Friday, September 11, 2009

On Simplicity

Those passionate about the outdoors can often find themselves troubled by the paradoxical nature of their passion. It’s hard to find someone that is truly passionate about their time immersed in the serenity of nature that doesn’t maintain equal concern for its preservation. The problem arises when one begins to realize just what a large accumulation of material wealth is often associated with enjoying their outdoor pursuits in the capacity that brings them the greatest joy. In fact, some often find that the material aspect of their passion at times rivals their passion for the activity that first spawned its necessity. Whether this situation arises out of happenstance or out of the modern desire for material gain could be debated, but what’s not up for debate is the fact that it runs counter to what it truly means to be an advocate for the wilds.

What does this mean to me? Well, for years I think that my interest in the implements that granted me access to the outdoors has, like many others, rivaled my passion for the activities themselves. One begins to realize such things when rifling through a closet full of layers in the pursuit of the perfect article that would suit the weather down to the very smallest unit of measurement by which it’s quantified. When the greatest adventure precedes the actual act of leaving the comfort of the indoors, then it’s become obvious that the original point has been lost. At my worst I might as well have headed down to REI and taken up residence in their floor model camp setup because that’s how far from the path I’d strayed.

I suppose closer introspection may be necessary to tease out the source of my obsessive acquisition of possessions whose alleged purpose was permitting me enjoyment of the outdoors. Specifically, let’s see how this pattern of acquisition panders to my nature: I think, most importantly, I have an extremely deep appreciation for ingenuity - especially when it comes to something that solves seemingly complicated problems through a simple and elegant solution. I can appreciate the time and mental gymnastics that goes into addressing the issues that subsequently furthers our collective resources as tool users (or, as the word might be evolving to mean, consumers). Of course, natural progression would dictate that once enamored by such innovation in principle, I’d like to act as an end to its implication. So, of course, I buy it. Why? Because I need it. Right?

Well, maybe not, and there-in lies the problem. When does there come a point when man pitting himself against nature has actually become man’s creations pitting themselves against nature. I mean, we see it often in the more ‘extreme’ of man’s innovations that we, as supposed preservationists, abhor – oil tankers, mechanized logging machines, smoke belching factories – the list goes on. These are all innovations that improved upon previous intentions to simply thrive within our natural environment…even though these new instruments seem very far from this purpose. I think by this point you, much like me, might wonder where it is we should be drawing our line in the sand? I think allot of that is up to the individual. This individual, for one, has already drawn such a line for himself.

In order to draw the metaphorical line I’ve had to take a back step to a time before my own when man’s (and woman’s, of course) capabilities were governed by a far smaller arsenal of tools and implementations. To be arbitrary about it might not be truly honest, so I think the regression should be one in human innovation in addressing necessities and not necessarily in chronology. So, what is necessity again? You may not recall because it’s a word and concept long perverted by the relative comfort afforded by our own ingenuity, but necessity is essentially what we need to perpetuate a breeding population. However, due to the gratuitous swelling of our craniums, let’s give ourselves a little more license and say that necessity is what we need to live comfortably. Ideas of comfort range for the individual, but this is me we’re talking about, so I will say being warm, dry, and well fed are necessities. I will further indulge myself by affording mental wellbeing, which is the requirement under which I will lump my passion for the outdoors because, I mean, who the hell ever climbed a snow blasted mountain because it meant being warm, dry, or well fed?

Now that I’ve established my framework, the next step was to begin to modify my life to operate within that construct. This basically meant it was time to get to paring down what I had. This was an actual process that included not only the material aspects of my life in their most literal sense, but also finances, and time. I took a close look at every aspect of my life – from cooking, to cleaning, and climbing to biking, from a car to raising Eli, and from work to personal hygiene. I identified how each of these aspects contributed to my overall comfort and then, in turn, what made each of these aspects work as they should without even the tiniest bit of extra to spare. Then came the fun part – getting rid of the extranium. When I say this was fun, I truly mean it. I berid myself of hundreds upon hundreds of dollars worth of possessions. Some I sold on eBay and Craigslist, others I gave away to charity and to those I knew who could use them. I absolved myself of paper and converted solely to digital, and even got rid of every last beloved book that I knew had no use for other than to occupy a space on my shelf. On the coat tails of getting rid, there was also some small amount of acquisition with the intended purpose of facilitating increased simplicity – acquisitions that served two functions instead of one, or took up less space instead of more.

What did this leave me with? First of all, probably one of the greatest senses of peace I’ve known in a long time. Not only do I feel far less mired in the things I currently own, but I also feel less inclination to add to my material wealth. Of course this means more money not tied up in material, and more breathing room when it comes to unavoidable future financial obligations. With decreased material possession also comes allot more time. And what do I with all this time? Spend it in the outdoors! Now I’ve come full circle and am back to the very topic with which I began.

Spending more time in the outdoors has allowed me a far better sense of everything it has to offer. No longer do my possessions act as a buffer from my outdoor experience. I now move faster, lighter, and far less encumbered than I ever have. I no longer experience the outdoors as a specialist because I am not longer entrapped in the prison of specialized gear that I had built for myself. Rather, I enjoy nature on its own terms. As an act of attrition, I’ve also begun to pay far more attention to how those things that do come into my possession get there. Are they born of practices similarly responsible to those they I’ve strove to engender? How does the means of their creation equivocate to their end purpose?

Alas, however, this isn’t a project measure by a beginning and end. This is a way of living embarked upon and hopefully refined and brought closer to perfection as time moves on. Sure, I can’t claim to have divorced myself entirely from material possession and nor do I think I will ever be able to. However, I can move as close to my basest needs, as I see them, as possible. It’s to this end that I hope to keep working. Perhaps I’ll write more on it in the future…who knows, maybe I will even learn to use less words…

1 comment:

  1. Wow, that's deep. And seriously thought provoking. I definitely could use a lot less than I have. Excellent post!

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