Buying Nothing New

So I've been thinking about this "buy nothing new for a year" thing, and I think it sounds really intriguing. And a little scary. Here goes my thoughts.
"I could do that. I don't buy much as it is. But what about pen and papers and journals? What about Christmas gifts? What about plants or things you need to keep learning hobbies? What about all the little places in town trying to stay in business?
But it's a challenge and I like challenges.
So here's something like what MY "buy nothing new" challenge would look like.

Things I can buy:

• Gas
• Hygienic items
• Basic food items
• Plants and seeds
• Handmade items from individuals
• Local "mom and pop" businesses
• Emergency/repair items
• Supplies I can't make such as jars, pectin, nails, candles, lamp oil, ect
• Work related items
• kindle books
• Used items
• Experiences

What I will do:

• Upcycle/recycle as much as I can
• create what I can from scratch
• Share experiences and outings with friends, including outings that involve purchasing tickets
• Support individuals and local businesses
• Buy services

Why?
Because I'm redefining my idea of "need." Because local owners need support. Because most cemmercial products are tainted with products produced by slave labor. Because less is more. Because I don't have much money to spend and I'd like to save what I can.
Because I think it would radically change my life.
So. Here's to moving toward a more sustainable lifestyle. *Teeters on the edge of the cliff, thinking about jumping in.* Anybody on board with me?

Loving Less

Okay, so I'm finding I love living with less.
Enough that I felt it was worth starting my own blog just to write about it.
The first thing I did was go through my dresser. Clothes are easy to get rid of and easy to get for not much money. I got rid of my worn out jeans (I might actually wear the nicer but not as comfy ones now). I got rid of my old shirts that hung around for over five years and just made me think of friends I lost and places I no longer see. I decided to keep five nice shirts and five everyday shirts. I kept five pairs of jeans and one pair of dress pants. I kept five long-sleeve shirts, two sweaters and a light and heavy jacket. I pared my shoes down to one set of winter boot, black heels, white sandles and another pair of regular/cowboyish boots. I still have a pair of tennis shoes at a friend's house. I'd like to work on replacing these shoes with better fitting and better traction ones but for now these are what I needed to work with all my outfits.

My new shirt drawer. It has lots of space now.

I found things easier once I got rid of stuff. I could get rid of a skirt when I realized I didn't have a shirt to go with it. I kept one formal and purged the rest. I even went through my costume closet, bagging up any costumes that didn't fit me/were close to another kind/too many of the same era/cool but I'd never actually worn.
That was over a week ago and I must say, I love it. It's so easy to grab what I need for the next day and put by my bed. I've looked nicer because I got rid of my shabby/well-used stuff. I still have two pairs of jeans that are uncomfortable to wear but I'm hoping to break them in or replace them.

I haven't gone through my jewelry box but the one upstairs is now cleaned and used only for my most common jewlery.
Pearls from my mother from Cozumel. This is one of my most cherished possessions.
Another pearl bracelet that was given to me for Christmas after I asked for it. It was made by survivors of the sex-slave trade to help support them as they healed and found a life in freedom.

Jewelry box hand-detailed for me with heirloom jewelry.

A necklace I got from the Titanic museum that supposedly has a piece of coal that was brought up from the Titanic. I love the stories of the people on the Titanic.
Earrings and a ring I inherited from my grandmother.
Everything is special in some way.
Everything goes nicely with my surviving wardrobe.
I have about one laundry load a week. Then it's folded, put into it's spacious drawers and it's ready to go at a moment's notice.

Encouraged by that, I set my sights on other things in my room. Starting with my bookshelf. I love the way that old books look on my shelf and I used to collect replicas of old books - most written before the 1900's. I read the books and enjoyed them but looking at the shelves, I realized I couldn't remember anything about most of the story lines. I originally wanted to collect them to give my children, but now my beliefs are changing about Christianity - beliefs which go against the ones emphasized in the books. I realized I don't want those messages passed on to my children. I also had a collection of books that spoke of the beliefs that are important to me: stories of God's grace, our individual purpose in life, healing from spiritual abuse, freedom and light and joy. Those are the books I re-read and cherish. Those are the lessons I want to teach my children if I ever have any. But those aren't the ones with the pretty covers.

Favorite books with new covers.

So I made them pretty covers. I'm not usually a crafty person but I was very please with the way the covers turned out and how nicely they blend in with my "antique" book theme. I still haven't covered all the books but it's an easy, ongoing project. It also makes me rethink each book and whether or not it merits a place on my shelf. A few weeks ago, I didn't have enough room on my bookshelf for all my books. I went through them once, but kept more than I needed. Here is a picture of the "before" which is really the second pass and the "after" which is what it looks like now.

 My writer's corner.

After my clothes and books were gone through, I began to really get into this. My violin not only came out of the closet, but went onto my wall in my "writer's corner" as part of the decor. I thought I might pick it up more if I don't have to dig it out of my closet. I had two violins too, so I decided one should go into the garage sale stuff. It's a "bigger ticket" item that might help Kaitlyn more than a lot of little things. I still need to put the strings on the violin I kept. That's coming up.

My exercise equipment found the same fate. The almost new roller blades, the folded up re-bounder I don't have a place for, the arm weights I'm not sure are good for my wrists all went onto my brother's bed to wait transportation. (Shhh... don't tell Ryan. I plan to have it all gone by the time he comes for a visit.)

"The Pile."

Seeing my room clear up was amazing and I found that the more I got rid of, the easier it was even for sentimental stuff. I marched my doll army upstairs - all of them. I may pull one back out but for now they're all together waiting owners who will love to show them off. My rule has been - keep one special thing from people - from Pop I have the violin that I actually want to learn to play.

Then I got to my "electronic" drawer. I threw out the blown/fuzzy speaker, put the CD player into the pile, and matched cords up with all the pieces, sending some on their way in a full set and keeping the others near their companion for my own use. I completely cleaned out the drawer, fitting all the stuff I kept into a box around the size of a shoebox.

I still have stuff to do. Closet drawers filled with CD's, software, video cameras, ect.
The horse collection that is waiting for a box. The toys that are tucked away waiting to find out if they'll go to my children or to someone else's.

Overall, it's been like a treasure hunt. How many things can I find to send to help someone else? How much stuff do I have but don't use? How much room can I make?

It's easier to focus on the things I want to learn. I got rid of the drawing books and kept the Irish step dancing shoes. I gave away my harp, and kept the violin.

I've also found that instead of feeling deprived - I feel more spoiled. I mean - I still have A LOT of stuff. I take better care of what I do have. I think twice about new purchases. I try to use things that usually sit unused because I have too many things to do and things to try.

So yes. The experiment worked.
I love living on less. And I haven't brought one thing back from my brother's bed. Not one. I had to think really hard to remember what was even up there.

Defining Enough

                I’m downsizing.

                For about two years, I’ve been working on weeding out my life, and daydreaming about just plowing the whole field and starting over. Not really, but on the times that I am forced to consider what would happen if, oh, say a hurricane blew my house away and there are things I would be very upset over loosing – mostly those that are sentimental and irreplaceable. But a secret part of me has always wondered if I wouldn’t be secretly relieved to be parted with the extra things that just keep hanging around.

                I’ve often thought it would be easier to get rid of things if I had a good place for them to go and wasn’t just dropping of boxes at a thrift shop. For instance, my grandfather used to give me a porcelain doll each year. I love them. They’re beautiful and I love that he picked them out himself. But right now, they’re grouped together on the old record player and I teasingly call them the doll army. I might keep one for the sentimentality, but do I need an army of them?

                The sentimentality issue lingers because I always wanted something that belonged to my mother when she was a child. Because she was a navy-brat, she got rid of her things as she got older. I vowed I would keep some things for my children. So I kept my favorite toys and they’ve been sitting in boxes in the top of my closet. Again. I could keep a few things. I don’t need boxes of them. My children might not even like old toys anyway.

                But they linger there as I bounce back and forth in my mind of what to do. I’ve heard all the arguments. “They might be worth something. Your kids might like them. They don’t make things good-quality anymore.” The list goes on and on and I must admit, it sounds pretty good to just let them sit there, awaiting future glory.

                Unless I’m feeling guilty because it’s things I don’t use. Or overwhelmed because I have to figure out what to do with it. And what about the things that I’ve hung onto because someone gave them to me, but they’re not particularly sentimental? It’s guilt that keeps them around. What about all the time I spend cleaning the things I don’t use?

                And what about all the places in the Bible where it talks about not storing up things on earth, and selling your things to help the poor? What about all the people in the world who have even less than I do, who live off of next to nothing? How do they fit into this picture?

                I can’t claim to have all the answers yet, but lately the questions have been coming up more and more. I have two boxes of things I haven’t parted with, simply because I don’t want to just dump them. I needed a cause to rally up my courage to make the leap.

                Last week while cleaning the church, I stumbled on the book, “Enough” and recognized the title, though I couldn’t remember who had recommended it to me or when they had done so. It’s going to take some further investigation before I accept anything as “Bible doctrine” but much of what he says resonates with me. And helps relieve my fears about parting with things. Right now I have just enough to cover my bills and basic expenses. But it is enough and more than most of the world has. Although by the book’s standard – I’m that “poor” young woman who is one large medical expense or broken car away from going below. But for right now – that is enough.

So while I was cleaning the church, I was thinking about a friend of mine whom I used to go to church with. She’s recently been diagnosed with cancer. Kaitlyn is a sweet girl and not long graduated out of highschool. I was thinking about how I could support her while she goes through chemo and God brought to mind that I could sell some of my things in a garage sale. I live a few hours from her so I don’t think I could set one up effectively but I wrote her mother to see if anyone was planning one. And her sister had mentioned it.

So. There it is. My answer. My cause. My justification for parting with even those nice things that I enjoy that people gave me, but they just don’t seem to fit with where I want to take my life. So.

Life-simplifying, step one, begun: Looking at my possessions with new eyes. Will this do more good for me, or Kaitlyn?