 A
few readers have questioned how I can claim to be an environmentalist
when I live in a large house with a pool on a large lot. Surely, they
say, this is about as far from radical simplicity as you can get?
I would certainly agree that building
such a large house, even one as well insulated as ours, would be
environmentally irresponsible. When we bought it 13 years ago, however,
our two kids and their SO's, two potential grandchildren and three dogs
were in the picture. And although they've moved out, the fact is that
the house is nearly 30 years old and if we weren't living in it
(responsibly), someone else would be living in it (probably less
responsibly).
When I think about it, I realize that we've made
much greater strides towards radical simplicity than even I would have
dared to think:
- We had an energy audit done indicating the
house is exceptionally well insulated and energy-efficient (it's built
into the side of a hill). There was almost no opportunities for
improvement, but we did what they suggested to make it even more
efficient.
- Our greatest expenses each year are property taxes and insurance (hardly ecologically harmful).
- We
rarely eat in restaurants anymore (when we do, they're locally-owned
and locally-sourced, certified healthy), and eat mostly vegetarian,
uncooked, unprocessed, unpackaged foods.
- We avoid Chinese and
other imported products as much as possible, and invest in durable,
well-made products; we buy sparingly, not frivolously, and >90% of
our purchases are Canadian made goods.
- We have virtually no garbage; everything at the curb is in the blue (recycled) or green (compost) boxes.
- We never use the air-conditioner, despite our record hot summer (dress light, jump in the pool to stay cool).
- We
never set the thermostat above 60F in winter, and use our
high-efficiency, low-emission fireplace insert burning windfall wood
from our own property.
- We rarely watch TV and subscribe to no
newspapers and very few magazines; in our extraordinary neighbourhood,
we make our own entertainment and get our information electronically.
- We have done and will do no 'cosmetic' renovations, no matter how 'unfashionable' that may make us.
- We use no fertilizers, herbicides or pesticides and the new trees we plant are native, self-sustaining species.
- We never water the lawn (nor do our neighbours); we don't care if it's brown in the summer.
- We don't drive to buy anything until we have at least three places in the same area to go (no impulse shopping).
- I fly only for work (as rarely as possible) and personal visits are squeezed in around work trips as much as possible.
- We use compact fluorescents (and only when and where we need them), solar lights and candles for light.
- We drink tap water from the community well.
- The pool does not need heating because it's out in open sun and covered with a solar blanket.
Our total expenses, excluding property taxes and insurance, are a third
what they were a decade ago. We've made a lot of progress, and are
still working on areas where our footprint can be further reduced:
- We need to further reduce gasoline by telecommuting more and mowing the lawn less often.
- We need to reduce water consumption by catching rainwater to water the gardens.
- We need to eliminate pool chemicals by switching to salt water.
- My laptop remains an indulgence that uses too much energy and toxic chemicals.
- We need a better way to dispose of compact fluorescent bulbs.
But
while we've made some important and conscientious choices to conserve,
to consume less, the changes to our lifestyle have been more radical
than just what we don't buy and don't use. Radical simplicity is about
simple pleasures. Nothing gives me more joy than sitting out in the
yard, at sunrise or sunset or after dark, and just listening to and
watching, paying attention to things I never used to notice. Chelsea
our wonderful pound rescue taught me that. I would sooner walk in the
forest, in the moonlight, in the rain, than subject myself to any
'commercial' entertainment.
I find small-talk a waste of time,
and I've learned to excuse myself from it politely. I'd much sooner
read, or talk about something important. I have no desire to travel,
even to Toronto. I've found my place, right here, and I never get tired
of it, or bored with it. There is always more to learn from it, and
from the wild creatures who, like me, belong to it.
When I buy a book that isn't made from unbleached, recycled paper I complain to the publisher.
There
is no sacrifice here. The reductions in our footprint have been
completely painless. I am happier than I have ever been, and healthier.
With less noise and less unneeded light I notice things I never used
to. I find more joy in lamplight, kittens, working together, bubble
baths, dew, quiet conversation, sparrows, caresses, homemade music,
fireflies, poetry, children's laughter, stories, thunderstorms,
self-organized community activities, wildflowers, helping people,
learning how to do things and fix things, silence, wild hares and foxes
and deer, scented candles, fruits and vegetables from the garden, love
-- all these things right here that cost nothing -- than I ever found in costly, faraway entertainments.
I
wish you could all be here, to share these things with me. So I could
show you. Radical simplicity is not just about what you consume. I just
can't believe it took me so long to learn, to understand. Not so simple
after all.
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