriously studied up on how to convert my diesel car to burn fast food oil, but pulled short when I imagined smelling French fries full time and dumpster diving at McDonalds.
This is the pace that made me happy—country girl turned science geek turned suburban mom = quirky hippie weirdo with zero flare or need for attention. It was just what I did.
I grew up in a time before all the things that made our lives so fast-paced–spontaneous and simple was a way of living.
So I warmly remember when Hurricane Ivan blew through Cincinnati leaving days of no electricity in its wake, and feeling, “I know how to do this lifestyle, and I love it.” It inspired me to invite our neighbors for monthly cookouts and volleyball in my back yard! I felt the same, even as everyone else rebelled against quarantine. In my wheelhouse, I bought beans and rice before anyone thought that far out, already had my local farm meat and veggies and homemade gluten free bread in hand (how incensed I became when I couldn’t get yeast because everyone else started making bread—it literal inspired a Facebook rant), and we hunkered down in style.
But these moments are also moments that pulled me further and further into technology and the fast pace! Especially quarantine! Suddenly I was in social media all the time, moved my business to Zoom, set up learning portals and websites and video platforms and electronic paperwork systems and . . . I worked hard to build online communities for greater connection. I wasn’t allowed to use my cloth bags anymore, so suddenly plastic was back in our lives. Shoot—I actually managed to lose my cloth bags in that time (my husband randomizes sometimes)! And we moved out of our local purchasing and leaned ever more strongly into Amazon and not even stepping into grocery stores. We joined the stream binging crowd. And lordy, truth be told, if I have to bend over and deal with weeds after June 20th—well, let’s just say that I have a short attention span paired with the best of intentions in the garden, and I shifted to containers and battling with the raccoons over who gets the first taste of the produce.
So here’s my question: How did they manage to convince someone like me that this rushed lifestyle is where it’s at? How is it that I became so convinced, that the thought of finding a new local supplement source (my main Amazon purchase) feels overwhelming when it used to feel grounded in my priorities?
HOW DID WE BUY INTO ALL OF THIS?!?
I am ready to make some changes, and I wonder if you are as well? I’ve tried their proposed pace, and I’m certain it’s making us all unwell. Let’s be honest, we’ve known this all along! Maybe now is the time we start talking about these things—things that help our mental health and impact our world by slowing down and not buying into what we are being sold as the ultimate consumer nation. I’m not asking you to catch your shower water (frankly, that 5-gallon bucket is harder to manage as you get older), but I do wonder if you are ready to make the changes that bring you into greater alignment with your values? I wonder if a little counterculture rebellion feels like the right kind of protest?