Thoughts on Smaller/ Simpler Living

Some time just after hurricane Katrina happened a blog I read regularly wrote a post about a company called Tumbleweed Tiny Houses. The thing that interested the blogger at the time, having just been a Katrina survivor and losing just about everything she owned to the storm and flooding, was that some of these houses were small enough that they could be hitched up to a car like a trailer and driven away. The thing that interests me is that people actually live in these tiny houses full time. In fact Jay Shafer, the founder of Tumbleweed, lives in one of the smallest house models coming in right under 100sqft of living space.

I don’t know what it is exactly that I find so attractive about these tiny homes. It could just be a novelty or a cute idea to me, but it could be something else too. I was thinking this morning about it and while I know I could never live in a home as small as Jay does – especially with a dog, two cats, and oh yeah my husband. I think the novelty of it for me comes down to living in just the amount of space you need. Here in the US we’re all about bigger is better, but what happens to all of that space you aren’t living in and using on a regular basis? It ultimately becomes wasted space, a decorated show room that you need to dust and clean but never really use. I’m a pack rat. I always have been. I know a lot of the stuff that I have I may never use again but I still keep it around because hey one day I just may need my high school chemistry notes. Ok, I’m not that extreme, but I know people who are. With such a small amount living space it force me, at least I hope that it would, to minimize what and how I consume.

There are many reasons to down size your living space, including what I mentioned before. Ultimately the largest reason is an environmental one. How effective is it for one person to live in a 2000sqft house with all the trimmings? The same person would likely do just as well in half or less space, but our American imperialist attitude is to conquer the space both with ourselves and the things we own. You don’t see that in Europe, you don’t see that in Asia, heck you don’t see it in Canada, because they tend to take advantage of the space they have not the space they believe they are entitled to. But I digress. Ultimately if we all lived in a smaller amount of space then that would leave more for the natural world, and because we are consuming less to fill these spaces it’s better for us environmentally and economically.

Can't Buy My Life

I recently go back in contact with a cousin on my mom's side of the family who I had not seen or talked to in years. To be honest I had been reluctant to re-initiate contact with her due to lack of contact and familiarity with the majority of my mom's side of the family. But, as my husband pointed out at the time, she took the effort to send me a high school graduation announcement the least we could do is send her a card and wish her well. I took it one step further and included my email address in the card putting the proverbial ball in her court. We started exchanging emails about two weeks ago, nothing too furious since it's like we're getting to know each other all over again.

One of the first things I asked her, which I am sure everyone is asking her, is what she plans to do now. From her response it sounded like she was attending college out of obligation more than a desire to further her education, and therefore really undecided about what she's going to do once she got to college. I think a lot of kids that are graduating from high school may be feeling this way. Like going to college is just what you do after high school and that's really the only reason for it. Like it's training wheels for real life. This may be, but some one is putting up thousands of dollars for those training wheels. I am not by any means saying that this is wrong - hell I will be the first to point out that that's pretty much what I did. But college really is a life in and of itself. I took it as an opportunity to redefine myself as me rather than my parent's child.

I was trying my hardest to avoid the roll of "older wiser cousin" mostly because I did not know how she would take it, but since she brought up that she was undecided about what she would major in, I figured I would pass something on to her and she could take it or leave it. "One of my professors told me this when I had to finalize my major my sophomore year at college: Major in what you love to do, there will be few opportunities in life to spend four years doing what you love. The only time a major REALLY matters is if you want to go to grad school or you want a career in something you need a specific degree for."

To be honest, I think that was one of the best pieces of advice I have ever received, because if you think about it, how many people really use the degree they got? All that matters now is that you have a degree and perhaps where you got it from. I am very happy, for one, to have taken that advice and would likely have regretted making another decision. And no, I'm not using my major or minor on a daily basis but the education itself was very valuable.

Mill Ends Park

I heard not too long after moving to Portland that among all of the fabulous parks in the city, we had the World's Smallest Park. The story behind this park just goes to show you how original and quirky the people that live in this city can be, and part of why I love it.

Mill Ends Park is 24" in diameter and was acquired by the Portland's Park & Rec in 1976 it is in the center meridian at the intersection of Taylor Rd and Naito Pkwy (Front Ave). Originally this park was supposed to house a light pole, but when the light pole never came, the park's founder Donald Fagan decided to pretty up the useless weed filled dirt spot and planted flowers in it.

Read more about it here: http://www.portlandonline.com/parks/finder/index.cfm?PropertyID=265&action=ViewPark
or here:
http://bitsandpieces.us/2008/06/30/worlds-smallest-designated-city-park/

Wedding Bells

Someone I had met a while ago sent me an IM last night about fifteen minutes before I was to leave work for the day simply saying: "How did you plan a wedding and not go crazy?" I responded simply: Lists. But she responded "No, I've got that down. I mean with the family drama." That subject is something that they don't really talk about in the wedding magazines and I think everyone deals with. I was fairly fortunate, I think, to come away with only a small amount of manageable drama. Here is what I said to her in an email later:

"As for family drama there were two things that I noticed that really came out around my wedding time. 1) Other people trying to force their opinions on you and trying to make up for their own wedding, and 2) imagining that the wedding day would some how cause peace among otherwise warring parties (be it family members or friends). The key to drama like that is being realistic knowing that it's YOUR wedding. While it will be a happy occasion, it will not align the planets and cause people to like each other any more than they already do. That usually takes a lot of alcohol. :-D Just kidding about the alcohol. But in all honesty you can't take it all to heart, you can't make it all your problem, if you do in the end you'll just make yourself crazy and nothing will have been solved. This is your special day, make it what you want it to be.

And when the big day finally arrives just remember to breathe and relax, everything is taken care of. If something goes wrong? Then let it. Worst case scenario is you'll have a great story to tell and then have to go to a justice of the peace the next day."

I hope this helps out anyone else out there who is suffering under the pull of family drama.

Does the written word remain?

I have been part of a fairly active book club for almost a year now. The book we are currently reading is The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. The main female character, Clare, is an artist. In one small portion of the story that I just read she talks about the strain between being an artist and being able to support yourself and also allowing time to nurture your artistic side. It’s a difficult balance. I struggle with it myself and still haven’t found a way that works for me. I frequently feel as if my artistic side it starving because I don’t take the time to write or sew or doodle any more.

The last few years I have endeavored upon a writing adventure known worldwide as National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). What is NaNoWriMo you may ask? NaNoWriMo happens during the month of November and participants attempt to write a 50,000 word novel from scratch (more about it at nanowrimo.org). This is a mighty feat, one which have only attained once in the four times I have attempted it. To be honest, it’s my own fault. But I had a good excuse. I always have a good excuse for not doing the things I love. Mostly I’m sure it’s just pure laziness. And that’s why I continue to kick myself. The one year I did complete the goal I was working part time, no more than thirty hours a week, and was living mostly alone. Having more free time allowed me to concentrate on that 1700 words a day goal.

Now that I am working full time, have a 45 minute to an hour commute on each side of my 8 to 5 work day. I feel like I barely have time to do the things I need to do let alone the things I want to do. With that in mind, I frequently find myself not working on the artsy things I enjoy doing. Like sewing or writing and even art on occasion. I suppose this blog is a decent substitute for my lack of writing otherwise, but there is no substitute for thrill of creating something new and exciting that I am truly proud of.

So then the dichotomy remains. I will continue to create in spurts when the moment catches me just at a good point where I have enough time to follow through with it, or I will continue to not create at all. Sometimes I wish I could have the best of both worlds.

Democratic Debacle

Things are getting pretty heated in the Democratic race for the presidency. Everyone knows that. Unless, of course, you have been living in a subterranean cave on a tiny island with no outside contact. The thing that strikes me the most is that everyone I have talked to about it is firmly planted on one candidate or the other, no one seems to be waffling like me, and with the Oregon primary in two weeks and it quickly gaining more importance than it’s ever had before, I really feel as if I should set down an official decision for myself.

To be honest, previously when asked I would sheepishly reply that I was a Hillary supporter, but that decision on my part was almost completely superficial. My opinion was based on three things: 1) she is a woman, and hey so am I! 2) If her presidency is anything like Bill’s was it would put us back into a good place as a country (for a moment let’s ignore the whole infidelity thing), it would take us out of the recession in the very least. 3) To be so strong as to cope with Bill’s infidelity under such a fine microscope and keep her head about her, I would have no qualms about her handling the country’s crises in a similar calm and direct fashion. I realize that these things are all opinion and not fact based on my part at all, which causes me to look back at Obama. Obama’s whole platform is change. I think everyone agrees that is what this country needs. He seems to be a strong, even tempered person with strong ethics. But where do we go from there.

Ultimately what it comes down to is: I am an uninformed voter, and it’s my own fault for being that way. What I really want is to know their stance on the issues I care about and what is most important to them. Yeah they can sit there and blabber about education, the environment, and what they will do about the cost of gas, but if really those are all just campaign promises unless they personally feel strongly about it then IT WILL GET DONE. I am currently trying to read through the issues pages on each of the candidates web sites. Hillary’s issues page seems to be arranged in a way that shows what is important to her, Obama’s is in alphabetical order.

I am trying to avoid being influenced by anyone else’s personal opinion and therefore avoiding other political websites for the moment, but we shall see when the time comes.

Slowly Going Mad

I like to read – probably not as much as a lot of other people, but I do enjoy it. I am always surprised when a book affects me in a profound way - because it does not happen to me all that frequently. This is likely due to the fact that I use reading as an escape rather than a reality check.

I just finished reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. If ever I identified with a book and a story line, it was that one. It wasn’t so much the plot itself but the emotional down fall and the realization that you don’t really want to be who society and your parents have prepared you to be. The main character, Esther, finds herself slowly dissolving from society’s expectations of her and floundering to find her own definition of self.

All in all, I came away from The Bell Jar being glad that I read it because of it’s place in literature, but being depressed by it because the story reminded too much of my own struggles.

Spare A Quarter?

As I mentioned in my previous post I am now working downtown. It’s interesting how different “the city” is from out in what may lovingly be considered the suburbs. This has become blaringly apparent to me in the over six months I have been working in the heart of Portland’s downtown.

One major thing that I notice daily, and hope to avoid more often than not, are the panhandlers. Technically they aren’t doing anything wrong as long as they don’t interfere with the “progress” of the pedestrians (the same goes for those trying to get petitions signed and handing out pamphlets) but realistically what do they expect from us, the passerby? They probably know that they aren’t going to get hundreds of dollars especially since a majority of the passersby do so regularly. The panhandlers I pass regularly have found comfort in front of a Rite Aid store that is almost to the MAX stop, so I am forced to walk by them every day in my best attempt to get home.

There are those that my heart breaks for, those I am annoyed by, and those that I wish would just go away.

My heart breaks for: the man who sits in a wheel chair on the sidewalk, no matter the weather, every morning with a small sign that says “I need money for the basics: Rent & Food.” He looks to be a veteran and not capable of doing much else to provide for himself. I would much prefer to buy him a cup of coffee or a sandwich than just give him some spare change and hopes he will get by.

Those I am annoyed by: He is an older man with a long beard and leather jacket. He looks like an old biker type to me. I am pretty sure he is not homeless since I have never seen him with any type of belongings other than what he is wearing. His position floats so I can never be sure as to where or when I will run in to him, but I seem him at least once a week. His standard greeting is an overly enunciated: “Spare a quarter?”. Something just bothers me about his demeanor and tone of voice. I suppose he’s much more abrasive than I expect a panhandler to be.

Those I wish would go away: There’s a group that looks to be in their early twenties that always have a beautiful and well behaved pit bull with them. This group varies between talking amongst themselves with their collection hat set out on the street to asking the passerby for money and then yelling something to / at them after they walk by without responding to their request. I’m pretty sure that this group has chosen this way of life, which makes me feel even less like tossing them a quarter.

I have nothing against these people, or panhandlers in general, but I think I have become hardened to their presence because I am guaranteed to encounter at least one everyday. I don’t want to feel like they are just taking up sidewalk, I feel badly that I have lost my humanity toward them and a part of me wishes that I could help them out and give them what they really need and not just a quarter. The reality is though that I know I can’t give them what they need; perhaps even they don’t know. I can barely give myself everything I need right now. Call me cold hearted if you will, but I realized not to long ago that I would quickly make myself broke if I gave a quarter every time to each panhandler that asked.