Out of Chaos
an organizing newsletter

September 2006 - Issue No. 14

A Year Without Buying

 

I recently read an amazing book by Judith Levine called Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping. Levine and her partner decided to see if they could manage a year without buying anything. They set up rules regarding food purchases (nothing pre-made, only ingredients, no restaurants, no coffee-to-go and so forth). While going a year without purchasing anything may seem a little extreme, one of the great benefits of Levine's experiment is the consciousness it gave her about our consumer culture, how oblivious we are as we buy and buy and buy.

Often, when I'm with a client, we come across shopping bags of items purchased but never used. Tucked away for months, or even years, they are a vivid reminder of how detached from need, or even true desire, our buying is. After all, if it were something we truly desired, we would have remembered to take it out of the shopping bag-- right?

This book is funny (an argument about the necessity of wine is won by a quote from Thomas Jefferson, but not before they learn to brew beer) and Levine is honest about the ways they would “cheat” by letting friends buy forbidden items. Levine's point is not that we should all stop shopping, but that by being more conscious consumers, we will not only use our money more wisely, we will also enhance our enjoyment of life.

Try this: Okay, so we don't want to go a year without shopping. But can we go a day? Choose a day in the next month and see if you can keep your cash and credit cards in your wallet. At the end of the day review the experience. Is there anything you saved yourself from buying that would have been a mistake? Did you feel deprived? Did you cheat? Understanding our relationship to buying can help us to be more conscious consumers--which can only be good.

To the Parents

Recently I read a New York Times article in which a college student explained that the reason he did so poorly freshman year was that he was overwhelmed by learning to take care of himself: doing his laundry, eating and waking up in time for class. I think it is easy in these highly competitive times to focus on making sure our kids are taking chess and doing well on their SATs. However, if we aren't teaching them to make their beds and to file their papers, it seems to me that we are failing to teach them other important life skills.

Space saver: I finally had the opportunity to try those space-saver bags (the ones where they vacuum the air out) that they advertise on television. They really did seem to work on blankets and quilts. I'm not sure how clothes would fare over a long time, but I think I might get some for all the hand-me-downs I have, and I'll let you know. In the meantime, I definitely would recommend them for linen closets. They make each blanket take up less space, and if you were trying to fit a bunch of blankets on a shelf they would be easier to stack in these plastic bags, than if they were just folded.

Too Many Choices

Is there such a thing as too many choices? Anyone who has ever seen a child's eyes glaze over in a toy store when faced with the directive to pick one, knows that there is. As I was once again stymied by my uncharacteristically backlogged photo album situation, I realized that the digital camera was holding me back because it was offering me too many options. Delete or save? Print or don't print? Print 2x3, 4x6 or 5x7? Sepia tone anyone? Back in the good old days I didn't have so many options. I took the pictures, dropped them off, picked them up, pitched the bad ones and put the rest in the album. Finito. I realized that my paralysis was a result of the very multitude of options that are supposed to make digital cameras so great. So, to get beyond my inertia, I decided to limit my options. Everything 4x6. Everything color. It made me think about what other things might be simplified by removing some of our choices. Fewer clothes could make getting dressed easier in the morning. I often think that people who are consistently able to eat very healthfully have just made a decision to eliminate certain things from their diets, whether it be refined sugar or meat, and that decision simplifies their choices. It reminds me too of the advice I have given some of you about filing systems: sometimes the choice itself is arbitrary the key is to stick with it.

We are so fortunate to have so many choices as New Yorkers we pride ourselves on living in a place where we can have any type of food imaginable delivered to our homes within minutes, so it goes against our instincts to limit our options. Yet sometimes freedom is freedom from decision-making. So in the next few months, keep this in mind: in what areas can you limit your choices in a way that that will simplify your life and leave you feeling less overwhelmed rather than deprived?

Tip: For pieces of paper you want to keep posted on the fridge, like emergency or frequently used numbers, use magnetic frames to keep them neat and easily found.