How much is enough? At what point are you no longer buying your house for you, but for the high opinions of your friends and neighbors? When do you stop owning things, and things begin to own you?
With the exception of the Gospels, no book has had a larger impact in my life than Walden by Henry David Thoreau. His “experiment” has entered the American mythos; how he “went to the woods to live deliberately”, how he built a shack and lived there, largely self sufficient for a shade over 2 years, always asking himself those sort of questions and writing down the answers he found.
Thoreau was a man with an insatiable curiosity and was a tireless reporter of his surroundings. As a pimply faced, un-confident 16 year old, the advice he gave me was not only good, but in a real sense, lifesaving.
Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler.
A good friend of mine (Hey Kim!) is reading Walden right now, and she was blogging about it yesterday. She recounts one of my favorite stories from Walden; the tale of the three rocks.
Henry (as I like to call him) was on an outing and found three pieces of limestone. He put them upon his desk, because he liked the way they looked (Haven’t we all done that? Maybe it was not a rock, but a geegaw we got at the flea market, or that broken music box, or the three months of newspaper you have in the corner). In any event, it was not long until Henry discovered that he did not just get rocks, but he now had a job dusting rocks, moving rocks, looking at rocks. In a fit of disgust, he threw the rocks away. You see, he had discovered that he no longer owned the rocks, the rocks now owned him…
Possesions have a way of owning us. That new car is not just a payment of $350 a month to the finance company. It is also oil changes, insurance premiums, pumping gas, the car wash, worry over nicks and dings… When you buy a car, you buy all that as well.
In addition, Henry talked about valuing things by the amount of life energy it cost you to get them. A some quick examples may serve here.
Most everyone trades time for money. Some do it directly, such as getting paid $10 an hour, while others (such as myself) are paid more for results, but those results still take time to produce. Let us say our hypothetical person has an hourly value of $20.
If that is true, then that $60 coat you want costs 3 hours of your life. You will never get those 3 hours back. They are gone. That $800 computer is 40 hours of your life, or almost 2 full days of your life. If someone told you they would give you the computer for free, but you would have to die two days before your time, would you be willing to do it? No? Well, that is what you did. That $200 games system cost you 10 hours away from your children.
By looking at things this way, the value (or lack of it) becomes real clear, real fast. I am unwilling to shave 20 hours off my life each month in exchange for the privilege of driving a new car; I refuse to trade 3 hours a week in exchange for a meal at the finest restaurants; you will not see me surrender two hours of my life for a pair of fashionable pants. Not when I will be just as warm in a pair that cost me only 15 minutes, leaving me an hour and forty five minutes of life to watch children play, to see the sun come up, to sip coffee and read a poem.
I think Henry would agree.