Whenever I feel that, perhaps, I am the adopted spawn of Don Quixote and Sisyphus with this Happy Lifestyle Design stuff, I watch this video. A Facebook friend shared it with me. Someone named Angelina Smith posted it. It is my meditation.
Sometimes I forget that when I was pushed off the cliff five years ago, I discovered that I could fly! So, when I worry about how my rent for August will arrive or whether I'll ever be able to see a dentist about this tooth that is bothering me or whether I'll ever pay off these darned school loans, or whether I'll ever get this van or birth the sustainable farm/service retreat/entrepreneur incubator I am dreaming of, this little video helps me to remember what I already know to be true: It will come. It always does.
The British philosopher, Alan Watts reminds us to ask the earth-shattering question, "How would you really enjoy spending your life?" Get that? How would you enjoy spending your life? You have permission to do that! We are taught the opposite. We are taught that one does not have permission to do what one enjoys but, rather, that one must do what is necessary to be successful (code for "materially wealthy"), no matter whether getting to "success" sucks the very joy from one's existence. Alan Watts calls this stupid. What a relief to hear this and to know it to be true. How would you really enjoy spending your life? Dream a little. Keep on dreaming. Dream bigger. Take that first step . . . and then the leap. It will come. It always does.
My version of Happy Lifestyle Design asks three questions: How do I shelter myself, How do I give and receive value, and how do I care for my embodied soul? This post is about the last question.
I thought very carefully about how to phrase my question. What I eat and where I get it from matter . . . and there is more. Industrialized societies that are heavily influenced by European cultures tend to separate the mind, body and soul. I have decided not to. What I eat and where I get it from, how much I sleep, what sort of exercise I do, the relationships I have, balancing all of these contributes to happiness for me. And so I ask myself, how do I care my embodied soul?
I happened to talk to a friend of mine about van dwelling and the philosophies behind avoiding consumerism. He directed me to the NYC Freegan Meetup Group. The group meets twice a month to present Freeganism 101 and to give Dumpster Diving tours. I joined the group for a presentation and tour on Monday, April 15, 2013 (yes, tax day, how ironic). Before we left on the tour, several members of the group gave us some background about Freeganism and what dumpster diving is all about. I managed to keep it together but inside I was screaming, "Glory hallelujah!" I had found my people.
We hit the streets at about 9:30pm. Timing is important because the dump trucks arrive by around 11pm to pick up what the supermarkets throw out. We visited four locations. Le Pain Quotidian gets my highest praise. Someone there had gathered the best of the bread that was being thrown out into double-lined clear plastic trash bags then thoughtfully placed those bags in clear sight on top of the rest of the rubbish. In all of the locations, most of the food was still in its packaging and was, perhaps, one or two days past the sell by date. By the time I decided I had to go home, my bags were overflowing and I felt overwhelmed by it all. There was SO MUCH! I can eat really well and avoid consumerism!
Watch this short video to get a better sense of what Dumpster Diving and Freeganism are all about.
UPDATE: Youtube has pulled my video for reasons that I cannot fathom. This is really unfortunate. I hope to figure out why and get the video back up.
I have written a blog post about intentional happiness lifestyle design. That post presents one aspect of why I am making the lifestyle changes that I am. This post presents another aspect of my decision.
Do you remember The Social Contract? Jean-Jacque Rousseau? The treatise on the relationship between the people and the government? Rousseau focused on the sources of political authority which he credited to "the people" rather than to a monarch who ruled by so-called divine right. His work revolutionized politics in Europe and significantly influenced the American Revolution.
There is another sort of social contract that threads the fabric of every society. It is an economic contract. In the context of capitalist industrialized societies, that relationship mainly lays between corporations and people. Basically, the corporations (i.e. the shareholders) own the means of production (sound familiar?) and the workers produce the products. The corporations sell the products and (here is the social contract part) distribute the profits between themselves and the workers. The corporations have a vested interest in the welfare of the workers, the workers have a vested interest in the welfare of the corporations. That's how it is supposed to work.
Then there are the banks. The banks make it possible for the corporations and the people to conduct business: Purchase and sell assets, finance large investments, store their money, and so forth.
There are rules and regulations that govern the transactions within this economic contract. They are intended to curb excess, prevent abuse, and prosecute it when it does happen.
The United States enjoyed a period of relative prosperity during the Clinton Administration. This got certain people thinking, hey, there is no limit, let's milk this thing for all it is worth. So they got rid of the rules, went hog wild, and then, eventually, as should be expected, it all came crashing down.
My issue is this: in the aftermath, the corporations and the banks (well, the people who run them, really) have made no effort to uphold their end of the economic bargain. It is much worse than that. They have coerced ordinary citizens (via the government) to pay to fix the mess that they made. Below I have posted an excellent video made by the political economist (excellent combo) and Brown University professor, Mark Blyth that explains this all quite nicely. (By the way, I find his accent super sexy.)
In the beginning I totally accepted the financial crisis hype, believing that allowing the banks to fail would lead to unbridled disaster. I believed that the bank bailout was unavoidable and prudent. Perhaps it was. However, the aftermath is unconscionable and I find myself growing more unwilling to participate in this nonsense.
So, I ask myself, what can I do to make big banks and multi-national corporations irrelevant to my life?
For me the answer lays in arranging my life in a way that has as little to do with mass consumption as possible. So, in addition to changing my life for the sake of living in the now and maximizing my happiness, I am also minimizing the stranglehold that consumerism has had on my life.
Imagine being free from worrying about money and the constant, grinding, soul obliterating obsession with the means of obtaining it and, rather, having one's needs met via direct exchange with other human beings. Imagine a life where what the "too big to fail" banks do has minimal impact because money is not the central mode of exchange.
Again, I am not doing this because I don't believe in industry and the economies of scale. I am doing this because our banks and corporations have not only betrayed and abandoned us to the wolves, they have become the wolves and they are feeding on us. Many argue that they always have. Fine. Whatever the case, I choose to be the prey that got away.
I have found a new obsession. Vans! I'm learning about makes and models and histories all toward answering one question: Can I live in it?
My last blogpost was about my desire to live in a bus. That is so last week. In the interim, I have discovered VANS!!! A bus conversion can be expensive, finding a place to park the bus is a nagging issue, and I really need to get about making this lifestyle change as soon as possible.
As I bopped around the many delightful Youtube videos featuring bus conversions, I began to notice the videos featuring vans. I decided to check them out and discovered that, as a starter mobile home situation, vans are an excellent choice for me. They are much cheaper, parking is a much less daunting prospect, and I can get started on this next phase of my life much sooner.
I am relishing the reactions I get when I say that I intend to move into a van. On the one hand, there is guarded shock and dismay (guarded to avoid insulting me, I suppose, shock and dismay because, well, why would anyone (especially an Ivy League educated former Wall Street litigator) want to do that! unless she is flat broke, destitute, down-and-out, basically tragic. On the other hand I did get an enthusiastic, "Go for it" from my sister. She's awesome.
I am explaining why as I go along blogging. You will just have to keep reading (ha!). For now, I am saving my pennies and scoping vans.
Van scoping is such a stereotypically dude thing. I have long marveled at how the same man who will forget birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, taking out the trash and how to put dirty clothes in the hamper will remember twenty years worth of sports miscellanea and the specs of every vehicle in a parking lot. I'll admit, however, that, while part of me has always admired car expertise, I have never been inspired to develop it myself . . . until now.
I've always had a bit of the tomboy in me. I played full contact co-ed football in high school. We played pick-up games on the weekend. We wore no protective gear. I felt powerful; it was awesome. Now I feel as though I returning to my roots. That feels good.
I have started scoping out vans on the street, which can lead to some funny moments. Commercial van drivers tend to be men. Bored, perhaps, certainly virile. They see a woman staring in their direction with frank interest, they can't be blamed for believing that I'm checking them out. I'm not. I'm checking out their vans.
I've settled on two models that I like best. One is the Sprinter, the other is the Econoline. I have to laugh about the Sprinter because that choice is so typical for me. Put me in any store and, without fail, I will pick the most expensive item available. Shoes, bags, dresses, you name it, I'll find the most expensive one. Apparently my taste for luxury runs toward vans as well.
I first saw the Sprinter van in Harlem. I was walking home from my teaching gig when it came speeding past me like a sleek black cheetah. It stopped at a red light and I hurried toward it, desperate to see the make and model. The only thing I managed to make out before it zoomed off when the light turned green was an all-to-familiar trademark: Mercedez Benz. Seriously. I'm lusting for vans and I manage to set my sights on a Mercedes.
Soon I began to see these vans everywhere! I started to take pictures, giggling to myself about what passersby might have been thinking. It is New York City. Tourists are forever taking photos of all manner of things but, vans? Anyway, the day after I spotted my first Sprinter, I saw another one, same color, parked near Columbus Circle. So I took pictures. See! Ohhhh!!! Ahhhh!!!
Here are different angles of another Sprinter van. I prefer to sneak up on the vans and snap my shots while keeping a low profile.
I believe the last one might actually be a Ford Transit. I noticed the Sprinter because I had found a wonderfully well done Youtube video detailing how to convert a Ford Transit (similar body, less expensive, of course) into a camper. The video is below. One distinct advantage of a van like the Sprinter is that one can stand up inside. This is very important to me.
There are other vans that have more space. Specifically, the Ford Econoline has caught my eye. Now, I am a Ford skeptic. I remember learning, long ago, that Ford stands for Fix Or Repair Daily. Still . . . the space. . . I have started seeing Econolines everywhere, too. After a bit of research, I've decided that I really like the E-350 series with the converted top. Last night, I saw a van that pretty well matches what I think I'll ultimately end up with. Here it is! (Ohhh!!! Ahhh!!!).
I took these pictures at night, guerilla stealth-style.
I can understand if you are still skeptical about whether or not this can work. What about the weather? What about the bathroom? Men tend to ask me the bathroom question much more than women do. Go figure. In my searching about, I happened across an amazing woman who calls herself Mocha Gypsy. She hosts a delightful blog about her journey into becoming a van dweller (that's what it's called). Here is a link to Mocha Gypsy's blog; I think you'll enjoy it.
This is the video in which she explains the ingenious methods she uses to live comfortably in a van even during the Northeastern winter. Enjoy! I'm off to indulge in more van porn (yes, I said that).
Some people do well living life without particular goals or a sense of purpose. I am not one of those people. I have been making plans since I can remember. At the start of every year in grade school I would inventory my clothes and create a chart detailing which outfits and hairstyles I would wear each day. At the beginning of this year, I created a chart to detail what I would eat each day, making sure that each meal was based on the key ingredients in each week's grocery list. Each week of the month features a different vegetable and legume.
Fifteen years ago I created a seven year master plan that saw me through graduate school. And then things fell apart (the moral of the story being: Make longer master plans). Falling apart took three years (I'm stubborn) and I have spent the five years since then trying to figure out the meaning of life (and why everything happens in odd numbers of years).
When I picked up Tim Ferriss's book "The 4-Hour Work Week", I was married, had a house, a dog, a husband, his car, was paying two mortgages, and was a corporate law firm associate on Wall Street. Having a child was the next goal - just like it was supposed to be. Looking back, I see how I was following the rules that our society insists is the right one: Wait for happiness, plan for success. So there I was with all this success, a ton of responsibilities, not a lot of happiness, and this book that says, dump it all, be happy. I read the book eagerly then put it aside. It all sounded great but . . .
Life took care of all that stuff for me and now it is time for a new plan. I've had five years to think about it and here is what I've come up with. Rather than planning for success, I am planning to be happy. With every part of the plan, the central question for me is, will I be happy?
There are three major parts to the plan:
How I shelter myself
How I give and receive value
How I care for my embodied Soul
How I shelter myself will likely be the most challenging aspect of this Intentional Happiness Lifestyle Design. It will take the most planning and take the longest to achieve so I'm starting with that.
A few weeks ago, I suddenly developed the urge to live on a bus. I can't remember exactly how it happened but I learned of people who have transformed buses into amazing living spaces. It took another couple of weeks for me to understand why I feel so passionately about living on a bus.
Leaving my house is one of my least favorite things to do. I love to be at home. By myself. With a good book, or writing, or watching a movie. At the same time, I adore traveling and exploring new places. Living on a bus allows me to travel and be at home at the same time! It is perfect!
Here is an example of a truly impressive bus conversion. It's like the Taj Majal of buses.
There are other options. For example, check out this tiny house on wheels. What I love best about this video is hearing the home builder and owner, Dee Williams (who owns fewer than 400 things) talk about why she was inspired to live in a tiny house and what doing so does for her. Her explanation basically describes why this kind of living would contribute to my happiness. She is my hero!
I'm giving myself three years to achieve this goal. I need to raise money to build whatever it is I decide to build and find the expertise to help me do the work. That leads me to my upcoming blogpost: figuring out how to pay for this project!
P.S. No, this is not a three year plan. I've learned my lesson. There is actually a forty-year plan in the works. It involves splitting time between two different continents, becoming a farmer, having 100 children, and living in a hut. Yes. Really.
Poster from my Facebook Feed. If you know who originated it,
please let me know so I can give them credit.
An attention-grabbing link came through my Facebook Newsfeed the other day. The link was to a New York Times article by Thomas L. Friedman titled, "Need a Job? Invent It." In the article Friedman says, "My generation had it easy. We got to "find" a job. But, more than ever, our kids will have to "invent" a job. (Fortunately, in today's world, that's easier and cheaper than ever before.)" You can read the article here. I added the emphasis.
This article is the truth! I'm also excited about it being out there because it has affirmed that, indeed, I am not crazy. I am dumping my expected life to create a life I never imagined I could live. It it turns out that that is exactly what I'm supposed to be doing. That is the future.
I'm not ahead of the curve, either. Timothy Ferriss, author of The 4-Hour Work Week, got there before a lot of us did. He introduced the idea of life-style design to me. Before *that*, however, there were the hippies. They are, to me, the true pioneers of intentional happiness lifestyle design. (So, now I'm asking myself, am I a hippie? I see a blog post about hippies in the near future.)
I was raised with the conventional admonishment: Go to school, work hard, get a job, work hard, retire, have fun. Most of us were. My parents lived it for most of their lives. And then, one day, our neighbor from across the street had a chat with my dad. Her husband had recently passed away. He had been a doctor. He had worked very hard for all of his life. Just when he was about to reach part three (retire) he suffered a debilitating stroke. He never got to see part four.
Our neighbor told my dad about how disappointing this was and warned him not to wind up the same way. My dad is a smart man and my mother is brilliant. The moment my parents found that running their pediatric practice negatively impacted their health, they were out of there. Currently they reside on a farm in South Africa.
My parents immigrated from South Africa to the United States with three children in tow. They came, initially, so that my father could go to school. The plan was for him to complete a Masters in Public Health then return to South Africa to teach health classes for our church.
One of my earliest memories of my mother is waking up to the sound of her typing a paper for my father. It must have been less than a month after we had arrived. I had been asleep on the floor in the living room and the slow "clack, clack, clack" of the typewriter invaded my dreams. It must have been about four a.m.
We arrived in Loma Linda, California, in December, about eight days before Christmas. To save money on heat, my parents shut the doors to the bedrooms and we all slept on the floor in the living room. I think the carpet was a green shag at the time. Our house had been damaged during a flood in the sixties so the floor in the living room sloped downward enough to make rolling on it fun for my sister and brother and me.
Our house did not have central heating. Instead, an in-floor furnace placed at the junction between the living room and dining room provided warmth. In the evenings we could sit around the furnace toasting our feet and drinking Soyagen as we read our books. That early morning, however, my mother sat at the dining room table a few feet away from where we slept, methodically pecking away, typing that paper one letter at a time. She had never been taught to type. White out was in full effect.
When my father discovered that he was actually taking pre-med courses in order to complete his MPH, he expanded his horizons and went to medical school. He simultaneous enrolled my mother in nursing school (she says he "threw" her in) and I spent the rest of my childhood watching my parents study and work their behinds off. I followed in their footsteps.
I got my first job when I was eleven. I cleaned my piano teacher's house in exchange for piano lessons and some cash. Her house was quite small and she wouldn't let me clean the bathroom. Basically I swept and scrubbed the kitchen and dining room floors, dusted the living room and vacuumed the house. And then we would have our lesson. I never felt prouder and more accomplished, knowing that I was doing something so grown up.
I cleaned house for my next piano teacher, too. By the time I finished high school, I had two housekeeping jobs plus a (very) part time after school office job. I was well on my way to the American dream.
Working hard, loving school (and having great parents and teachers and classmates) got me into Princeton for undergrad and then into Columbia Law School. By the time I started my law firm job, I had been working for nearly 20 years. It was starting to get old. I had also been married for about seven years and things started to get funky with that, too.
Just then, I discovered Tim Ferriss's book. It was like a revelation from the sky! I devoured the book not so much for its practical suggestions (at the time I believed they were truly impractical for most people) but for its philosophical premises: Live now! Invent yourself! Aim for happiness! The one lesson I remember best is how Tim applied the Pareto Principle, the 80/20 rule, to his life. He said, 20 percent of your life causes 80 percent of your problems. You know what? It did! I identified that 20 percent and I was divorced almost exactly one year later.
Tim's book is called the 4-Hour Work Week because it truly intends to be a step-by-step guide to creating a lifestyle in which one works for only four hours per week. The tag line is, "Escape 9-5, live anywhere, and join the new rich." I dismissed the four-hour part as poppycock and focused on the general principles. I've changed my mind a bit about whether it is practical. It can be practical if one decides to make it practical.
I still don't ever see myself doing just four hours per week mainly because I would miss doing what I do! Perhaps it depends on how one defines work? Whatever the case, I find myself at a new stage of designing my life. And that (finally!) is what this blog is for. Exploring Intentional Happiness Lifestyle Design. The details are in the next blog post.
