Photography as a Cure for Materialism?

As we pare down our possessions through circumstance or by conscious decision I have, ironically,  begun an inspired collection of 'treasures' that have already piled quite high: a teetering tower of finds that need no storage, no dusting or mending. They take up not one shred of additional planetary resources (are in fact likely to have you caring far more for this earth), cause no pollution, nor even use freely gotten energy.
They are photographs. And many of them will likely go no further than the Cloud on which they are stored. Some do end up on Facebook or on a Blog (hello!) or sent to a friend or family member, but the vast majority are simply a collection of love.
My photographs are of nature and the lens of my camera has been the medium through which we have communed. I use a phone camera most times. Simple, immediate gratification; a gift of technology.
 My walks, camera in hand have become a meditation for me when alone, a treasure hunt with family, a giddy shared pleasure with other enthusiasts. And lately it has occurred to me that photography has helped cure me of some of my desire to gather, collect and own, all without overflowing my life, my home, my wardrobe or conversely, without dipping into my wallet.
I would not say I am obsessed with the need to photograph everything. I can take a walk without a camera (just an initial tug of pain and then I am fine;), but I can no longer turn off the photographers 'eye', the constant rainbow tinted lens through which you notice everything and anything of beauty, of wonder or even of perfect symmetry of simplicity. When you start down this path, you need only open your eyes to see a universe of wonder to be admired, the moment begging to be captured.
Of course I was always a little this way as many are. I have always taken some photos, have always practised art, have always written, so those things I see are sometimes transferred to a canvas or a notebook and I suppose in some ways it is like speaking a couple of languages. You experience something by your senses and you choose a language through which you feel best lets you fully experience that moment.
Photography has it's limits. It does not properly relate the buttery sweet smell of wattle, it cannot describe the bitter smell of burnt toast or the sound of a waterfall, nor the feel of moss on sandstone, but it can I think describe other vital and wonderful things: your love of that moment or of the object, your connection to it, your sense of wonder or incredulity, your appreciation of it's perfection.
The nicest thing for me in photography is to feel any of the above, take a photograph, share it on social media and have a person react just as I did, though the person was never there. Shazzam!
I suppose it is a bit like taking a kings treasure on tour. You present the object to other people and you share the awe of it together. Wanting simply to own the treasure would blacken the moment for either party. Why would you want to own what everyone could enjoy?
It's a poor analogy. Of course the king owns the treasure but I hope I was still able to illustrate how I feel when I photograph something. No need to own an object, just a desire to bear witness.
And so without realising how it happened at first, my desire for 'things' has been even further dampened. I feel very content with my current possessions (I'm not saying I don't like rearranging them on a whim:), I feel a deeper appreciation of the place I live (I lived here for 10 years previously and never quite managed the connection I feel now) and yet I could move on. I feel like I am treading lightly in this place and pleased to know it while I am here.  I can take my wonder with me anywhere. It is the lightest of luggage.
There is a down-side. Wonder is addictive. Pangs of connection to earth is a heart-drug you will want to pursue. And like me, you will glance back every now and then at the shiny lights and faux scents and tinny jingles in the distance and wonder what all that was ever about.

Saving Money Staying at Home

It is a sickening blow to discover your part-time work income over many years is actually zero bordering on minus, but this is exactly what our family discovered late last year.
In an effort to save other folk from this financial blow, I will be posting some blogs on the topic of how part-time work as a second income can be a complete waste of time or worse an actual drain on your income.
Of course, our circumstances though by no means unique are specific to us and anyone interested would need to do their own math, but I hope by sharing our experience others can avoid a similar pitfall.
Even if your main aim for part-time work is to stay sane and have a social life and money is not a big factor, this may still apply to you since leaving work can mean both of these important needs are well catered for if not greatly improved.
My husband is the main income earner in our family. This isn't because he is smarter or better educated than me (indeed I am the one with the university education) but because the world still counts his industry (technology) as being more valuable than mine (arts) he gets the lions share of income, but hey I'm working on this universal problem!
Needless to say, my husband goes out and earns the greater part of our household income for which I am truly grateful and he is very good at his job.
I myself have had a long string of poorly paid but creatively enjoyable commissions for painting, murals, drawings and illustrations over the years. On top of that I have worked in various retail jobs and cleaned/DE cluttered houses. I am also the mother of two boys, now almost grown to men and have also volunteered on various community projects.
My most recent work was filling a maternity role in a bookstore I have worked at on and off over the last few years. As the role was coming to an end I was kindly offered a few days of work at the same store and I sat down one day to look at our finances and see how it all might work.
I won't lie, there had been various issue at work. That along with several other projects I had on outside of work had me wondering about the possibility of leaving.
A bookstore as many people imagine is a lovely place to work but we were so busy that the enjoyable parts were almost non-existent and I found conditions trying. High wages was not priority but it was not cheering to have minimum wages and be expected to work Sundays with zero loading (while supermarket employees we knew earned double our wage).
All up, I sat down one day and thought about all the pros and cons of leaving my 3 days employment, bearing in mind I had a freelance illustrating job (also not well paid but creatively interesting) which added up to about one days worth of work a week.
After an hour of jotting down all the costs I could think of associated with going to work, I added up the total and compared it to what I earned. The figure was greater than my income! In shock, I chastised myself for my poor math and set about working it all our again but I was right the first time.
The cost to our household of my going to work was my wages!

My Findings:

Groceries: I do shop with a list for what we’ve run out of, but then in regards to food I buy what’s on special and make meals around that.

I shop at Aldi and IGA one week and my local shopping street the other. I really do believe in keeping it local so that is my compromise. On average we spend about $275- a week for a family of four- basically 4 adults as my boys are young men of 15 and 18.

 Even though I shop carefully I do find is I end up throwing out (I’m ashamed to admit) a fair amount of food each week. I’ll buy a whole reduced celery going for $2- but throw 2/3 away because I only ended up using it for one meal, I’ll make a dozen fresh scones but a third get thrown out because they don’t keep well and no one thinks to freeze them etc etc. A lot of this is just poor management because I am busy and my boys do not get involved in much of this (except eating). I figured if I shopped with smaller amounts twice a week and planned more carefully I could probably save at least $50- a week.

Car: Not driving to work 3 times a week would save me about $25- a week in petrol (obviously there is an amount you could work out on less wear and tear, miles on the clock, need to service, new tyres etc etc, need to wash etc but I’ve no idea what that would be.

Stuff bought at work: Embarrassing to say but working at a bookstore there is no week I do not spend money on a book or three. Sure some are gifts but others are just for me. Estimated savings on average- $40-/week

Lunches: I buy a take-out coffee with my work colleagues most days and lunch at least 2 of my three days- I could save $30- here too. More things that could be made at home for my family to take for lunches and you have another $50- easily saved per week, probably more with Fil. Also because I am too busy to keep my place as I would like it I tend to meet friends for lunch at a café instead of having something at my place or even making up a picnic. Even once a week this saves me at least $20-
My Findings:

Groceries: I do shop with a list for what we’ve run out of, but then in regards to food I buy what’s on special and make meals around that. 

I shop at Aldiand IGA one week and my local shopping street the other. I really do believe in keeping it local so that is my compromise. On average we spend about $275-a week for a family of four- basically 4 adults as my boys are young men of 15 and 18.

 Even though I shop carefully I do find is I end up throwing out (I’m ashamed to admit) a fair amount of food each week. I’ll buy awhole reduced celery going for $2- but throw 2/3 away because Ionly ended up using it for one meal, I’ll make a dozen fresh scones but a third get thrown out because they don’t keep well andno one thinks to freeze them etcetc. A lot of this is just poor management because I am busy and my boys do not get involved in much of this (except eating). I figured if I shopped with smaller amounts twice a week and planned more carefully I could probably save at least$50-a week.

Car: Not driving to work 3 times a week would save me about $25-a week in petrol (obviously there is an amount you could work out on less wear and tear, mileson the clock, need to service, new tyres etcetc, need to wash etcbut I’ve no idea what that would be.

Stuff bought at work: Embarrassing to say but working at a bookstore there is no week I do not spend money on a book or three. Sure some are gifts butothers are just for me. Estimated savings on average- $40-/week

Lunches: I buy a take-out coffee with my work colleagues most days and lunch at least 2 of my three
 so possibly $100-/week (whoa!)

Gifts- I am a creative person and could easily make, draw or build most gifts and cards a year if I have the time (I used to when the boys were young) and I actually enjoy doing this very much. Even if I did this for half the friends and family I know, this has the potential to save $120- a week. It sounds a lot but if you spent only $40- per person (and it would be a lot more on immediate family)including a card and wrap for a birthday and Christmas and Easter each year- throw in some congratulations, commiserations etc etc then add what you actually spend on close family members and divvy it all up over a year and divide by 52, it really adds up. Don't believe me? Try it!-$120-/week (holy moly!)

Financial management- with more time to do home-banking and bill-paying and shopping around you can save a bit each week on interest charges etc etc I’d say almost $20- a week saved probably more as we tend to miss credit card repayment dates through poor management and lazily use other banks so $20-/week

Grow your own: If you have a bit more time you can grow a few things you might use each week like herbs and citrus and cut flowers. I use herbs to cook with almost every day plus lemons and limes and flowers perhaps I buy a cheap bunch fortnightly.  Savings at least $20- a week after an initial set-up, potentially much more if you had the space or inclination for other things.-$20-/week

Clothes- I don’t have an expensive set of clothes but I do buy some as well as comfortable shoes at least twice a year- savings probably $20- a week. There's also time to alter or mend a few things for the family and get a bit more wear out of things.

Take away and dinners out- Each fortnight we probably have one dinner out and at least one take- because everyone is too tired to cook. Even if you halved this to monthly to keep a treat, it still saves $65- a week. (sheesh!)

Tutoring- attending public school I found my boys have needed tutoring at times with some subjects, some I’m embarrassed to say we could have been some help with if we’d had the time and energy. Even one less tutor a week is a saving of $40-

Haircuts: For most of their lives I have cut my boys and my husband’s hair (I had an 18 month stint as a hairdresser in my youth- useful!) Working 4 days I often instructed them to go out and get it cut as I felt harassed to do it myself. If I have time it doesn’t take long and I find it’s hard to get a good men’s cut for less than $20-. Every four weeks that’s $30- saved per week. I can also cut and colour my own hair if I have the time but right now it is a rare pampering treat so more potential savings there of about $30- a week.

Extra cash: Having the time, I am quite capable of drawing, painting, cooking, up-cycling, gardening, writing, housecleaning and lots of other things. Having the time I have the potential of earning at least $150- week, including fixing things up for our own use (furniture etc). Minimum $150- (and up to $300+).

There are lots of other things you could probably work out a figure for- entertaining friends or going to their- make your own stuff for cheaper instead of grabbing dip and salad from Coles- it’ll cost you half. More time to plan means you can come up with ideas for cheaper entertainment etc

Adding it all up I find by not working three days in my retail I could save $560- a week! If you add what I could earn in a minimum capacity elsewhere that's $700- a week!!! For three days I earned $350- (after tax and I was in the lowest tax bracket).

 

Even if I still put $50- of that aside for super (all my work was putting in) I am still $150- better off than I have been all by working.

 I feel I have been modest in my calculations but let's say I was crazy and was $50- over in my spending calculations per week- that's still $100- BETTER OFF NOT GOING OUT TO WORK!

 

It's insane but of course this calculation only works if you are on low wages. A professional earning considerably more would find financially they are better off at work, but how much would be worth    checking since your outlays would be higher (clothes, transport, eating out for example).

 On the other hand if you are paying for childcare, a housecleaner or any type of outsourcing, you could get rid of it all or some of it and consider cutting both partners work days!

 

The bottom line was I certainly could leave my retail job- and I did!

 

My next Blog I will share putting my saved money into action, how to stay sane and have a social life away from work AND some of the many projects, work opportunities and greater happiness I have experienced as my life is now.

This blog is not about keeping women or any second income earner at home as a 1950's housewife- far from it! It is however about making your life richer in joy and experiences, having time for the people (and pets!) you love, the environment and your community, learning new skills and furthering your education, in essence having the time and energy to care and enjoy the life you live.

It really is about closing one small and battered door and walking through a wide open, freshly painted one:)

Why We Have Stuff and Letting It Go

Why do we hold onto stuff? No doubt there are a myriad of reasons.

You can’t imagine our ancient ancestors accumulating an excess of things and thinking it was a bad idea...

NUKNUK: Why Zug have dead mammoth in cave?

ZUG: So Zug no die of cold or hunger.

Other ancestors might have had more complex reasons…

DEIDRE: I say, why do we have a stately home full of thingy things Archie?

ARCHIE: Well, it shows people we are rich and have a higher ranking in society than them dearest.” (This dialogue of wealthy Georgians is obviously a gross fabrication. None of my ancestors would ever be called Archie. And there is no swearing)

Moving along….

In either case we can understand that in times of plenty you accumulate right?

But what if you lived in a state of perpetual abundance where possessions and staples  were extremely  affordable?

 Well, then you end up with a house full to the brim of things you can afford to buy, and probably quite a few you probably got on credit because it was a bargain, was gorgeous or did cool things. And you can afford to pay that money back. More or less.

Your neighbour is in the same boat and so is the woman across the road. And so on in every street and in every suburb, in every state etc etc  Every nook and cranny in our homes is filled with stuff.

Our collecting suggests a fear of the future, one like my grandparents experienced in the Second World War.

For now thank goodness, war cannot be reason to stockpile but we can and have replaced that fear with future economic concerns, future climate concerns, future epidemic concerns etc

But if any of these were truly our motivation then surely we would all be investing in canned food, water filters, candles, medical supplies. Perhaps even gold ingots and vegemite (valuable trade items).

Instead we are collecting hundreds of DVD’s, CD’s (come on have you still got vinyl and cassettes and videos too?);  we have wardrobes bursting fashionable clothes going ‘out of date’ and enough extra trinkets strewn about to open a home wares store in our lounge room, a beauty salon in our bathroom and a carpentry/mechanical workshop in our garage. Do we each individually need to own all that stuff?

What are we doing?

 Against the ‘shiny new’ we have little willpower. (We’ve been trained so well by advertising). I know- I am no stranger to this malady.

 In my case it’s often the shiny old, but that makes it barely better since I am supporting the trade of secondhand. I’m not saying secondhand is bad as such, I’m just saying if there was no place to get rid of your gear (because landfill was bursting at the seams as it would and will) then we might all put considerable more thought in what we buy.

And very little of what we own can be traded as being much value. I know; I’ve sold on Ebay, Gumtree and had 10 garage sales. 10. I know!

I couldn’t even get rid of some perfectly fine things on Freecycle. A friend told me in Germany the Freecycle people arrive, look over the offered free item carefully and often say “Mmm, nein danke.”

Over the years I have noticed garage sale attendee are less and less people with 'need' and are more heavily peopled with collectors, some private, some business.

 Charity stores in my area pick over items and only take it if it’s ‘unmarked’. They get enough donations to pick and choose. Some have told me they were “not currently collecting’ as their warehouses are overflowing. And I have had the gaul to get angry with them! How dare they not take the overflow of my stuff away and replace my guilt with a good Samaritan glow?!

 The huge piles of curb-side rubbish pile tell me we have way too much stuff. How else can we leave perfectly good, but often dated furniture out on the street awaiting the rubbish collectors- in the rain.

Seeing and hearing that stuff being crushed in the compactor really tears at me.  How can we destroy good things, filling our tips with good items when so many people around the world do have less than they need?

Okay, it’s global problem but I’m panning back to me now, to my home, to the place I can begin to shave our personal excesses with my own hands. The process, I have to say is rather like making a matchstick from a redwood tree. With a pocket knife. From my nephews toddler tool belt.

 

But I've got to start somewhere and it has to be with me and I'm ready to start...

Putting each one of hundred of piles of items under the microscope and considering its true importance to us is exhausting and painfully slow.

 Well, that’s what you get for moving in a house half the size of the last and with no garage or shed!

But if I really want to feel free, I need to stop carting around this growing pile of possessions. I need to look at each item in turn and consider its true value to me: that is- whether it is it really necessary or useful or brings me great joy. And I’m not assigning the ‘great joy’ label to every other object in my house just so I can justify keeping it. I’m talking about the few items that are the salt and pepper to our home, the pieces that reflect us and make our home different from other peoples because although I love the concepts of minimalism, I am also a creative soul.

 I want clear spaces but I want my home to feel cosy and welcoming.

What I have to figure out is how to do this with what we already own (where possible, and I have a generous imagination for possible:) and make sure we have a space for all we need with passage through our home possible without ducking, weaving and crawling on your belly.

It’s the kind of creative challenge I love, but I have no doubt there are going to be headaches (whether or not any are mine remain to be seen;)

For this huge overhaul a gypsy vardo is the perfect template. Things around the edge, a place for everything, plenty of colour…it’s not impossible is it? Did I mention the mountain of stuff I'm going to have to rehouse; forty years of do-dads and 'dunno where to put its'....Urgghhh!

It’s time to start whittling…

Letting Go...of Books

I have too many books.

This isn’t an admission; it’s a rainbow-of-printed-spines fact. No one who knows me would expect anything else: I love reading; I love writing; I have a diverse range of interests; I work in a book store (I love to overuse and misuse a semi-colon.)

So you can imagine my big fat bulging bookcases can’t you.

But this time I have too many books, literally. They simply will not fit in our new Little House.

With space a premium, I simply cannot justify using it all for my books. Some books are going to have to go.

 I know, I know; move house some might say.

I say this is an excellent exercise in jettisoning ballast. Books are for me an excellent example of something I have an emotional attachment to. It’s time to drop some sandbags...

Culling books is an interesting psychological experience. I know first hand from working in a bookshop that people have vastly different levels of attachment to books- from indifference and even distaste (no I can’t believe it either but its true) to ‘will not part from one book ever’.

I’d say I am two thirds along the scale toward bibliohorder.

I love books but I admit that in a fire I probably wouldn’t even think of them. There’s an admission! (Well, after I knew my family were safe I may shed a few tears over the loss of my personally signed Markus Zusak book;)

I have books dating all the way back to childhood. Even with many moves and garage sales, charity store donations and second-hand give-aways in between, I still have A LOT OF BOOKS.

Our new living room, sized approximately 4 1/2 by 4 1/2 metres has 4 Ikea bookcases standing round the edges and I decide that I can only justify half holding books. We need room for paperwork, art gear and loads of other bits and bobs that need a tidy home.

From the top of the first shelf I pick up the first book to consider rehousing. At this stage our books have been thrown on the shelf in a hodge-podge of 'do it later' mess so it doesn't matter where I begin.

As I hold this first slim volume, considering it's fate I am very aware of a pang in my solar plexus. I am fascinated with this reaction - the last I noticed it in a conscious way was when I was living in England, musing over my impending departure from a place that I loved very much.

At the time I realised my pain was attachment -a strong fear of separation. I wanted to hold on that place that held so many good feelings and memories for me.

At that time I decided to try changing my feeling consciously to one of enjoyment in my surrounds without clutching madly to it. I kinda breathed it in, then breathed, like I was a conduit, rather than a receptacle. It seemed to work. From that I was able to accept my leaving without too much pain and still enjoy my remaining time there.

I realised too that the good feelings were not outside, etched in the stones of England; they were in me. I could take them with me if I wanted.

 

So right now, what was I fearful of, in letting go of this book? I realised the book (Island of the Blue Dolphins by the way in case you are dying to know, ha ha) had a whole little box of memories attached to the reading of it: a wonderful evocative story, a great academic year of English in High School, the pleasure of seeing my son enjoy the same book. This slim paperback was a little time-capsule of memories and feelings. Would removing the book from my shelf take away any good feelings attached to it by me?

I thought about it for a while, all too conscious that there were hundred of other books each waiting their ‘trial’ of stay or go.

In the end I concluded ‘no’, I wouldn’t loose anything. Like living in England,  I HAD enjoyed the book, the story HAD subtly changed the younger me and short of travelling back in time and removing it from my life then, those things are now intrinsically a part of me- I had downloaded the essence of the book- I no longer needed the physical item. I could recall the beauty of the story whenever I wanted because it is now a part of me. Holding onto the book was surely as pointless as keeping the wrapper of a delicious chocolate because I wanted to retain the pleasure of eating it.

And if I did this holding on with every item I/we own, I will be dragging a chain of things behind me so heavy that I simply won't be unable to move forward with any ease. I will be forced to stay put and be content to only re-examine those things I am already carrying with me. I will stunt my ability to fully experience new joys and ideas.

Urgghh- what a terrible stagnant way to live! And it has to be the opposite to the freedom I am seeking. 

Of course not all the books I hold onto are from prior enjoyment. I discover firsthand what we already suspect- a bookshelf (or a CD shelf, movie shelf etc) is a physical catalogue of emotions, many of which boil down to the base element of fear.

Guilt is a big one. (“God, Nanna would never have thrown this out- she would have had a fit if she’d seen me do this.” {In some religious beliefs you may think Nanna CAN actually see you do this!}) Or Aunty Hilda who you loved and gave you a book though you didn't actually like the story. It's a bit of Aunty Hilda on your shelf.

Guilt could also be ‘could-haves”, “should-haves’ and ‘must-do’s’. This is certainly the feeling I experienced with other books on my shelves, particularly classics I feel I should read and non-fiction I think would better educate me. They are sitting there like waggling fingers admonishing me. “Na-talie…stop reading tra-ash.”

The funny thing is the ‘guilty’ books emit the same pang in my chest as the ‘emotional attachment books’. As I said, it confirms that it all boils down to fear of some sort and is perfect practice for the difficult-at-first art of letting go.

There will surely be books I chose to keep- references and signed books, books I get great pleasure from rereading, and a small selection made by my kids for them to keep to read to their kids. Oh, and plenty of books I haven’t yet read…(another admission!)

All in all I have quite a job ahead of me, going through 4 shelves, double packed, book by book and saying either ‘you can stay a time’ or ‘thank you… and goodbye’, putting those ones into boxes and sending them to the charity store to find a (temporary ideally!) connection with other people.

 I guess this is the power of a library- the shared pleasure- one found to be enjoyed, and then let go of in exchange for a new experience. That will be the motto above my cleaned out bookshelves- “Take a good deep draught and pass it on.”

 After all, there are a wealth of wonderful new stories out there for me to experience….
 

 

The Beginning of a Simple Home and Freedom

"Why do we have so much stuff?!"
We were staring into our Storage King containers, trying to reacquaint ourselves with all we had left behind fifteen months ago, when we had gone to live in England for just over a year.
This comment, said with trademark teen accusation and disdain came from our 17 year old Alex.
  17 year olds as you know, are the epicentre of all wisdom and knowledge on the planet, so of course I was quick to respond with an "It's just what goes into any modest three bedroom Sydney house. If anyone you knew packed up their whole house into boxes, this is exactly what it would look like."
From Alex's expression it was clear he was not to be put off by boring  facts and responded with- "Well, I've been living overseas for fourteen months and didn't miss anything in there." (Good, then you won't miss it when I chuck it out dear...)
We were staring at 70 square metres worth of stuff that had been squeezed with difficulty into a large moving truck- despite multiple garage sales, charity store donations, Ebay sales and garbage disposal.
"It's never going to fit," my husband Fil comments. He's referring to the2 bedroom granny flat we are about to move into that will be our home for a time unknown. Mind you he has said this five times already and I am getting fed up. We are always complaining about dragging around all this stuff, so I keep responding with a "Well, it's a great opportunity for us to lighten our possessions and live more simply isn't it?" But Fil wants it both ways- uncluttered space and freedom together with keeping stuff he has bought with hard-earned cash. And he's meets most of my ideas of an adventure with fear and alarm- despite the fact they turn out well. Come on, they do. Mostly
We will just have to see. Looking at our possessions, I am uncomfortably aware that the reason we still had a mortgage was in part due to the things we kept spending money on. And, we don't even have all the fancy do-dads some people own or the finest furniture.
This is what I tell myself anyway. It justifies the spot that we find ourselves in right now.
It's a common phenomena that when people put their worldly possessions into storage for a year or more, they have trouble remembering what they actually own. Now I am looking at it all again as an outsider, I can see the trail of things bought as we renovated, as the boys grew from children into teens, as I went through fits of decorating or restoring old furniture. It's all there, more or less, looking at me saying "I deserve a spot in the new house don't I?"
After 8 hours of furniture moving and parting with $1100-, we are looking into our new home...with difficulty. Boxes are piled to the ceiling and spilling out of the door onto the tiny veranda and into the garden. We have no garage in the new place and barely any garden and the bedrooms are on the small side and the boys will have to share. Hmmm.
So why am I moving into somewhere that clearly does not fit us? Fil has been wondering the same thing for months.
Well, aside from family close by, reasonable rent and a brand new home, I think, short of our house burning down heaven forbid, this is the best opportunity we have had in our very average western lives, to jettison so many of the shackles we drag about with us and create a life of freedom and peace. (Play noble, emotive music here).We may not love the process, but the end result is something we all like the sound of. Freedom- it's not just an ironically named furniture store.
This is all a massive call I know, but I at least am up for the challenge.
 But what I'm really thinking is, can two working adults with different opinions and two teens who are not used to sharing a room or sacrificing much at all, live together in harmony in a little, simple house? Without killing each other, divorcing or writing each other out of our wills? (To Fil I leave thee the mop. It is used to clean a floor...)
Well, we are all about to find out...

The Pared-Down Life

There's a hundred things and more to be learnt from living overseas for a time as opposed to a holiday. If you've ever considered the idea at all- do it!
My Australian family and I have been living in Hampshire, England for nearly a year now and in a few months we will be returning to our birthplace, down under.
 It has been a grand and wonderful adventure (not without trial) that I have documented in another Blog- A Tale of Two Shires- but it has almost come time to say goodbye to England.
I would have liked to stay much, much longer, but two of the four of us are missing the heat and dryer weather of Australia, so for now it's time to say good bye to the Northern Hemisphere and head back to Sydney.
When we left Australia we sold our house and cars and got rid of a lot of encumbrances, especially those financial. We heard a lot of "Oh my god, I could never do that!" For a lot of people the security of a regular job, mortgage/house and living in a familiar area weighs far more than the call of adventure and that's fine. If you want to travel but are worried about how it will turn out- do it- it could be the best thing you ever did and it's far better to try that to wonder. All it takes is a big leap of faith! Easy to say, harder to do:) Of course our circumstances were that rent would not quite cover our mortgage so our house-selling was the only way- there are others.
When we finally managed to find another home in England, this time renting, we furnished it with second-hand and inexpensive furniture and a few things loaned from my brother and sister in law in London. Though I really wanted to decorate ( English cottage look for real!), there wasn't much point, so we kept nice but simple.
We  noticed there was a lot of things we got by perfectly without (microwave, good sized freezer, food processer, bake ware etc) and quite a few things we accumulated that only got used once (books, DVD's,  tools etc) We swapped sometimes with neighbours or borrowed when we needed to (a great way to get to know people!) Living lighter was cheaper, easier, more relaxing and definitely more social.
Now that we are returning to Australia, we are considering what we might like to take back with us (via freight), and what we need to leave ourselves with as we take a final holiday after leaving our house.
Also, we are faced with already needing to deal with things back in Australia in order to 'reintegrate' back to our old country- schools, jobs, housing, re-informing a dozen IMPORTANT institutions we have arrived who will no doubt want our new address, banks, phone numbers and so on (all the same as was wanted from us in England when we got here.)
We have a storage unit full of furniture we decided to keep waiting for us back in Sydney as well.

All in all, there is a definite sense  of being harried and harassed to comply with a lot of things. I realised this would be a great opportunity to pare down the complications of our lives and see how few things we really need to live happily and also that we need to plug back  into. How much can we 'get away' with? What things do we do because that's what everyone else does?
I know my husband and I have already discussed an awareness that we will probably get rid of more of that stuff we have paid to store (and are fully aware we will be tempted to  reintegrate it when we see it- "Oh, but we got that when...-", ""Oh, but it's possible we might use that at some point" )
but viewing everything  from a distance, we are really aware that we don't want to don that load of stuff again. Of course in western society I am aware we are privileged to have 'stuff'- but how much of the damn stuff do you really need? I was reading a blog by Hobopoet and he was talking about travelling and that he got everything he needed into a carry-on bag (admittedly he was going to live for a time in a warm climate) and he said that if you can do that, then when you return, do you really need more. It's a gross exaggeration of course, but it does make you think.
My husband Fil is thinking seriously of changing his career of twenty-five years. He has long been unhappy in his work and deserves the opportunity to try something (or a few somethings ) else.
 I personally would like to have a go at supporting myself as a writer with work that that best uses my passions and abilities and there are several options I intend to explore.
 Our boys will have to get used to Australian schools again, one of them altogether new. When we left, one of the boys was 12 and the other 16. When we return they will be young men of 14 and going on 18.
We will be living in a different area of southern Sydney from where we left.  As nice as our new area is, it is essentially in the suburbs, albeit one close to the sea.To be honest I  really have my heart set on the countryside after being so close to it in England. Fil and I realise we share a future dream of living in a largish village somewhere in the countryside. Something for down the road.
Altogether I'm not sure how we'll fit back in there. Will the boys settle back into school and friendships? We have no car or house or jobs yet to return to. Having some money in the bank, makes this feel a lot less stressful, but still there is a heck of a lot ahead of us!
So, come September 2013, this blog will become my Captains Log of our trials, experiments, successes and failures on trying on a new pared-down life- with any tips we can think of to share along the way- to live a life that is richer in time and happiness and poorer in busyness and craziness.
A pinch of thrift, a touch of repurposed, a lot of alternative thinking and a great big whiff off purposeful adventure is what we have planned.
A gypsy caravan is an ideal way of living for me, but until the day as I actually come to live in one, I am going to live my life by the ideals for me that a Vardo represents -
freedom, travel, simple living, enjoying the seasons, family, friends, sharing, travelling lightly, play, storytelling, valuing the simple but beautiful, functionality, leave a small footprint, creativity in all it's forms (make new and recreate old), and of course adventure, both on the road and of the soul.

And so, the next adventure begins...