My ideal situation with books is to have a relatively few number, that I like to read over and over, and enjoy every time. And I'm almost there, now. I like to read a little bit of one book, then pick up another, etc. It takes a long time, usually, for me to finish a book, this way. But I like it. I don't get bored so easily, this way. I hate checking out library books, since I only have three weeks to finish a book, if I can't renew it. But I haven't bought a book brand-new in years, and I don't buy books often, so I don't spend very much money on books, anyway.
And I don't feel obligated to finish them, to start reading at the beginning (unless it's fiction), to read them straight through, or to read the boring parts or chapters. I pick up a book, read a little (opening to a random page, if it's non-fiction, because I like to do that), see if it's interesting to me--and with most books, I immediately get rid of them, because they don't hold my interest. It's taken years to get where I am now, with my attitude towards books, but anyone can work towards getting here, if this is what they want. And I still sometimes struggle with feeling like I have to finish a book, or wondering what information I will miss if I throw it out.
But I'm also very lucky, in that lately I have a lot of books that I love to read, even if it's just in tiny pieces here and there. I've got rid of thousands of books over the years, but I have about two or three hundred that I would love to read (and that includes everything from Chilton's car repair manuals, to "I Spy" picture books, so they're not all wordy or "smart.") But I'm always alert, when I'm reading, for whether a book is becoming boring and needs to be culled, so two or three hundred books is not as overwhelming as it sounds.
Yet I often have a dilemma: Do I choose to read the books I like first, or the books I don't suspect I will like, so that I can stop reading and get rid of them if they're bad? That's the question I struggle with all the time. I try to balance both approaches. Sometimes I even think, "This is good, but after I finish this section, I'm getting rid of the whole book." Or I decide that after I read it again once, out it goes.
With some books, I want to learn the information they have in them, but in spite of being excited about the subject of the book, the book itself is not that interesting. This happens a lot with feminist and LGBT books. I skip around, looking for interesting parts, and sometimes I am very thorough. But ultimately, if it is disappointing, I get rid of it, and vow to look for another book on the same subject that looks better. (Almost all used books, especially a few years old, can be bought on ebay or Thriftbooks.com for about $4.00, which includes shipping.)
Just because I don't have many (or for that matter, any) feminist or LGBT books, doesn't mean I'm not a proud feminist or LGBT ally. Don't think that the book is the part of you that you like about yourself or want to become.
Some books have been keepsakes, because my little brother (twelve years younger than me) teethed on them, or my late baby bunnies tore them up. But I didn't want to read them, much less keep them. So I took pictures of them, so that I could remember the bite marks or the shredded pages, then I got rid of them. If I really miss them, I can get books of the same exact title, and tear them up in a similar way or have the almost-thirteen-year-old Cody bite them again. Fortunately, I have not had to do these things so far. I'll bet Cody would bite a book for me, though; he's a pretty good kid.
If it's hard to get rid of books, you can have a notebook with a list of books you are getting rid of. You can write all
of them down, or just the best ones, but if you want them back, then you
can remember what they are, and get them back. I have a notebook that
is designated only for this list, so that I have plenty of room to add
to it, and I know exactly where the list is. I write the book's title
and the last name of the author, or one of the authors. After a while, you may not feel the
need to write down every book title anymore. I only write down the best of the castoffs, anymore. Some books are really good to read--but only once. Or sometimes I want to see what else the author has written, but I don't want to keep her books that I have already read. This makes it much easier to part with them.
With fiction, I personally am very picky. Literally the only fiction I have right now is the Harry Potter series. I also have two fiction books, in German, since I enjoy the language and like to read them aloud, even if I am out of practice and don't understand all of what I'm reading. But I don't count them in the same category as the English-language fiction.
If an English-language fiction book bores me from the start, then I skip around, and if I still can't find anything interesting in later chapters, out it goes. I am reading the Harry Potter series straight through from the beginning, but that is rare for me. I often skip entire chapters, to read only about my favorite characters or plot points (with the rare fiction book I like). I dog-ear the pages I skip, but I never go back to them, anyway.
I don't have too many German-language books, either (fiction or non), since I would rather have one or two favorites, to read over and over, than be overwhelmed by many books.
Some people say to get a Kindle and read books that way, but that's nonsense. Kindle books are usually much more expensive than regular used books, I (like many others) like regular books better, and if a book is older than the 2000s (or even if it's newer), chances are that it's not on Kindle, anyway. The selection is relatively small, the prices are relatively big, and paper is easier on the eyes. I have a Kindle (a gift, which I still like having, just in case), but I rarely use it.
There are many Kindle books available for $0.99, but the ones I've gotten are not worthwhile, anyway. Some Kindle books are free, though those are classics that have no copyright. If you like those, and have a Kindle (or Kindle account on your computer) already, go for it. But if you don't have a Kindle or account already, you can probably find them online. The website for my local public library has a lot of books you can read online, that have no copyright--and thus, you can read as many as you want, at once, and they don't count on your checkout limit, like the newer online and audio books. Check out your library's website, and see if it has a similar system. I know in Oregon, at least, all libraries have that.
And most importantly, please don't feel the need to finish any books! Life is too short to read boring books. Sometimes it is hard to realize when exactly a book is getting boring, but you will get better at it as you practice. There is also nothing wrong in reading only what you want out of a book (even if it's very little), and then getting rid of it. It's your life--the one and only life you know for sure that you have--so read only what you love! :)
Showing posts with label Stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stuff. Show all posts
Friday, May 20, 2016
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Minimalism: Create A "Mess Box"
I like to watch minimalism videos on Youtube, including ones where people are cleaning out their rooms and closets for the camera. I've seen them lament that their countertops or dressers have become a "catch-all" for all kinds of things that are out of place. But that puzzles me, because I think that catch-alls should be built into any system of organization.
I have a "mess box" that I put the mess in, temporarily, so that it doesn't clutter up my dresser and floor. I keep it under my bed. Anything that is out of place, that I just bought and need to put away but am too tired to do so, or that I find on the floor, goes in the box. If I did not have a mess box, then the mess would be out in my bedroom, cluttering it up and cluttering up my mind. I have a designated catch-all, so my dresser and floor don't become accidental catch-alls and let things get in my way.
I have at least two mess boxes, in fact, at any given time. I have one for bigger things--comic books to put away, things that I've purchased that day, papers, craft supplies out of place, etc--and one for smaller things. The smaller one is only about the size of a small shoebox, and all of the little things go in there--gum, mustard packets, beads that need to get put away, lip balm, odd bits of ribbon, etc. I fill up the little one before using the big one, unless the item is too big.
In this way, the mess is contained, and I keep my clarity of mind. I like to go through my stuff, so when I have the time, I go back through one of the mess boxes, putting things in the appropriate piles and putting them away.
If my bedroom is so messy that I don't know where to start, I put everything in the mess boxes (as many as I need), and then go through the boxes. It is much less overwhelming to go through a box of stuff than to go through the top of a dresser. Everything unnecessary on the dresser goes into a box, and I deal with it then. And it's not overwhelming anymore! It's such a relief!
Anything I have to deal with later, goes in the box. Anything I stumble around, goes in the box. Anything that is hard to put away at the moment, goes in the box. It makes everything so simple! There is a danger that the boxes will fill up, but when they do (and most of the time, well before they do), I simply go through the boxes.
Sometimes I go through the big mess box, and put the little things into the little mess box, to deal with later. It helps to deal with the big things, if you're not overwhelmed with the little things, and vice versa! Little things are particularly overwhelming to me, so I especially love the little mess box. But the big things are also so much easier to deal with, if they're all gathered in a box.
I have many different kinds of mess boxes too. I have one for art supplies--pencils, charcoal, paper pads I'm not using, anything like that goes into that box; I don't have room to put all of my art supplies in one place, so they go here before being put away. I have one for herbs and teas, one for non-perishable food, one for yarn and other crafts. A drawer in my dresser is a catch-all for clean clothes that I could wear again, until I put them away into the other drawers. And of course I have a hamper for my dirty clothes, until I put them in the laundry room. I also have an arts and crafts mess box, near my chair where I work, so that I don't scatter little things around my side table and floor.
My life has become so much neater and simpler since I discovered this trick. It is so much easier to put everything into a box, even if I am putting it away right away. I scan the floor or dresser, figure out the things that don't need to be there, and put them in the box. Then it becomes easier to deal with them, because I know when I'm done cleaning and organizing and putting things away. I am done when the box is empty (or nearly so, though it is only a temporary home for stuff). It's much harder to determine when a dresser or the floor is clear, however.
This also makes it easier to group like items together, before putting them away. If there is an eraser on the dresser, and one on the floor, you have to get out the art-supply box twice just to put them both away while cleaning. But if everything out of place is in a box, then all you have to do is go through the box, picking out all of the brushes, erasers, charcoal sticks, and other art supplies, and putting them away all at once. And this is just one example.
This makes getting rid of stuff easier, too, since you are going through just one box, and not a whole room at once.
This also makes finding things so much easier! I know that if I'm missing something, there is a good chance that it is in one of the mess boxes, since I put everything in there. The only things that lie scattered about my floor are cat toys, and I try to limit those to the ones I actually see the cats playing with.
Now, this mess box is not the same as the box where everything goes, that does not have a home elsewhere.
Things may go from the mess box to the miscellaneous box, to be put away, but I don't put the messes in the miscellaneous box. That just creates more confusion. Little things might be put in baggies and go in the miscellaneous box or some other place, but I don't leave them in the mess box as their home. That just creates more confusion.
The mess box is a temporary home. It is a box that, if everything is put away, it is intentionally left empty, to be filled in case of mess or if something else comes into the house.
And I have at least two "empty" boxes at all times, a big one and a smaller one, because nothing makes a big box seem messy and overwhelming like little things cluttering it up. And some things are too big to be put in the smaller box, and so end up becoming messes in my room and my life.
It is such a relief, since I discovered this system. When my bedroom is messy, I feel overwhelmed. But now I have a simple solution, and even going through the boxes is much easier than sorting through a whole surface, floor, or room. I can go through either mess box, while watching Youtube videos and relaxing, and I don't even have to get up to sort through these things! I do have to get up to put them away, but I only do that when I've found all of the items in a given category. And when I do put them away, I know exactly where they go, and I'm not wandering aimlessly looking for something among the things that are actually supposed to be there.
I have a "mess box" that I put the mess in, temporarily, so that it doesn't clutter up my dresser and floor. I keep it under my bed. Anything that is out of place, that I just bought and need to put away but am too tired to do so, or that I find on the floor, goes in the box. If I did not have a mess box, then the mess would be out in my bedroom, cluttering it up and cluttering up my mind. I have a designated catch-all, so my dresser and floor don't become accidental catch-alls and let things get in my way.
I have at least two mess boxes, in fact, at any given time. I have one for bigger things--comic books to put away, things that I've purchased that day, papers, craft supplies out of place, etc--and one for smaller things. The smaller one is only about the size of a small shoebox, and all of the little things go in there--gum, mustard packets, beads that need to get put away, lip balm, odd bits of ribbon, etc. I fill up the little one before using the big one, unless the item is too big.
In this way, the mess is contained, and I keep my clarity of mind. I like to go through my stuff, so when I have the time, I go back through one of the mess boxes, putting things in the appropriate piles and putting them away.
If my bedroom is so messy that I don't know where to start, I put everything in the mess boxes (as many as I need), and then go through the boxes. It is much less overwhelming to go through a box of stuff than to go through the top of a dresser. Everything unnecessary on the dresser goes into a box, and I deal with it then. And it's not overwhelming anymore! It's such a relief!
Anything I have to deal with later, goes in the box. Anything I stumble around, goes in the box. Anything that is hard to put away at the moment, goes in the box. It makes everything so simple! There is a danger that the boxes will fill up, but when they do (and most of the time, well before they do), I simply go through the boxes.
Sometimes I go through the big mess box, and put the little things into the little mess box, to deal with later. It helps to deal with the big things, if you're not overwhelmed with the little things, and vice versa! Little things are particularly overwhelming to me, so I especially love the little mess box. But the big things are also so much easier to deal with, if they're all gathered in a box.
I have many different kinds of mess boxes too. I have one for art supplies--pencils, charcoal, paper pads I'm not using, anything like that goes into that box; I don't have room to put all of my art supplies in one place, so they go here before being put away. I have one for herbs and teas, one for non-perishable food, one for yarn and other crafts. A drawer in my dresser is a catch-all for clean clothes that I could wear again, until I put them away into the other drawers. And of course I have a hamper for my dirty clothes, until I put them in the laundry room. I also have an arts and crafts mess box, near my chair where I work, so that I don't scatter little things around my side table and floor.
My life has become so much neater and simpler since I discovered this trick. It is so much easier to put everything into a box, even if I am putting it away right away. I scan the floor or dresser, figure out the things that don't need to be there, and put them in the box. Then it becomes easier to deal with them, because I know when I'm done cleaning and organizing and putting things away. I am done when the box is empty (or nearly so, though it is only a temporary home for stuff). It's much harder to determine when a dresser or the floor is clear, however.
This also makes it easier to group like items together, before putting them away. If there is an eraser on the dresser, and one on the floor, you have to get out the art-supply box twice just to put them both away while cleaning. But if everything out of place is in a box, then all you have to do is go through the box, picking out all of the brushes, erasers, charcoal sticks, and other art supplies, and putting them away all at once. And this is just one example.
This makes getting rid of stuff easier, too, since you are going through just one box, and not a whole room at once.
This also makes finding things so much easier! I know that if I'm missing something, there is a good chance that it is in one of the mess boxes, since I put everything in there. The only things that lie scattered about my floor are cat toys, and I try to limit those to the ones I actually see the cats playing with.
Now, this mess box is not the same as the box where everything goes, that does not have a home elsewhere.
Things may go from the mess box to the miscellaneous box, to be put away, but I don't put the messes in the miscellaneous box. That just creates more confusion. Little things might be put in baggies and go in the miscellaneous box or some other place, but I don't leave them in the mess box as their home. That just creates more confusion.
The mess box is a temporary home. It is a box that, if everything is put away, it is intentionally left empty, to be filled in case of mess or if something else comes into the house.
And I have at least two "empty" boxes at all times, a big one and a smaller one, because nothing makes a big box seem messy and overwhelming like little things cluttering it up. And some things are too big to be put in the smaller box, and so end up becoming messes in my room and my life.
It is such a relief, since I discovered this system. When my bedroom is messy, I feel overwhelmed. But now I have a simple solution, and even going through the boxes is much easier than sorting through a whole surface, floor, or room. I can go through either mess box, while watching Youtube videos and relaxing, and I don't even have to get up to sort through these things! I do have to get up to put them away, but I only do that when I've found all of the items in a given category. And when I do put them away, I know exactly where they go, and I'm not wandering aimlessly looking for something among the things that are actually supposed to be there.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Minimalism: Getting Rid Of Nail Polish
I like having nail polish in ever color I can, so it was scary to get rid of even one bottle. I found a system that worked for me and let me get rid of some colors painlessly, though.
I got rid of about twenty-five bottles, and I still have about fifty-four bottles (collected over the years, almost all of them cheaper brands, and once I got multiple bottles when my favorite, rare color was being discontinued). I'm still going through them, and maybe I'll get rid of more, but right now I have both a huge rainbow of colors, and I hopefully have only what I'm likely to use.
Here's what I've found to be helpful. It was painful to even think about getting rid of some, at first, because I've gotten rid of nail polish and regretted it, before. So I go slow when going through anything, and make sure that I don't think I'll want it again.
Use these tips, if you like. I hate it when books or people try to tell me what to do, so apply these suggestions as far as you want to apply them:
1) Get rid of the colors that are so thin, that you need four coats and a strong light just to see them. I like thicker nail polishes, and richer colors, so that I don't have to waste a lot of time putting on multiple coats.
2) Don't collect a whole series of colors. Or, unless you like them all, don't keep them all. This is your personal collection, and if some colors are too thin, or you don't like them, they're not worthy of you.
3) Write down a list of colors and brands you get rid of, if it makes you feel better, so you can get them back later if you regret it. This doesn't work for discontinued colors, but you might be able to get them online, or a shade like it, if you really want to get rid of a discontinued color.
4) When you have two or more shades that are just off of each other, put them on side-by-side and compare them, then keep the color you like best. You may discover, also, that one color is very thin, and so you can get rid of that one in favor of the more vivid one. Ironically, Avon's Vivid Violet is not vivid at all. More vivid was its cousin, Avon's Decadence. Avon is very thin sometimes, if it's not a dark color.
5) I got rid of some nail art tools and decals, because I don't care to do nail art. You may like it, but if you don't, then you won't miss the supplies. You could always use sponges and toothpicks, if really you want to do nail art.
6) I also got rid of some colors I just didn't like, at least as much as other colors. They were all fairly common shades, so I could get them back, or something similar, if I wanted. I may not have grey, or gold glitter, but I could easily get it, if I really wanted it.
7) When buying nail polish, apply what I call the Rule of Immediate Consumption: If you don't want to wear it that very night, then don't buy it. You can get multiple shades, even with this rule, if you love them. But if you don't want to wear them right away, then you probably don't love them. I apply this rule to clothes, too, even if I don't get to wear them right away, as long as I would wear them right away.
8) I have a small plastic box with all of my nail polishes, and I like to arrange them in rows (as much as I can with the different-shaped bottles), and in rainbow order (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple), then pink, white, black, gold, and silver. This way, I know exactly where a color is supposed to be, and I like rainbows because they're both beautiful and gay (like me). So this arrangement makes me smile. I don't worry about sorting the individual shades within the colors in any specific order. Extra bottles of the same shade go after all of the other colors, so they don't get in the way.
Nail polish doesn't take up much room at all, but sometimes it's really nice to have fewer shades to "have" to choose from, if you want to paint your nails. It's all about balancing the urge to have every color and shade possible, with the urge to get rid of everything. I have to do this with my clothes, too, since I love having a lot of nice clothes to wear, but I also love having a few favorites to wear over and over again.
I got rid of about twenty-five bottles, and I still have about fifty-four bottles (collected over the years, almost all of them cheaper brands, and once I got multiple bottles when my favorite, rare color was being discontinued). I'm still going through them, and maybe I'll get rid of more, but right now I have both a huge rainbow of colors, and I hopefully have only what I'm likely to use.
Here's what I've found to be helpful. It was painful to even think about getting rid of some, at first, because I've gotten rid of nail polish and regretted it, before. So I go slow when going through anything, and make sure that I don't think I'll want it again.
Use these tips, if you like. I hate it when books or people try to tell me what to do, so apply these suggestions as far as you want to apply them:
1) Get rid of the colors that are so thin, that you need four coats and a strong light just to see them. I like thicker nail polishes, and richer colors, so that I don't have to waste a lot of time putting on multiple coats.
2) Don't collect a whole series of colors. Or, unless you like them all, don't keep them all. This is your personal collection, and if some colors are too thin, or you don't like them, they're not worthy of you.
3) Write down a list of colors and brands you get rid of, if it makes you feel better, so you can get them back later if you regret it. This doesn't work for discontinued colors, but you might be able to get them online, or a shade like it, if you really want to get rid of a discontinued color.
4) When you have two or more shades that are just off of each other, put them on side-by-side and compare them, then keep the color you like best. You may discover, also, that one color is very thin, and so you can get rid of that one in favor of the more vivid one. Ironically, Avon's Vivid Violet is not vivid at all. More vivid was its cousin, Avon's Decadence. Avon is very thin sometimes, if it's not a dark color.
5) I got rid of some nail art tools and decals, because I don't care to do nail art. You may like it, but if you don't, then you won't miss the supplies. You could always use sponges and toothpicks, if really you want to do nail art.
6) I also got rid of some colors I just didn't like, at least as much as other colors. They were all fairly common shades, so I could get them back, or something similar, if I wanted. I may not have grey, or gold glitter, but I could easily get it, if I really wanted it.
7) When buying nail polish, apply what I call the Rule of Immediate Consumption: If you don't want to wear it that very night, then don't buy it. You can get multiple shades, even with this rule, if you love them. But if you don't want to wear them right away, then you probably don't love them. I apply this rule to clothes, too, even if I don't get to wear them right away, as long as I would wear them right away.
8) I have a small plastic box with all of my nail polishes, and I like to arrange them in rows (as much as I can with the different-shaped bottles), and in rainbow order (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple), then pink, white, black, gold, and silver. This way, I know exactly where a color is supposed to be, and I like rainbows because they're both beautiful and gay (like me). So this arrangement makes me smile. I don't worry about sorting the individual shades within the colors in any specific order. Extra bottles of the same shade go after all of the other colors, so they don't get in the way.
Nail polish doesn't take up much room at all, but sometimes it's really nice to have fewer shades to "have" to choose from, if you want to paint your nails. It's all about balancing the urge to have every color and shade possible, with the urge to get rid of everything. I have to do this with my clothes, too, since I love having a lot of nice clothes to wear, but I also love having a few favorites to wear over and over again.
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Stuffed With Stuff
There was a time when I had a pretty lucrative (for me) job, where I made more money than I had ever made in my life. And with my penchant for shopping at thrift shops, it went a long way. I was excited and happy at first, finally able to afford nice things, and able to buy them without feeling guilty.
But after a while, my bedroom felt rather cramped (at least for me), and the choice of what to wear became almost overwhelming. I had heard that some people felt bad for the clothes they never wore, but I felt bad about the clothes I never wore. I felt bad because when I saw how much I had accumulated, I felt that I had wasted money. I had just wanted nice things, and when shopping I often felt out of control of my spending.
When I was growing up, I had gotten rid of a lot of things that I later regretted. Some things I was tired of looking at; other things I thought were demonic (or an idol, causing me so much joy that I was sure God was jealous; I am lucky my mom saved some of my favorite childhood toys). I had gotten rid of some stuffed animals in order to be more grown-up. Many of my favorite clothes and toys, too, I had gotten rid of as an effort to please God with my charity, and hadn't really wanted to do it.
I had lost many beloved animals (and even a few humans) over the years, and it was hard to "lose" anything else. Letting something go, sometimes even in a store, felt overwhelming sometimes. So I kept many things that did not make me happy, but that I was afraid to part with.
And now, as I looked around my room, I felt physically full, "stuffed with stuff."
When I was getting ready for school, I chose a scarf. These are more scarves than I will wear in one winter, I thought. I felt ashamed of how many things I had.
I mentioned to my mother how afraid I was of regretting the loss of my things, and she was very sympathetic. "You won't regret it. We'll put your unwanted clothes in boxes and sell them in the classifieds. You can get back some of your money."
That made me feel better, that I could have something from the "bad money" that I felt like I had thrown away. I also believed that any charity would probably welcome money rather than stuff, as they could have their money right away and not when something sold.
I don't shop nearly as much as I used to, and usually it is not my idea. It has taken a lot of work, and learning a few tricks (and how to comfort myself when I had to let something go), but I feel much more in control of my money and my things.
Here is what I learned from that experience:
1) The hardest decisions to make are about the things that you half-like, half-hate, or that you can't make up your mind about.
The things I loved were easy to keep; the things I hated were easy to get rid of; but the in-between things, the ones I couldn't decide on, were the hardest. I sorted my things into three piles: Yes, No, and Maybe. The Maybe items I went back through, judging them individually.
2) Trust yourself to make the right decision.
"Sometimes, I just grow out of things," my mother said. If that was true, then maybe I had grown out of some things too. Maybe I had made wise decisions for the time, but they no longer suited me. I had not wanted to grow out of things; I had wanted to have nice things that I kept for the long term, but maybe I would be happier with a smaller supply and a couple fewer choices.
3) Understand when something you own is a "better version" of something else.
I had two similar pink scarves, but got rid of one, because I understood that I would always pick the other one, if I wanted to wear pink. The one I kept, I liked better. I have also asked myself, in a store, if I own something better at home. If the answer is yes, no matter how good a deal this new thing is, I will always pick the one I already had, and so it would be useless to buy another.
4) Only buy something you would use, eat, or wear right away. I usually only buy things that I can't wait to wear, though that could be more than one shirt, scarf, or what have you. If it's second-rate, then I won't wear it much anyway, and when I do, I won't feel very good in it, because it won't be one of my favorites.
5) Divide your clothes into three categories, depending on how much you like them. Most of the third-rate clothes should probably go (take pictures of the item and label, if you wish, so you can get it back if you really want it and regret getting rid of it later). The second-rate clothes are probably your biggest pile, but those are probably the clothes that you still don't want to part with. The first-rate clothes are favorites that you want to wear over and over again. They're probably your smallest pile. Even though these are your favorites, I would suggest keeping at least some of the second-rate clothing, because you might be like me and want some variety once in a while. In this way, you can put your "extra" clothes away in a box or something, and "shop" in your closet if you get bored with your favorites.
Going through my stuff and getting rid of some things is still one of my favorite things to do, because I enjoy what I have left even more. (Right now I'm going through my blog and publishing the stuff that I always meant to publish, but never got around to!) But I still love having a lot of nice clothes to choose from. You can do both, if you're willing to put in a little bit of effort. :)
But after a while, my bedroom felt rather cramped (at least for me), and the choice of what to wear became almost overwhelming. I had heard that some people felt bad for the clothes they never wore, but I felt bad about the clothes I never wore. I felt bad because when I saw how much I had accumulated, I felt that I had wasted money. I had just wanted nice things, and when shopping I often felt out of control of my spending.
When I was growing up, I had gotten rid of a lot of things that I later regretted. Some things I was tired of looking at; other things I thought were demonic (or an idol, causing me so much joy that I was sure God was jealous; I am lucky my mom saved some of my favorite childhood toys). I had gotten rid of some stuffed animals in order to be more grown-up. Many of my favorite clothes and toys, too, I had gotten rid of as an effort to please God with my charity, and hadn't really wanted to do it.
I had lost many beloved animals (and even a few humans) over the years, and it was hard to "lose" anything else. Letting something go, sometimes even in a store, felt overwhelming sometimes. So I kept many things that did not make me happy, but that I was afraid to part with.
And now, as I looked around my room, I felt physically full, "stuffed with stuff."
When I was getting ready for school, I chose a scarf. These are more scarves than I will wear in one winter, I thought. I felt ashamed of how many things I had.
I mentioned to my mother how afraid I was of regretting the loss of my things, and she was very sympathetic. "You won't regret it. We'll put your unwanted clothes in boxes and sell them in the classifieds. You can get back some of your money."
That made me feel better, that I could have something from the "bad money" that I felt like I had thrown away. I also believed that any charity would probably welcome money rather than stuff, as they could have their money right away and not when something sold.
I don't shop nearly as much as I used to, and usually it is not my idea. It has taken a lot of work, and learning a few tricks (and how to comfort myself when I had to let something go), but I feel much more in control of my money and my things.
Here is what I learned from that experience:
1) The hardest decisions to make are about the things that you half-like, half-hate, or that you can't make up your mind about.
The things I loved were easy to keep; the things I hated were easy to get rid of; but the in-between things, the ones I couldn't decide on, were the hardest. I sorted my things into three piles: Yes, No, and Maybe. The Maybe items I went back through, judging them individually.
2) Trust yourself to make the right decision.
"Sometimes, I just grow out of things," my mother said. If that was true, then maybe I had grown out of some things too. Maybe I had made wise decisions for the time, but they no longer suited me. I had not wanted to grow out of things; I had wanted to have nice things that I kept for the long term, but maybe I would be happier with a smaller supply and a couple fewer choices.
3) Understand when something you own is a "better version" of something else.
I had two similar pink scarves, but got rid of one, because I understood that I would always pick the other one, if I wanted to wear pink. The one I kept, I liked better. I have also asked myself, in a store, if I own something better at home. If the answer is yes, no matter how good a deal this new thing is, I will always pick the one I already had, and so it would be useless to buy another.
4) Only buy something you would use, eat, or wear right away. I usually only buy things that I can't wait to wear, though that could be more than one shirt, scarf, or what have you. If it's second-rate, then I won't wear it much anyway, and when I do, I won't feel very good in it, because it won't be one of my favorites.
5) Divide your clothes into three categories, depending on how much you like them. Most of the third-rate clothes should probably go (take pictures of the item and label, if you wish, so you can get it back if you really want it and regret getting rid of it later). The second-rate clothes are probably your biggest pile, but those are probably the clothes that you still don't want to part with. The first-rate clothes are favorites that you want to wear over and over again. They're probably your smallest pile. Even though these are your favorites, I would suggest keeping at least some of the second-rate clothing, because you might be like me and want some variety once in a while. In this way, you can put your "extra" clothes away in a box or something, and "shop" in your closet if you get bored with your favorites.
Going through my stuff and getting rid of some things is still one of my favorite things to do, because I enjoy what I have left even more. (Right now I'm going through my blog and publishing the stuff that I always meant to publish, but never got around to!) But I still love having a lot of nice clothes to choose from. You can do both, if you're willing to put in a little bit of effort. :)
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Keeping Up With The Christians
My grandfather talks about how "poor" they were when he was a kid, though my mother says that she learned from another relative that they were actually rather rich farmers, before moving from Arkansas to California. Whatever the case, my grandfather worked in the local wood mill for almost fifty years, while supporting a family of six, with only a sixth-grade education. I'm very proud of him for that fact. But even though he had a very good union job, my mother and her siblings always heard him speak of how "poor" they were, and how they "couldn't afford that." (Whatever "that" happened to be.) I talked recently of how almost everyone in my extended family has bought a brand-new, upper-middle-price-range car, and how most of them are on their second or third one.
My Uncle 'Phobe once got a job with the local school district, with good benefits, while complaining to my mom, "I'm just a janitor!" He had looked down on the janitors at his high school, so his self-esteem was affected when he took that relatively lucrative position.
One aunt and uncle went crazy for Thomas Kincaid paintings, when he was a big deal. Those fuckers were expensive! And they had three or four, at least, in ornate light-up frames. (Thomas Kincaid "paintings" were mostly a scam, too, paint thrown over prints.) Their house has always had top-of-the-line everything, and if possible, top-of-the-line Christian everything. It was almost as if they had something to prove, financially and otherwise. I was always fascinated by their house, but so afraid I would break something, when I was child. Their house still looks like an "inspirational" Christian bookstore. "Aren't you glad Christians live here?" my mom snarked to me once, nodding towards the two-foot cross on their stoop.
My mother grew up in the same environment of deprivation that her siblings did, and yet she has totally different financial values than them. I can't help feeling that they're trying to get away from my grandfather's "poorness," like it was a shameful thing.
My grandmother grew up actually poor, as far as I can tell. She had to have a new sports car, about twenty years ago, when her two sisters got new cars, and she had to have a new car about two years ago, when everyone else in the family seemed to get new cars. She has also always loved to shop, a lot of shopping, ever since I could remember. (Though I'm very grateful now that she makes my grandfather get out of the house every day and run errands with her!)
My cousin Blue-Butt (he ate blue birthday cake as a baby and shitted out a Smurf) once dated a young lady whose family was rather wealthy. My grandmother saw the girl's mom's car and exclaimed to me, "Ooh! Her family has money!" in a rather odd voice, a mixture of envy and mocking. She pointed out the expensive tires and rims to me, in particular. I also noticed that, when BB started dating this girl, my aunt, BB's mom, started looking for and bought a nice new car.
Why is being "poor," or even poor, such a shameful thing? Why would people sadly run up tens of thousands of dollars in debt, just to prove that they're not poor, or not poor anymore? What kinds of characteristics do we ascribe to those who have more than us, who are well off--especially so that we try to emulate them and sometimes even fit in with their crowd?
Why must we pretend, to them, that we've always been like them? Are they perceived to be particularly good friends, particularly warm-hearted, especially witty? Why do we want these people, in particular, for our friends? Not that they are bad people, necessarily, but--why these people? Why are they sometimes perceived to be more worthwhile to be around and emulate, just because of their privilege?
I understand the feeling of wanting to be accepted, of wanting to be as privileged as someone else, but I believe we must ask ourselves these questions.
After all, if for some reason we are not accepted by higher socioeconomic classes than our own, it doesn't necessarily reflect badly on our character. How does having more money or privilege mean that one is a better person (one that we wish to become), or mean that they are a great friend, or that they are a great judge of character?
And how does having nice things make one feel financially secure, especially if they have to make themselves financially insecure to do it? How does having nice things mean that you are worthy of nice things? No one can get everything they deserve, after all.
I'm not saying it's bad to have nice things. But I do think it's bad to have nice things, and not examine exactly why we want them. And I especially think it's bad for people to try to get into an in-crowd, without examining why they want to be around those people in the first place.
My in-crowd was the board of directors for the local PFLAG (Parents, Family, and Friends of Lesbians And Gays). I got in, even though I felt like I was bluffing my way through it (I told myself I WAS worthy of it, and there was no reason I couldn't be on that board!). And then, when I went to the first meeting, I sat at the same table as people I admired--the African-American lady who taught the LGBTQ-ally workshop I had attended (bucking the stereotype that black people are homophobic); the only out teacher at a tiny local high school, who had had to divorce his wife and start all over again at midlife, to be honest with himself; a man who had helped to start the first Queer student group at his southern college, way back in the sixties, and who had had rocks thrown at him and his friends for it; the ultra-modest, feminist, outspoken Christian who was eager to help me start my atheist group at my community college; among others. And we were all planning how we were going to change the world! I loved it! It was amazing!
I can't imagine ever having that totally amazing experience, one of the best in my life, if I had tried to make friends with them, or be like them, because of their cars, toys, clothes, houses, or jobs. Or even because they went to my church. And I didn't have to pretend, with them, either, because most of them had a closet in their past, anyway, and they didn't care where I came from.
That's how it should be. And that's how it will never be, if we admire people because we envy their possessions.
My Uncle 'Phobe once got a job with the local school district, with good benefits, while complaining to my mom, "I'm just a janitor!" He had looked down on the janitors at his high school, so his self-esteem was affected when he took that relatively lucrative position.
One aunt and uncle went crazy for Thomas Kincaid paintings, when he was a big deal. Those fuckers were expensive! And they had three or four, at least, in ornate light-up frames. (Thomas Kincaid "paintings" were mostly a scam, too, paint thrown over prints.) Their house has always had top-of-the-line everything, and if possible, top-of-the-line Christian everything. It was almost as if they had something to prove, financially and otherwise. I was always fascinated by their house, but so afraid I would break something, when I was child. Their house still looks like an "inspirational" Christian bookstore. "Aren't you glad Christians live here?" my mom snarked to me once, nodding towards the two-foot cross on their stoop.
My mother grew up in the same environment of deprivation that her siblings did, and yet she has totally different financial values than them. I can't help feeling that they're trying to get away from my grandfather's "poorness," like it was a shameful thing.
My grandmother grew up actually poor, as far as I can tell. She had to have a new sports car, about twenty years ago, when her two sisters got new cars, and she had to have a new car about two years ago, when everyone else in the family seemed to get new cars. She has also always loved to shop, a lot of shopping, ever since I could remember. (Though I'm very grateful now that she makes my grandfather get out of the house every day and run errands with her!)
My cousin Blue-Butt (he ate blue birthday cake as a baby and shitted out a Smurf) once dated a young lady whose family was rather wealthy. My grandmother saw the girl's mom's car and exclaimed to me, "Ooh! Her family has money!" in a rather odd voice, a mixture of envy and mocking. She pointed out the expensive tires and rims to me, in particular. I also noticed that, when BB started dating this girl, my aunt, BB's mom, started looking for and bought a nice new car.
Why is being "poor," or even poor, such a shameful thing? Why would people sadly run up tens of thousands of dollars in debt, just to prove that they're not poor, or not poor anymore? What kinds of characteristics do we ascribe to those who have more than us, who are well off--especially so that we try to emulate them and sometimes even fit in with their crowd?
Why must we pretend, to them, that we've always been like them? Are they perceived to be particularly good friends, particularly warm-hearted, especially witty? Why do we want these people, in particular, for our friends? Not that they are bad people, necessarily, but--why these people? Why are they sometimes perceived to be more worthwhile to be around and emulate, just because of their privilege?
I understand the feeling of wanting to be accepted, of wanting to be as privileged as someone else, but I believe we must ask ourselves these questions.
After all, if for some reason we are not accepted by higher socioeconomic classes than our own, it doesn't necessarily reflect badly on our character. How does having more money or privilege mean that one is a better person (one that we wish to become), or mean that they are a great friend, or that they are a great judge of character?
And how does having nice things make one feel financially secure, especially if they have to make themselves financially insecure to do it? How does having nice things mean that you are worthy of nice things? No one can get everything they deserve, after all.
I'm not saying it's bad to have nice things. But I do think it's bad to have nice things, and not examine exactly why we want them. And I especially think it's bad for people to try to get into an in-crowd, without examining why they want to be around those people in the first place.
My in-crowd was the board of directors for the local PFLAG (Parents, Family, and Friends of Lesbians And Gays). I got in, even though I felt like I was bluffing my way through it (I told myself I WAS worthy of it, and there was no reason I couldn't be on that board!). And then, when I went to the first meeting, I sat at the same table as people I admired--the African-American lady who taught the LGBTQ-ally workshop I had attended (bucking the stereotype that black people are homophobic); the only out teacher at a tiny local high school, who had had to divorce his wife and start all over again at midlife, to be honest with himself; a man who had helped to start the first Queer student group at his southern college, way back in the sixties, and who had had rocks thrown at him and his friends for it; the ultra-modest, feminist, outspoken Christian who was eager to help me start my atheist group at my community college; among others. And we were all planning how we were going to change the world! I loved it! It was amazing!
I can't imagine ever having that totally amazing experience, one of the best in my life, if I had tried to make friends with them, or be like them, because of their cars, toys, clothes, houses, or jobs. Or even because they went to my church. And I didn't have to pretend, with them, either, because most of them had a closet in their past, anyway, and they didn't care where I came from.
That's how it should be. And that's how it will never be, if we admire people because we envy their possessions.
Monday, February 22, 2016
Minimalism And Buying: The Rule of Immediate Consumption
Right after the shooting at my school, Umpqua Community College, I coped with the shock of it by getting rid of an enormous amount of things, and adopting two new kittens. I would highly recommend The Kitten Method to anyone going through grief or shock. I still love my babies, Little Ernesto and Lulu Applesnoo.
I got rid of a lot of things, over the years, but I also learned how to know what I would love, and what I would get rid of right after buying it. One of the most useful tools I thought of is something I call the Rule of Immediate Consumption.
I ask myself if I would wear, eat, or use the item right this minute, if I could. If I didn't like the shade of nail polish enough to wear it that night, I probably wouldn't wear it eventually. If I didn't like that shirt enough to wear it the next time I went out, it was not going to be one of my favorites.
This made me feel good, to have a clear way to know what I really like, and what I only half-like. I saved a lot of money, too, and don't have too many half-liked clothes. It's always the stuff you half-like that causes the most problems, that you can't decide about.
I also try to remember my favorite shirt or coat, etc, and think whether I like the item as much as my current favorite. If I don't like it as much, then I won't choose to wear it, anyway, or I'll wear it but wish I was wearing something else.
I don't buy very many clothes anymore, and I don't feel deprived, either.
I got rid of a lot of things, over the years, but I also learned how to know what I would love, and what I would get rid of right after buying it. One of the most useful tools I thought of is something I call the Rule of Immediate Consumption.
I ask myself if I would wear, eat, or use the item right this minute, if I could. If I didn't like the shade of nail polish enough to wear it that night, I probably wouldn't wear it eventually. If I didn't like that shirt enough to wear it the next time I went out, it was not going to be one of my favorites.
This made me feel good, to have a clear way to know what I really like, and what I only half-like. I saved a lot of money, too, and don't have too many half-liked clothes. It's always the stuff you half-like that causes the most problems, that you can't decide about.
I also try to remember my favorite shirt or coat, etc, and think whether I like the item as much as my current favorite. If I don't like it as much, then I won't choose to wear it, anyway, or I'll wear it but wish I was wearing something else.
I don't buy very many clothes anymore, and I don't feel deprived, either.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Cars Are For Transportation, NOT Decoration!
I love my family, but they will tell you themselves that they are "really good Christians."
I'm not sure exactly how to explain why I think this is so problematic, even among people who aren't hypocrites or judgmental at all (and hypocrites never really KNOW that they're hypocrites, do they?). But I think it comes down to this: If it's just that "easy" to be a good person, then where's the humility, the awareness that you're not perfect? Not just lip service to the idea that you're not perfect, but actually seeing and acknowledging your flaws and mistakes, and trying to do better? If you think you're already on top of the mountain, then you're going to get lazy.
I'm not trying to guilt anyone, and I hate when pastors and others try to do that, but I wanted to point out that just because you go through the bible studies and programs at your church, or even just because you read the bible, doesn't mean that you got your life together. Or that you're making the right decisions for you--or your money, for that matter.
I once observed that it seems to me that, the more conservative the church, the more expensive the cars in the parking lot become!
Except for my mom, who shares my automotive values, one couple who share a brand-new car, and my younger cousins, who are just starting out in life and can only afford used cars (though I have a feeling that my cousin Red might be thrifty like me), every single person in my mother's family, other than me, has a car or truck that they bought new. Every. Single. Person. Most are on their second or third new vehicle, or looking for the next one.
That is insanity!
A car has one, and only one, purpose: To get you, your passengers, and your stuff from here to there, from there to here, safely and reliably. There is no way that a car can provide $12,000 or more worth of happiness; there's no way that that money could not be spent in more meaningful and fun ways!
(I'm not even talking about their new vehicle purchases, and I'm using a purposefully "low" figure; they tend to buy the upper-middle level of new car, in terms of price and "status." I would estimate about $35,000 or more is not uncommon, just judging from what these cars go for typically.)
A car is a tool, nothing more. You can feel good for MUCH less than $35,000 or more.
I'm not sure exactly how to explain why I think this is so problematic, even among people who aren't hypocrites or judgmental at all (and hypocrites never really KNOW that they're hypocrites, do they?). But I think it comes down to this: If it's just that "easy" to be a good person, then where's the humility, the awareness that you're not perfect? Not just lip service to the idea that you're not perfect, but actually seeing and acknowledging your flaws and mistakes, and trying to do better? If you think you're already on top of the mountain, then you're going to get lazy.
I'm not trying to guilt anyone, and I hate when pastors and others try to do that, but I wanted to point out that just because you go through the bible studies and programs at your church, or even just because you read the bible, doesn't mean that you got your life together. Or that you're making the right decisions for you--or your money, for that matter.
I once observed that it seems to me that, the more conservative the church, the more expensive the cars in the parking lot become!
Except for my mom, who shares my automotive values, one couple who share a brand-new car, and my younger cousins, who are just starting out in life and can only afford used cars (though I have a feeling that my cousin Red might be thrifty like me), every single person in my mother's family, other than me, has a car or truck that they bought new. Every. Single. Person. Most are on their second or third new vehicle, or looking for the next one.
That is insanity!
A car has one, and only one, purpose: To get you, your passengers, and your stuff from here to there, from there to here, safely and reliably. There is no way that a car can provide $12,000 or more worth of happiness; there's no way that that money could not be spent in more meaningful and fun ways!
(I'm not even talking about their new vehicle purchases, and I'm using a purposefully "low" figure; they tend to buy the upper-middle level of new car, in terms of price and "status." I would estimate about $35,000 or more is not uncommon, just judging from what these cars go for typically.)
A car is a tool, nothing more. You can feel good for MUCH less than $35,000 or more.
This is why I never want to go to an affluent church, if I were to attend church, because my old car sitting next to their new cars would just drive home the huge differences in personal values and lifestyle.
(My car is a hand-me-down from my mom, when she got her twenty-year-old van. She was so thrilled about that van, and still is, and she loved that car, too, for many years. It has history, that way, which is why I love it so much!)
(My car is a hand-me-down from my mom, when she got her twenty-year-old van. She was so thrilled about that van, and still is, and she loved that car, too, for many years. It has history, that way, which is why I love it so much!)
I believe that the reason my family is so obsessed with new, shiny cars, is because of the church most of them attend. It is rather affluent, and has many of the important people in the community (or rather, people who think they're important in the community). My family fellowships "up," as far as wealth and so-called status, not across or even down. I don't fellowship with anyone, myself, but I certainly would never fellowship "up." (Though if the affirming churches recommended by my gay Christian friends had evening services, I might try them out, if they weren't too religious. Or too affluent--I don't approve of that lifestyle!)
When one person in the family got a new car, everyone else had to catch up, and did so within a year or two. They left my mother and me in the dust.
But our extended family is not that affluent. We can't afford to pay cash for these things, and if we did, it would be our life savings, or at least a very good part of it.
It makes me sick, how much money Americans waste. I am pretty silent and polite when being shown a relative's new car, or am told that they are looking for one, because I actually lose respect for people who have newer cars; I don't gain it. I especially lose respect for people who are wealthy enough to actually afford them; even if it's "small," compared to what you have, it's still a HUGE waste of money and resources! How many people could have been helped, with that money? How much garbage could be cleaned up from the oceans, with that money?
Luxury car companies should not even exist. I am not for only one option of car (like a communist), or saying that no new cars should be made, but I believe a price cap on cars would certainly help make them more practical, even if it's $100,000. Let the rich make their own customized improvements after purchasing, if they must be "better" than others, somehow.
At the very least, if one wants to have a "luxury" car, a vintage car would be much easier to maintain and replace parts in, and would keep its value, maybe even become more valuable over time. It might even be much cheaper than a new or late-model car. And you wouldn't be manipulated by the car companies and the culture to believe that a want is actually a need. Or manipulated by your church to think that something inducing that much debt is a "blessing." (My mom recalls that even at her old church--a relatively non-affluent one--when my parents were borrowing my paternal grandmother's car, which was relatively new at the time, everyone gathered around them in the parking lot and said, "Congratulations!" as if they had just a baby other than me!)
I believe frugality is a virtue, an all-too-rare virtue, nowadays. And I also believe that if you need a brand-new upper-middle level car to feel good, then you actually need to get therapy and self-help books, and pocket the difference. You would actually be able to afford a much more luxurious lifestyle, that way, or at least be free of a whole lot of debt.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
How To Stay Afloat, Part 3 of 3
This is Part Three of a series of articles about how not to "drown" financially and emotionally. I believe that, since an atheist cannot retreat into the dubious solution of buying lottery tickets and praying, that this topic is very relevant and hopefully some people will be helped by what I've learned.
I have divided this article into three parts to keep it easy to read. Please see the previous two posts for additional tips.
7. Create more than you consume. There was a time that I thought almost all of my pleasure would come from acquiring money and things, and I was actually pretty miserable. The key is to find balance, what is right for you. It was only when my disposable income was severely reduced that I remembered I had loved to write when I couldn't buy as much. Writing, drawing, making crafts (from the supplies you already have), etc., are all cheap or free (or at least, can be), and give one a sense of fulfillment that consumption never can. It is even more fulfilling if others can also enjoy or admire your work.
Focus not on what you can get--focus on what you can create: stories, articles, crafts, or meeting goals like sales calls made or classified ads listed.
(I would personally recommend starting some kind of blog, even if it's not on the topic of religion or atheism, so that others can hopefully be helped by your experience. There is probably more to write about than you think. It will also give you more confidence and, interestingly enough, make you feel sexier. Better yet, start a blog and send me a link.)
8. "Shop" for free things. That's not to say that there is no place for entertainment in your life, or that such entertainment has to be expensive. My family still technically does not have a television subscription; we entertain ourselves with Youtube and watching episodes of our favorite shows online. Many libraries also lend ebooks or audiobooks over the computer to members. This is technically not shopping, and that's kind of the point.
Here is a link to a website where you can (legally) download free ebooks, as no one owns a copyright to any of them. Most of them are about a century or more old, but there are thousands, many of them very entertaining, and all of them are free and legal:
http://library2go.lib.overdrive.com/F3E36843-DEFB-4827-B2A8-FFED847A342E/10/50/en/ZRPublicDomainCollection.htm
(They even have a few books on religion and atheism. Try typing the words "atheist" and "atheism" into the search box right above the book titles. The works of Horatio Alger, though they are children's books, were also especially inspiring to me over the years. Yes, they are available at this site and can be easily searched for.)
But the most important thing of all to remember is...
9. Focus on what you can do, not what you can't. Remember what I said in Part One about the sense of helplessness being the real enemy. Make a list of possible sources of income or ways to save money, no matter how far-fetched they are. Even if they "aren't worth it," include them in the list. Some things require a great deal of effort at the beginning, then pay off later. Others are "too small" but slowly add up. Still others may not seem worth it at the time, but pay off later. Even ridiculous ideas may have a grain of truth to them.
The key is to increase your odds of success; even if it never pays off (which is actually pretty unlikely, that it will not pay off at all), you have gained valuable experience and the knowledge that you have tried your best and can be proud of that.
(Obviously, though, only take risks in which you can afford to lose. Don't spend all your grocery money on lottery tickets, for example.)
Difficult times in my life have taught me many things, but the main lesson I came away with is that God or someone else is not going to help me; I have to help myself. Action, any kind of action, is what is going to save you from depression and despair. Remember that you are much stronger and more resourceful than you think you are.
What do you think of this? Leave a comment below, or send me an email at: atheistjourneysblog@gmail.com
Follow or tweet me here: https://twitter.com/atheistjourneys
I have divided this article into three parts to keep it easy to read. Please see the previous two posts for additional tips.
7. Create more than you consume. There was a time that I thought almost all of my pleasure would come from acquiring money and things, and I was actually pretty miserable. The key is to find balance, what is right for you. It was only when my disposable income was severely reduced that I remembered I had loved to write when I couldn't buy as much. Writing, drawing, making crafts (from the supplies you already have), etc., are all cheap or free (or at least, can be), and give one a sense of fulfillment that consumption never can. It is even more fulfilling if others can also enjoy or admire your work.
Focus not on what you can get--focus on what you can create: stories, articles, crafts, or meeting goals like sales calls made or classified ads listed.
(I would personally recommend starting some kind of blog, even if it's not on the topic of religion or atheism, so that others can hopefully be helped by your experience. There is probably more to write about than you think. It will also give you more confidence and, interestingly enough, make you feel sexier. Better yet, start a blog and send me a link.)
8. "Shop" for free things. That's not to say that there is no place for entertainment in your life, or that such entertainment has to be expensive. My family still technically does not have a television subscription; we entertain ourselves with Youtube and watching episodes of our favorite shows online. Many libraries also lend ebooks or audiobooks over the computer to members. This is technically not shopping, and that's kind of the point.
Here is a link to a website where you can (legally) download free ebooks, as no one owns a copyright to any of them. Most of them are about a century or more old, but there are thousands, many of them very entertaining, and all of them are free and legal:
http://library2go.lib.overdrive.com/F3E36843-DEFB-4827-B2A8-FFED847A342E/10/50/en/ZRPublicDomainCollection.htm
(They even have a few books on religion and atheism. Try typing the words "atheist" and "atheism" into the search box right above the book titles. The works of Horatio Alger, though they are children's books, were also especially inspiring to me over the years. Yes, they are available at this site and can be easily searched for.)
But the most important thing of all to remember is...
9. Focus on what you can do, not what you can't. Remember what I said in Part One about the sense of helplessness being the real enemy. Make a list of possible sources of income or ways to save money, no matter how far-fetched they are. Even if they "aren't worth it," include them in the list. Some things require a great deal of effort at the beginning, then pay off later. Others are "too small" but slowly add up. Still others may not seem worth it at the time, but pay off later. Even ridiculous ideas may have a grain of truth to them.
The key is to increase your odds of success; even if it never pays off (which is actually pretty unlikely, that it will not pay off at all), you have gained valuable experience and the knowledge that you have tried your best and can be proud of that.
(Obviously, though, only take risks in which you can afford to lose. Don't spend all your grocery money on lottery tickets, for example.)
Difficult times in my life have taught me many things, but the main lesson I came away with is that God or someone else is not going to help me; I have to help myself. Action, any kind of action, is what is going to save you from depression and despair. Remember that you are much stronger and more resourceful than you think you are.
What do you think of this? Leave a comment below, or send me an email at: atheistjourneysblog@gmail.com
Follow or tweet me here: https://twitter.com/atheistjourneys
How To Stay Afloat, Part 2 of 3
There was a time when my family was near "drowning" financially, and this is what I have learned from that time and since. Such circumstances can easily shatter one's faith, and one may sink into despair if that faith is not replaced by action. Here is what to do if prayer doesn't work.
Because I like to keep my articles small and easy to read, this is part two of a series of three articles, with three suggestions each. Please see my previous article, How To Stay Afloat, Part 1 of 3.
4. Buy one "big" thing instead of five little things. In other words, don't try to substitute some cheap imitation for what you really want; it will end up making you miserable and costing you more money in the long run. If you want something nice to put in your home, don't console yourself at the dollar store. Go without shopping for a while, and put the savings towards something that will make you really happy. If you don't know what that something is, congratulations! That's actually a good thing. That means that you will have more time to save for what you really want, and you will know it when the time comes...if you can learn to say no to the less important items.
5. Make a list of everything you could possibly want, and number each item according to importance. You may be able to afford it, after all. This will protect you from buying things that are "just there" at the moment. If you combine this step with listing and looking over your expenses, you may find that the little things can be given up in order to afford what really makes you happy.
And if you can afford it at the moment--without causing yourself or your family hardship--please don't deny yourself. You will be miserable and probably surrounded with "little" things you only half like.
Note also that your true wants may surprise you. I have found that one of the greatest joys that money can buy is the sense of taking good care of my animals. If I spend less on my own pleasures, I can afford more worm medicine, flea treatments, tuna, saving for vet appointments, etc. This makes me feel much better than one more thing or piece of clothing ever would. If I had children, I imagine I would feel the same way towards them. If I had no children or pets, I might try buying food or supplies for an animal or homeless shelter.
6. Apply the rule of "immediate consumption only." This is what finally saved me from the cycle of buying things because I was afraid I could not later. If I couldn't see myself using, enjoying or wearing it right away, I passed it up. This will also protect you from "bargains" you don't need.
Please see the previous post, Part One, if you haven't already, and stay tuned for Part Three.
What do you think of this? Leave a comment below, or send me an email at: atheistjourneysblog@gmail.com
Follow or tweet me here: https://twitter.com/atheistjourneys
Because I like to keep my articles small and easy to read, this is part two of a series of three articles, with three suggestions each. Please see my previous article, How To Stay Afloat, Part 1 of 3.
4. Buy one "big" thing instead of five little things. In other words, don't try to substitute some cheap imitation for what you really want; it will end up making you miserable and costing you more money in the long run. If you want something nice to put in your home, don't console yourself at the dollar store. Go without shopping for a while, and put the savings towards something that will make you really happy. If you don't know what that something is, congratulations! That's actually a good thing. That means that you will have more time to save for what you really want, and you will know it when the time comes...if you can learn to say no to the less important items.
5. Make a list of everything you could possibly want, and number each item according to importance. You may be able to afford it, after all. This will protect you from buying things that are "just there" at the moment. If you combine this step with listing and looking over your expenses, you may find that the little things can be given up in order to afford what really makes you happy.
And if you can afford it at the moment--without causing yourself or your family hardship--please don't deny yourself. You will be miserable and probably surrounded with "little" things you only half like.
Note also that your true wants may surprise you. I have found that one of the greatest joys that money can buy is the sense of taking good care of my animals. If I spend less on my own pleasures, I can afford more worm medicine, flea treatments, tuna, saving for vet appointments, etc. This makes me feel much better than one more thing or piece of clothing ever would. If I had children, I imagine I would feel the same way towards them. If I had no children or pets, I might try buying food or supplies for an animal or homeless shelter.
6. Apply the rule of "immediate consumption only." This is what finally saved me from the cycle of buying things because I was afraid I could not later. If I couldn't see myself using, enjoying or wearing it right away, I passed it up. This will also protect you from "bargains" you don't need.
Please see the previous post, Part One, if you haven't already, and stay tuned for Part Three.
What do you think of this? Leave a comment below, or send me an email at: atheistjourneysblog@gmail.com
Follow or tweet me here: https://twitter.com/atheistjourneys
How To Stay Afloat, Part 1 of 3
At first glance it might seem that I'm straying a bit off topic, but I don't believe that to be the case at all. My atheism affects and is affected by every other part of my life, and I know that I can't be the only one for whom this is true. I share what I have learned because the world needs happy, healthy atheists.
There was a time years ago that my family was in a bit of financial trouble. During this time, I overheard my mother say to my father, "We are drowning." I will never forget the helplessness I felt at that time, and that was the worst thing about it. The sense of helplessness, or desperation, I have since learned is the real enemy at times like this. That is why these principles that I have learned have been so important to getting out of that desperate place, both financially and emotionally. Here is how to get yourself unstuck, and retain some of your happiness and sanity at the same time, whether you are going through hard times or not:
(Because I like to keep my articles small and easy to read, I have divided this subject into three parts, with three steps each.)
1. Pay yourself first, even if it's only a tiny amount. Even having an extra two dollars in the bank will make you feel much better, trust me. You can save a set percentage of each paycheck, garage sale, etc, or vary the amounts as you can afford it. Even a sliver of the total will make you feel better and get you in the habit. Remember that you can always take it back out if there is an emergency.
2. Adopt the attitude that "nothing is sacred." This one I got from my mother. This is the attitude that she adopted long ago, and it is the first thing she tells others to do if they ask for financial advice. What it means is, everything is available to be sacrificed to keep one's home and family intact. At one point we had no living room furniture because she had sold it to pay our bills. Sentimental value didn't matter either; the people--and pets--in our family were more important than things. I know this is also something we would have to fall back upon, if it ever came to that.
(This would also apply to receiving government or other assistance, filing for bankruptcy, etc, if one must.)
3. Don't "stock up" on pleasure. So many things that I have bought, I realize now, were bought in case I couldn't afford them later. Most of these things I don't even use, even years later. I now know that it is better to set aside a certain amount of money for things that are simply wants.
(I have also found that, when it comes to food and candy, there will come a point when you will get tired of it eventually, at least for a while. No matter how delicious it tastes now, this rule still applies. I have five boxes of peppermint taffy in my freezer, bought cheap right after Christmas last year, to prove it. I still like peppermint taffy...sometimes.)
Stay tuned for parts two and three.
What do you think of this? Leave a comment below, or send me an email at: atheistjourneysblog@gmail.com
Follow or tweet me here: https://twitter.com/atheistjourneys
There was a time years ago that my family was in a bit of financial trouble. During this time, I overheard my mother say to my father, "We are drowning." I will never forget the helplessness I felt at that time, and that was the worst thing about it. The sense of helplessness, or desperation, I have since learned is the real enemy at times like this. That is why these principles that I have learned have been so important to getting out of that desperate place, both financially and emotionally. Here is how to get yourself unstuck, and retain some of your happiness and sanity at the same time, whether you are going through hard times or not:
(Because I like to keep my articles small and easy to read, I have divided this subject into three parts, with three steps each.)
1. Pay yourself first, even if it's only a tiny amount. Even having an extra two dollars in the bank will make you feel much better, trust me. You can save a set percentage of each paycheck, garage sale, etc, or vary the amounts as you can afford it. Even a sliver of the total will make you feel better and get you in the habit. Remember that you can always take it back out if there is an emergency.
2. Adopt the attitude that "nothing is sacred." This one I got from my mother. This is the attitude that she adopted long ago, and it is the first thing she tells others to do if they ask for financial advice. What it means is, everything is available to be sacrificed to keep one's home and family intact. At one point we had no living room furniture because she had sold it to pay our bills. Sentimental value didn't matter either; the people--and pets--in our family were more important than things. I know this is also something we would have to fall back upon, if it ever came to that.
(This would also apply to receiving government or other assistance, filing for bankruptcy, etc, if one must.)
3. Don't "stock up" on pleasure. So many things that I have bought, I realize now, were bought in case I couldn't afford them later. Most of these things I don't even use, even years later. I now know that it is better to set aside a certain amount of money for things that are simply wants.
(I have also found that, when it comes to food and candy, there will come a point when you will get tired of it eventually, at least for a while. No matter how delicious it tastes now, this rule still applies. I have five boxes of peppermint taffy in my freezer, bought cheap right after Christmas last year, to prove it. I still like peppermint taffy...sometimes.)
Stay tuned for parts two and three.
What do you think of this? Leave a comment below, or send me an email at: atheistjourneysblog@gmail.com
Follow or tweet me here: https://twitter.com/atheistjourneys
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Lord Won't You Buy Me A Mecedes-Benz
Some Christians are impressed when clergy or other Christians drive expensive cars, as they are apparently blessed by God. Others don't like it, saying that it's a bad example for someone serving God. As an atheist I don't believe anyone is really serving God, though sometimes people do serve others with their actions.
Some people don't care what others are driving, others are envious of their apparent wealth, and some say that people who drive fancy cars are all jerks (I knew one guy who said that, until he got a shiny new car!).
While attending a special church function last year (a family member was helping and I felt I had to come), I found myself surveying a parking lot full of shiny, attractive cars, most of them used but only a few years old, and in the higher middle range price-wise; and my mother's one white Honda that's about twenty years old. The more expensive the model, it seemed, the more conservative the owner's beliefs. I found it strange that the car from the early nineties with peeling paint brought an atheist and a Christian with more liberal beliefs; some people say that the things of the world pull one away from God.
When I was a Christian, I was influenced a lot by the writings of K.P. Yohannan, founder of the missionary organization Gospel For Asia. I was amazed at the revelation of just how rich modern westerners really were. I read about his first time in America, the immense culture shock, his surprise at everyday conveniences like running water and the modern highway system. Then I looked around at all of the "stuff" I had and I felt guilty and disgusted.
A few years back, I had a job where I made more spending money than I had ever made before. Though most would not consider what I made very much, my expenses were low and it was quite a bit by my standards. But after a while, I was unhappy. Since making and spending money was my main preoccupation, I felt bored, depressed, like I had no dimension to my life. Though the money itself didn't cause it, I was stuck in a rut.
Then about a year ago I lost that job and had to take another with much lower pay. It was perhaps what I needed. I began to write again. I started planning my future career. I focused on enjoying the things I had, and saying no to some of my shopping impulses. Now I feel like my old self again, before the money took over my life, only it seems like there's more to me now. I have learned a valuable lesson and am more of myself now.
Because I was stuck in my habits, the best thing for me was losing income. I couldn't afford to buy worthless things, only things that truly made me happy.
I learned more about myself, and I think also about human nature.
And as I surveyed the expensive late-model cars parked all around me, I wondered if such status symbols made their owners truly happy. I sincerely hoped so. But I couldn't bring myself to believe that they did.
What do you think of this? Leave a comment below, or send me an email at: atheistjourneysblog@gmail.com
Follow or tweet me here: https://twitter.com/atheistjourneys
Some people don't care what others are driving, others are envious of their apparent wealth, and some say that people who drive fancy cars are all jerks (I knew one guy who said that, until he got a shiny new car!).
While attending a special church function last year (a family member was helping and I felt I had to come), I found myself surveying a parking lot full of shiny, attractive cars, most of them used but only a few years old, and in the higher middle range price-wise; and my mother's one white Honda that's about twenty years old. The more expensive the model, it seemed, the more conservative the owner's beliefs. I found it strange that the car from the early nineties with peeling paint brought an atheist and a Christian with more liberal beliefs; some people say that the things of the world pull one away from God.
When I was a Christian, I was influenced a lot by the writings of K.P. Yohannan, founder of the missionary organization Gospel For Asia. I was amazed at the revelation of just how rich modern westerners really were. I read about his first time in America, the immense culture shock, his surprise at everyday conveniences like running water and the modern highway system. Then I looked around at all of the "stuff" I had and I felt guilty and disgusted.
A few years back, I had a job where I made more spending money than I had ever made before. Though most would not consider what I made very much, my expenses were low and it was quite a bit by my standards. But after a while, I was unhappy. Since making and spending money was my main preoccupation, I felt bored, depressed, like I had no dimension to my life. Though the money itself didn't cause it, I was stuck in a rut.
Then about a year ago I lost that job and had to take another with much lower pay. It was perhaps what I needed. I began to write again. I started planning my future career. I focused on enjoying the things I had, and saying no to some of my shopping impulses. Now I feel like my old self again, before the money took over my life, only it seems like there's more to me now. I have learned a valuable lesson and am more of myself now.
Because I was stuck in my habits, the best thing for me was losing income. I couldn't afford to buy worthless things, only things that truly made me happy.
I learned more about myself, and I think also about human nature.
And as I surveyed the expensive late-model cars parked all around me, I wondered if such status symbols made their owners truly happy. I sincerely hoped so. But I couldn't bring myself to believe that they did.
What do you think of this? Leave a comment below, or send me an email at: atheistjourneysblog@gmail.com
Follow or tweet me here: https://twitter.com/atheistjourneys
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