On Lifestyle Superiority…
So, this morning I am thinking about humans and our need to judge others by our own fickle standards.
I was already kind of thinking about this as I did my morning trudge; I’d been considering the frustration I feel at the automatic mental comparisons I do every day. Not because I want to, but because I’ve been trained to. I was writing to myself in my journal and I wrote the phrase, “Onward to another day of toil.” Which was kind of a joke because I like being overly dramatic in my journalling so I can laugh at myself later, but also because I actually enjoy my job.
I specifically chose this career so I’d have a job I like and wouldn’t dread going to 5 days a week for an indeterminate portion of my life. And, while I can’t actually imagine myself having this same job for the next 40 years, I do enjoy it and have no plans of leaving anytime soon. My long term plan in life has been (since the age of 8, I believe) to be a landowner somewhere “up north”. Technically, at this point in my life, I am a landowner up north… The only problem is that it’s only about 1/7th of an acre that I “own”.
It has only been in recent years that I recognized exactly what I wanted to do with that land up north – I want to be a farmer. I grew up “working the land”, and that’s really the only place I’ve ever felt comfortable. To be honest, I like plants and animals significantly more than I like people. So, I’d prefer to spend my days with plants and animals. This has always been my nature. This is nothing special, but the significance is that I finally recognize that this is how I want to spend all of my days until I don’t have any days left.
When I lived in California, I mostly just felt stifled in my life. I wanted my own house and property, but I was always kind of lost when I imagined having to purchase a house in California. I worked my tail off to get a degree so that I could ensure my family’s way out of that awful town I had been trapped in for years. The driving force for me to do well in school was that I knew I wanted to move away, even if it was just to a place a few hours north or west. I just needed to get out of that particular place. At some point, I realized I wanted to move far, FAR away, and so that became my goal.
When I moved north, it was like an entire world of possibilities was opened to me. Everything was fresh and beautiful and I could see opportunity at every turn. And, you know what? I’ve lived here for six years, and I still see opportunity at every turn. I was made to live in this region, the northwest US suits me well.
As I said, I have a small piece of land – this is the house I live in with my children. I have three gardens at this point as well as a line of berry bushes and a dwarf fruit tree orchard. I love to spend time outside: tending to plants, composting, building, chipping wood, fixing stuff, whatever there is to do outside. I love to spend time inside: baking, experimenting with recipes, canning, knitting, fixing stuff, whatever there is to do inside. In short, I just like to do what I can do to be as self-reliant as possible. I learn new things every day. It’s exciting to me.
And so, by definition, I fit into the “Urban Homesteader” category. This is not a good thing, in my mind.
Now, don’t misunderstand me, there’s nothing wrong with being an “Urban Homesteader”, if that’s what you are. But, I don’t feel like that’s what I am. For one thing, I dislike that phrase because (to me) it’s an unpleasant oxymoron that is ridiculously overused and has become some keyphrase that “cool” people sling around when talking about ‘locavores’ and whatever other made-up fad terms they talk about. For another thing, I’m not trying to be anything other than what I already am.
The only limitation I have is that there’s only 1/7th of an acre to do my thing on. I’m only “urban” because I bought a house in town, since it was the only house I could find in my (very small) price range that was big enough for 3 children, was in a wonderful old neighborhood, and didn’t have a massive amount of repair to be done. I don’t plan to stay here any longer than I have to; when I can afford a farm, that will be my home and I will do my thing on a significantly larger scale. Indeed, I feel like I’m already outgrowing this bit of land – I’m pulling up as much of the yards as I can because I feel the need to produce more food this year. I’ll probably continue to work a day job until I am able to pull a steady income from my land. And then, I will work my land all my days.
But, that’s just me. I’m a farmer at heart, and that’s where my interests lie. In my world, people can do whatever they want to do, and it’s not limited by whatever labels other humans give the things they choose to do in their lives. I encourage people to follow their goals, regardless of how different they are from my own. Because it makes no difference what they do, as long as they are happy doing it. I feel very happy when I see other people who are genuinely content in their lives.
So, when I read two editorial pieces this morning that were related to “Urban Homesteading”, I became troubled. One piece was about humble “homestead” proselytizing: Don’t Be an Urban Homesteader Asshole. The other was about the downsides of living a purposefully low-income lifestyle: I am a Radical Homemaker Failure. I read many comments on both of these pieces. And, that is where I became thoroughly disturbed.
Reading these opposite viewpoints of the same subject, I recognized that I do not identify with either of these mindsets. I don’t follow any of their rules, and I don’t think it matters if other people follow rules or not. It’s not important to me in any way. It is somewhat disturbing to me, though, that people honestly feel that self-sufficiency is something akin to a religion, that there’s some mystical or transcending quality to this lifestyle that makes it better than other lifestyles. Similarly, it is disturbing to me that people honestly feel that materialism is something akin to a religion, that there’s some dynamic and extraordinary quality to this lifestyle that makes it better than other lifestyles.
And, I don’t get it.
Why can’t people just live their lives in their own ways without being judged?
Why are these choices we make in how we live our lives the driving force in our treatment of other humans?
It hurts me to see the lengths people go to to hurt other people in the name of their beliefs.
I mean, I already know this is how people think. This is our nature, obviously, to complain and compete and conquer… but why do we continue to do this, when we have no reason to? We are no longer bound by the urges of the primate – we have conscious thought, we have the means to break out of that instinctual necessity for domination. And, yet, here we are, striving to convert other humans to “the right” way of life. Every day.
And, I am realizing today that I am very thankful that I don’t have to define my life by the standards of other people. Sure, people judge me. Sure, people try to convert me to their lifestyles. Sure, I do things “wrong”. Sure, I still buy eggs and butter and cheese from a grocery store. Sure, I just canned twelve jars of tomato sauce randomly in the middle of winter. Sure, I neither make nor buy yogurt to compare to other people’s yogurts because I rarely eat yogurt anyway. But, I am happy.
That’s really all that matters.
Do your thing, my friend. Follow your intuition and you will find your place in the world. I’ll support you any way you go. If you come help me in my gardens someday, I’ll cook a delicious meal for you. 🙂
Love,
– Jane