About six months ago I joined my local timebank. Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd use it. Time banking involves accruing hours by offering services to others, and spending those hours by "buying" a service for another person. In time banking, each person's hour is worth every other person's hour; that is, an hour of cleaning bathrooms is equal to an hour of legal services or massage. Every person's time is equally valuable.
The first hurdle was shyness about meeting people. When I attended the orientation, I did a one-on-one orientation with a board member because I was too shy to go to a big group meeting. We met at a coffee shop; she explained to me all the principles and logistics involved in our local timebank, and I earned my first hour just by drinking coffee and listening. I decided to bite the bullet and post a request right away. I didn't think I needed a personal trainer, but I sure could use someone to meet with and walk with, so I posted a request for a "walking buddy" to meet at a local park and walk. Everyone in the timebank is vetted through a legal background check so I was comfortable enough meeting a stranger. The woman who answered was delightful. She was a retired person who was extremely active in the volunteer scene and delightful to talk to. My second experience was in earning hours. I saw a request for resume editing. Because I've had so many jobs, resumes are something I've become expert in. I helped a woman with her resume and met her in person, and earned a couple of hours. I earned more hours by helping with a garage sale, and by tabling for the timebank itself at a couple of summer fairs. The greatest bit for me is that I didn't have to trade my skills one-on-one with someone who had the exact skill I was looking for. I could bank hours and then "shop" the services for a haircut, a massage, a consultation on closet organizing, and (the one I most often desired) walking buddies. There are over 300 members of my local timebank, so that's a lot of talent to tap. I found an ukulele teacher, who not only got me started on playing but also taught me how to pronounce "ukelele". I found a woman who is teaching me to sew. I found a woman who refurbishes cast iron, and a man who offers a nonjudgmental listening ear. That last I wasn't sure about, but he worked the same garage sale that I did, and I noted how peaceful he was with other people, and how much listening he did at the time. So I booked an hour, and just got to complain and kvetch to my heart's content (to be fair, I told him that's what I was going to do and gave him a chance to back out). The session wasn't much like therapy, but it was really healing for me. Being able to talk about my problems led me to seeing solutions I hadn't considered before. As I move away from a money-based economy, time banking has a real place in my life. I'm looking forward to doing more, and spending my hours on those services I used to spend money for.
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Okay, folks. For transparency and accountability: I've spent money all but 2 days so far this month. I've overspent my spending plan, which was $10/week.
Details: I spent $13 on the Headspace app because I wanted to do two specific meditation series; $5 and $10 to worthy causes on GoFundMe; a couple of coffees, and yesterday I actually went shopping (gasp!) I hit up a clothing store where I have $80 credit and bought black jeans which look great on me and a Chico's red & black shirt & what-the-hell-throw-in-some-earrings...totaled about $30. I headed into the Discovery Shop (benefits the American Cancer Association) and housewares & pink tags were on 50% off. I got two items for my room at $2 each, and spent the rest of the $11 buying stuff for my spring garage sale at a dollar or less each. I'm planning a $2-$5 for every item garage sale in March. It's specifically to raise money for an emergency savings fund. Lastly, I've used my Starbuck's card twice (and bought my lunch with rewards points). And I gave Penn $12 for a prescription & $10 for bumming around money. This is all to say: I'm not clean, and I'm not perfect. I'm still susceptable to whim and I do get a high from shopping. I notice I'm trying to justify most of my purchases by the "it's for a good cause clause". I feel a little guilty from the shopping. But I also feel like putting it in perspective, which has led me to post these Impulsive Shopping Recovery Steps as a guide for myself.
So my plan is to stay aware, and keep trying. I may never be able to completely stop all impulsive buying -- or hey, it's early days yet, maybe I will someday. But what I'm actually aiming for is a lifestyle I can sustain. So follow the steps above and stay aware. More info bmjopen.bmj.com/content/6/6/e011045 Estimating the number of quit attempts it takes to quit smoking successfully in a longitudinal cohort of smokers. Chaiton, M. et al., BMJ Open, 2016 https://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/200405/the-surprising-truth-about-addiction?collection=10075 Peele, S. "The Surprising Truth About Addiction," Psychology Today. May, 2004 I went shopping yesterday - or rather, met a friend for coffee and walked through some thrift stores on my way back. Although I did spend money (3.00 for coffee and tip, 3.50 on thrift store items to turn around at a garage sale in the future), most of the trip ended up being a foraging trip. From two different boxes of free books, I got: a book written in 1957 on hypnosis for hysterical neuroses (and it is hysterical -- I'm going to turn it into an art book); a book of photographs of food art -- onion heads turned into faces with black-eyed pea eyes and the like; a John Grisham novel; and an old book on Katherine by Anne Sexton Chase, published sometime in the 1950s, a little water damage but otherwise in good shape, no mustiness.
I also found a desk lamp, the kind without a base and that screws into a desk, dumped in the parking strip on the street uphill from my house. I got it because it had four good-looking springs that I was sure I could do something with later, and I could take it apart for screws and interesting metal pieces. But I put a bulb into it to make sure it didn't work -- and it did! It worked fine! Since I've been needing a source of brighter light in my room, I gerried it into place between my bed and the wall for now, and now I can read in bed. Yay! One for the team! And my favorite coffee person gave me an unworking Disney Mickey Mouse watch. I'm going to experiment with trying to get it running again. Otherwise, fodder for mixed media and collage art. The thrift items I found were 50% off an already low price ($1 - $2). I picked up a votive holder and a few saucers to use in my room for now, and as garage sale filler for later. I'm already planning a garage sale this coming spring -- maybe April. I started a file for my expenditures, and another just to list impulse buys. And...that brings you up to date! My goal this month is to stay within $10/week of discretionary spending after planned purchases like a one-month subscription to the meditation app I've been using for the last 45 days. IMost people are familiar with the phrase "reduce, reuse, recycle" as a way of helping preserve (or at least slow the destruction of) the environment. And in cities that offer recycling, most people take advantage of it and feel they are doing their part. But reusing resources has a larger impact on the environment. And reducing our need for new things has the greatest impact of all. The the United States supports less than 5% of the global population, we use about a quarter of the world's resources -- 27% of its coal, 27% of its natural gas, and 25% of its oil. Though average household size has gone down since 1970, average house size has gone up. Though the planet provides about 4.6 acres of biologically productive land for each person on it, the average American uses almost 24 acres -- far more than our share.(1) In response to a recent letter in Scientific American, David Tilford of the Sierra Club, states that a child born in the United States will create 13 times as much damage as the child born in Brazil over the course of a lifetime. Americans lead the world in consuming goods even among other developed nations. We use twice as much fossil fuel resources per capita as Britain, and two and a half times as Japan. (2) Most ecologically minded consumers have already started the downsizing process; however, we have so much further to go. The impact of our efforts must be larger if we are to have a chance of surviving as the human race. But every decade reveals another ecological crisis, and conditions continue to worsen. What can we do about it? Start taking "reduce" as a serious mandate. Stop buying new things that we don't really need. Start grassroots campaigns to buy less (or nothing!). If every American were to cut his or her consumption of new goods down by 50 or even 25 percent, that would have a marked effect on the environment. If further, every American were to take public transit or walk or bike for a couple of days a week, that would have even a more significant effect. If we were to eat 10% or 20% less than we do, most of us wouldn't starve, but would simply be able to tighten our literal belts a little. Challenge yourself to reduce your consumer habits. Try a day of buying nothing, or if that's too easy, try a week or a month. This month has had a great impact on me. I've had a chance to notice how severe my cravings for consuming goods were -- just kicking the habit of shopping felt like going through withdrawals. I've had a chance to really tease out what my values are around money, and I've had a shot at developing substitutes for new items by relying on networks and some of the junk in my house. I've developed the habit of googling "lifehacks X" (where X equals what it is I desire), or "lifehacks Y" (where Y equals the item I'm about to throw away or recycle). My friend bought me a coffee at Starbucks today (yes, I still have a long way to go). When I got home I google "life hacks coffee cup" and "life hacks coffee sleeve". I made an iPhone holder out of an inverted bowl, an inverted coffee cup, and the Starbucks coffee cup this morning, and then used the phone's camera to film me organizing a junk drawer, using the coffee sleeve to hold hairpins, and the lid to collect all my earplugs in. I'm really happy with what I've learned this month. I plan to repeat a "Buy Nothing Month" 4 times in the next year, October, February, May, and August. I'll keep you updated here. As to what I plan for tomorrow, September 1st? I'll buy a croissant for my daughter and catch up with her summer. In my "consumer months" I'll be spending up to $10/week on discretionary items above needs. At the beginning of this month that would have felt like a severe deprivation. From this end, it feels like a fortune.
There is nothing wrong with the word "budget" in its purest form. Merriam-Webster defines it as "a plan of coordination of resources and expenditures" and as a "statement of the financial position" of an entity. I have no problem with that, right? It's a good thing to be able to take stock of what you have and what you need and design a way to make sure the lights don't go off. Culturally, however, the word "budget" has negative connotations. It is something one "goes on" (or worse, is "put on") when one is in dire straights. In our fundamentally Puritanical culture, if one "has to go on a budget", it's generally after someone has done something irresponsible or stupid with money. One "lives within" a budget like an invisible cage. Budgets crunch and squeeze. Movie producers are said to "run over budget" when they've spent too much, meaning that the movie is now in debt to what it might be able to generate in revenue. One has "champagne tastes" but a "beer budget," meaning that what one truly wants is probably beyond the ability of that person to get it. One lives on a "shoestring budget" when one is "as poor as a church mouse". Over generations, the "budget" has taken on layers of meaning that use disempowering language about the person who has one. Enter the Spending Plan. A spending plan puts the power back in your hands. Where a personal budget is often experienced as a reaction to a resource crisis, a spending plan is proactive. Where a budget is seen as restrictive, a spending plan is seen as flexible. Where a budget starts with needs, a spending plan starts with values. In a budget, needs come first. In a spending plan, you decide your priorities. You start with your resources, not with your bills. A budget reflects a scarcity mentality, while a spending plan starts with abundance. To many, the difference between a budget and a spending plan is as different as saying "I can't" instead of "I choose not to." This was my understanding when I sat down to create my spending plan. I've been thinking a lot about it. I want to live simply, but I also want to make sure that I can have what I want and need, and that I don't forget all the fun stuff in the midst of making sure my needs are met. What is most fun to me? What have I missed the most while spending nothing? Mostly just those mornings I can leave the house, head out into the city, and find a good cup of coffee somewhere. I wanted to make sure that any spending plan I had allowed for enough to do that, so I created a "discretionary fund" category. I don't need to spend money just for fun, but I might like to go into a thrift shop or a used book store now and then. Or I might want to give $5 to Mary's Place or a food bank. So the first thing I did was to say "I want to have $10/week to spend" and make sure that particular priority came first. A second priority was to start saving. I'm 51, and while I'm actually already retired, I'm one disaster away from living in the streets. So saving became the second thing on my spending plan. There are three things I want to save for: an Emergency Fund, a Retirement Fund, and a Purple Mattress. I've worked out a savings plan that will have me buying one by December of 2018. Sooner if I find enough money on the sidewalk to add to the fund. By December, I'll know if my housemate Sam's bed is still as comfortable as it is now (Heaven!). If not, I'll have a good chunk of money saved to find something better. In my spending plan, I'm also starting to allocate money to retirement. That won't start until after the new year, but it is a long-term goal, and as I pay down other debts, the money becomes available for a retirement fund. As above, about 22% of my income will go to savings eventually. The next thing I want to spend money on is "self-care". That's a category that covers everything from rent to the occasional counseling session. That's where I put the things that make my life easier: a bus pass, food. The occasional massage or hair cut. And then, my decision: to pay off the bills that I owe money on. It feels good to me to be able to pay down what I owe. The spending plan I came up with today. I planned not just for one month, but for several months in the future, and I could see how things would crystallize down the line. By December of 2019, I could have an Emergency Fund of 3 months worth of expenses, and a retirement account that I put $250 into every month. This spending plan is the culmination of what I'm learning in this Buy Nothing Month. This month has given me freedom and clarity, and I plan to do a Buy Nothing Month every third month to get a better grounding in this lifestyle and in being less dependent on capitalism. Do your spending priorities match your values?
This morning I took a trip to my favorite neighborhood in Seattle. I had three items of clothing to bring to a consignment store, to see if I could sell them there. I've been doing this for about two years, so I was warmly greeted by the shop owner, who informed me that I had $67 on credit , and I could take it in cash or opt to leave it on credit. I decided that I would leave it in credit for the next few months. Next, I browsed at a thrift store I particularly like that benefits the American Cancer Association. It has exceptional deals for the last four days of the month. In the "free books" section in the back I found a copy of a Ray Bradbury novel I haven't read. So I took it with me. If I weren't doing a buy nothing month, I could get an overlooked piece of clothing or house item for a dollar. I do this from time to time: the clothing items I select specifically for taking to the consignment store. I take them home, wash, de-pill, and iron them, and sometimes my share from when they are sold adds up to $4 - 7 per item. It's labor intensive, and no one is going to make a living doing this, but I have the time and I love clothes. This is an easy way to build credit with the consignment store that I really do like. In theory, I could also buy all the house-hold items for $1, build a collection, and then have a massive garage sale, selling them each for $2-4, but I don't have the storage space. Also, I find that when I buy things there I love them. I found a teapot there for $1 last month. I could sell it online for $30 or $40 -- but I'm not going to. It's beautiful, in perfect condition, and fits my room exactly. Last month I found a delicate Eileen Fisher dress there, with a matching cardigan -- for a dollar. I took it to the consignment shop and it sold for $90. That's rare, but lovely when it happens. The trick is to avoid bringing home things that won't sell. I'm getting better at it. When I left there, I bypassed the book store but waved to the guys who work there. It's a used book store and I bring in my books for credit towards half of the (used) book price. That means I can find recent books for $2-8. Most often, I am drawn to the $3 books displayed outside. These are sensational titles and great reads that are just overstocked. Mostly, though, I drop in from time to time because I just like the staff. Next up: I talked with a Planned Parenthood activist for a good, long while and enjoyed the conversation very much. I missed my bus, so after the conversation was over, I wandered into the bread store which gives out samples to anyone who comes in. They recognize me because I'm often in there buying multiple loaves at a time for my household. I sat for awhile, enjoying the space and the free slice of bread, and then, because it was a particularly fine day, I went to the bus stop and just spent the rest of the time there. I could have gone into the pharmacy to look at free samples. I could have wandered through the antiques mall just to look, or through the furniture consignment store to get ideas for crafts. I could have stopped at the hardware store and looked at what mixed paint samples were for sale -- just out of interest. There is a coffee shop there where I can use a coffee card of a friend who paid ahead of time for 20 coffees just before finding out he couldn't do coffee anymore. I love going there. I've missed it, because I had decided not to go there this month much. I didn't want to tempt myself. But as I move forward, I want to build a schedule that includes one morning a week at The Junction -- just because it gives me so much joy. And next month? At the end of September? I may go to the thrift store and stock up on items for an October garage sale. Buy Nothing Month, Day 23. I'm getting there! It's been over three weeks now without buying anything. I wonder how long I could keep up a streak of not buying anything? Just to the end of the month? Another week or month beyond that? Maybe a whole year, as Lee Simpson did? For an unlimited period of time? I wonder what it would take for me to really take on Buy Nothing as a lifestyle, a decades-long habit, rather than a time-limited challenge?
And how could I do that living in the city? While looking presentable, or nay, even elegant? I wonder. Because a month of buying nothing -- that's an adventure. A year may be an education. But a lifetime of not buying things, other than basics, groceries, transportation...what would that look like? Would I become a run-down looking spinster with permanent worry lines and rags for clothing? Or, in a country like the United States, would stuff just keep flowing into and out of my life? I'd like to find out. But I'd also like to buy this book. Or hey -- it occurs to me that if Seattle Public Library doesn't have it, I can request it from Inter Library Loan. If I did adopt this as a lifestyle, what other kinds of resources would I need? Obviously, household sundries, the occasional cleaning supply -- I'd include those as groceries. What is it that I miss spending money on the most? Easy. Coffee, out in the world. I'm fine with not buying coffee this month. I could keep that up for awhile. But to make buying nothing a real lifestyle, I'd have to find an alternative (a) low-key go-to social activity, (b) restful place to hang out, and (c) motivation to leave the house. Low-key social activity ideas: I could meet up with people at a park at least 6 months out of the year. I could meet people downtown or on the campus of South Seattle College. I could walk with people. I could have them over for a cup of tea and conversation. There is book club. Being with a social partner means I'm often going places and meeting up with him. I also live with a rotating cast of characters who might be willing to walk out with me. A restful place to hang out (other than my home): Libraries, community centers. I could just sit in the lobby at Delridge Community Center (for that matter, I could meet someone there). I could sit in office buildings downtown. I could keep my eyes open for small, restful nooks and crannies that defy categorization. There's a rooftop garden on the 7th floor of the 4th & Madison Building for example. I could sit at the DMV without taking a number I suppose. The one near my house is pretty nice actually. Great place to people-watch. Not leaving the house has been the easiest way to not spend money this month. I love being at home, and it's been restful on my spirit as well as my budget, and I've made real headway on cooking, gardening & crafts. But it's also stagnating, and has brought about a familiar reluctance to leave the house that, if left untended, has led to phobia in the past. So, other than shopping and coffee, what would motivate me to leave the house? Getting to hang out with friends is my biggest motivation. Scouting an excellent conversation is a real treat. And there are many people all over the region whom I miss. What if I were to meet up with every local facebook friend, for example? There is walking. Once I get started walking, I love it. I could make it part of my morning routine every day, or every other day. The Chinese Garden is a block from my house. I could go there every day and not get tired of it. I could design adventures/explorations with unique themes. Spend a month riding buses just to eavesdrop and report lines of interesting conversations, for example. Go to all the DMVs and write stories about the people I see there. Take a photo every day. Visit all public libraries in alphabetical order. Visit all health club facilities in the region to get a free tour and workout. Or maybe just hang out at Seattle Center a couple of times a week and picnic by the fountain or in the Center House. These all strike me as appealing ideas. What would be the hardest thing to give up if you were to do a buy nothing month? So I didn't go to Madras, Oregon with my housemates to get a front row seat at for the Solar eclipse this week. I'm not much for crowds and besides, I've already seen the sun blotted out and the sky go black. The only difference this time is that other people could see it too. I opted to stay home instead and have a retreat of sorts, a week of solitude and peace, buzzing along happily from one project to the next. I would be happy watching the eclipse on NASA's live feed, and keeping an eye on the chickens to see if they freaked out. (They didn't. For the curious, they didn't roost either. They just sort of went along being chickens.)
As the moment of totality neared, I started smelling smoke. Maybe it was from the ions caused by the eclipse or something, who knew. Before my housemates had left I'd promised not to go downstairs if I was cooking, so I was upstairs while making lunch, which was to involve a piece of Dave's killer seed bread and maybe some tomatoes. I was on the computer watching the countdown when smoke started filling the room. I walked into the kitchen. Smoke spilled out the sides of the toaster oven. And inside the toaster oven, there was a beautiful blue fire, burning in a square shape along the sides and top of the toast. Now, I knew the fire was already getting some oxygen, and that I didn't want to give it a lot more oxygen by opening the toaster oven door. I knew this and had this thought consciously even as I reached forward to open the toaster oven door. Instantly the flames moved to the front of the toast, ready to leap out of the oven. I burrowed in the closest cabinet and came up with flour. My thought was to smother the flames which, while not large, already licked the top edge of the toaster where there were pieces of bread going stale for bread crumbs. And above that, the paper towels, hanging on the bottom edge of a wooden cabinet. Was there also a fire extinguisher? Yes! Right next to the toaster oven. Did it occur to me to use it? No. I started flinging double handfuls of flour into the fire as the sky grew darker, an impassioned witch casting a habitat preservation spell. It wasn't entirely doing the trick, so I dumped an entire two pounds of flour into the toaster oven. That did it. Fire smothered, in one of the dumbest ways possible. Kids, do not try this at home. Flour can explode if heated too quickly, and flour dust is flammable. I was lucky it went out so quickly. And now that I've unplugged (smart thing #1) and cleaned the toaster oven (smart thing #2), I'm going to let it completely dry overnight tonight (smart thing #3) to test if it works, after clearing more counter space (smart thing #4) and reviewing how the fire extinguisher works (smart thing #5). With any luck, the toaster will work fine. It seems however, that the timer is broken, as the dial was stuck right where I left it. Anyway: Buy Nothing Money-Saving Tip for the Day: Don't set the house on fire. Oh Sweet Mama Cash, Goddess of Shopping Carts and the Continue Shopping Button -- I confess it. I really, really want to shop today. It's not that I don't have anything to do. I have plenty to do, even plenty of free, fun, stuff to do. It's just that I NEEEEEED something. I know I have passing thoughts every day (like "hmm...I could use a couple more nice short-sleeved date blouses"). But today's cravings are sharp, like the hunger pangs of a just-waking bulimic bear who purged right before hibernation. (So shoot me; I'm not so good with the similes.) Mother of Ebay, I have issues coming up that I don't want to deal with. The world around us has exploded and a lot of people are waking up right now to their privilege. And I do have privilege -- oh my god, how *much* privilege I walk around with. I was gifted with an honest face at birth. So I can lie straight to your face and you probably won't question me. I'm a native English speaker. So I automatically understand most instructions that come to me in government packets. I'm white. I don't have to look over my shoulder in public, or try to be invisible when cops are around. But as You on Your Golden Throne (in the Women's Restroom at the Downtown Macy's, the best place to do one's business in Seattle) know, I'm also paranoid. Thou hast seen me look over my shoulder in public, and Dear Sister of Sweets, save me from cops noticing me. Thou knowst how, as my world shrinks, I need to dive deep into the Sacred Pools of Pages online, drooling as I fill and empty, fill and empty shopping carts, only to fill them once more in pursuit of the ideal number and type of purchases that will give me POWER and CHOICE and FREEDOM, for those are the things I seek when I shop. Dear Father Fingerhut, I thank Thee for the gifts Thou hast wrought: new blenders and space-saving vacuum bags, "dorm gear" (whatever that is), and a credit rating low enough to bring me compassion towards my less privileged brothers and sisters. To the Exalted Energies moving through Easy Street -- thank You for the hours of table space for coffee and the James Browns with Aadvark Sauce, affording me a safe space to escape the assault of the senses that is the Junction. O Glorious Giver: You know how much I've enjoyed being on my own for the last few days. You've inspired in me the freedom to dress up in costume and make faces at myself in the mirror. or practice the ukelele at midnight. But You have also left me alone a great deal to my own thoughts and fears. Captured me in the Crypt of Terror that is my own Mind. May this particular craving to buy something pass quickly, as I realize it is about wanting freedom from being trapped without having to do the work of freeing myself. I have set away the belief that if I can just spend money, it will fix everything. Tomorrow I will leave the house to take a walk. Today I'll just revel in the freedom of not having to go out. And boom. Just like that. [Craving diminished. It's always good to remember I have choices that don't rely on money, and that I am a power in my own life.] |
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ArchivesAuthorVirginia Lore enjoys living life as an experiment and frequently steps out of her comfort zone -- when she's not hiding out in her room with the covers over her head that is. You may email her: [email protected] |