Is Materialism Instinctive?

"Me Grog. Me big caveman - need storage cave for all my extra stuff."

Is a focus on materialism an instinctive behaviour? Is it human nature? Are we predisposed to want to accumulate things? 

Materialism researchers James Burroughs and Aric Rindfleisch think they have it figured out. I have my doubts.

"Telling people to be less materialistic", they say, "is like telling people that they shouldn’t enjoy sex or eat fatty foods. People can learn to control their impulses, but this does not remove the underlying desires."

Sex and eating fatty foods are survival strategies for humans since early times. But until recently, accumulating things as a human would be a very bad idea running counter to effective survival strategies. 

We are the most adaptable and mobile species on Earth. In order to do this, we have, for hundreds of thousands of years of evolution, had to travel light. As nomadic people, extra accumulation of stuff would not be an evolutionary advantage.

If the researchers are right, where is the evidence of acquisitiveness in the archaeological record? Did cave dwelling humans have off-site storage caves to store all their extra pointy sticks, and rocks and stuff? 

If so, where are they? Where are Grog's Super Self-Storage Caves?

People don't really want 10 tons of crap. Or the storage caves or lockers to put it all in. They want to be loved, to be content, to be part of a vibrant community of supportive compassionate citizens. 

Those are the real underlying desires, and we have been told that the accumulation of stuff will bring us all of that through the completely artificial construct of consumerism.

Survival is instinctive. Materialism is a learned behaviour, and one that now runs contrary to our survival. Even a cave dweller could see that.

If the love of things is learned, it can be unlearned. That is what this blog is all about - unlearning the destructive consumeristic behaviours we have been inculcated with by a sick system that does not care one whit about our survival. Or the survival of the planet.

Neither A Hoarder Nor Collector Be

After recently writing the shortest post I have ever written (a single word), I have been thinking about using words to share my thoughts. It is similar to the thinking I do about the place of stuff in the story that is life.

I don't want to be a word hoarder, or collector. To adapt a well known saying, "I would have written a short post, but I didn't have time. So I wrote a long one." But longer, or more, is usually not meaning better.

Woody Allen's best advice for how to improve a piece of writing is "make it shorter". Usually using fewer words is not only more efficient, but more effective as well. Often writers find it difficult to make the cuts required for brevity. It's hard to "kill your babies" so to speak.

Living is the same. Consuming and owning more than you need, whether by hoarding or collecting, takes one away from the optimal efficient and effective life. Like writing with many unnecessary, not required, superfluous, overabundant, and extra words, living with extra stuff is a dreaded anchor that threatens to pull everything down.

The idea is to live, or write, purposefully, judiciously and always with a nod to channeling your creativity in the most economical way possible.

In the end, the question to ask about words on the page, or stuff in the closet, would be:

"Is it doing any work?"

If not, cut it out. Make it gone. Get rid of it. Punt it. Erase.

Crushed By Stuff

We all have piles of stuff that tend to grow and threaten to crush us.
Could you fit your possession pile into one photograph?

Since 2008, the second most common keyword that leads infonauts to NBA's corner of the Internet universe is 'hoarders'. Uh-huh - hoarders. That seems strange for a simple living, get-rid-of-your-stuff blog. But not so strange.

Like most of us, I am fascinated with the hoarding phenomena, and have done the odd post on this topic. TV shows like Hoarders and Consumed are testaments to our curiosity. 

Mostly I am interested in the 5% of Americans that exhibit hoarding behaviour because they are the canaries in our consumer coal mine. The poison gas that is making them sick is the system that encourages, supports, and rewards unchecked consumption. 

We are being subjected to the same poison gas. Your living space may be neat and tidy, but what does the garage look like? Basement? Storage locker? Are you exhibiting the symptoms of hoarding light?

How To Tell If You Have Hoarding Light 

Do you:

• have difficulty throwing things away, often for sentimental reasons? 
• have a junk drawer, closet, garage, basement, or off-site storage locker overflowing with possessions?
• buy or acquire things that you do not need? 
• feel like you can not live without your stuff?
• feel happiness during shopping binges?
• have stuff that has sat, unseen, in boxes for years?

If you answered yes to one or more of these questions, you may be exhibiting the symptoms of hoarding light, a commonly ignored condition. You are not alone - nearly all your friends, relatives, and neighbours have it too.

In the more serious hoarding category, is a sad situation that made the news in my area today. A 70 year old man had to be rescued from his house after being caught under a stuffalanche. 

The man had been pinned by hoarded materials, and the fire department had to hack down his front door, cut a path through possessions piled to the ceiling, then locate and free him. 

He is thought to have been lying under the piles for at least 3 days, and if not for a 911 call by a concerned neighbour, would probably have died. 

We are all breathing the poison gas of consumer culture, and are in danger of being crushed by our stuff, literally and figuratively. First the canaries get it, then we do.

But not to worry - help is on the way.

I am the emergency responder that has come to save you from being buried, and I am knocking on your front door. Together we will escape the debris and poison gas being piped into our lives by those who wish to profit from our illness.

Hopefully I will be strong enough to drag you away and out into the fresh air of the simple life. 

And what of the #1 keyword search that connects the curious to the Not Buying Anything blog? Well, that would be 'peace'. 

Dear readers, don't be hoarders, seriously or lightly - get rid of all that stuff (or at least a lot of it) and peace will follow.

Not Buying A 2013 Calendar

Captain Kirk says, "Beam up those 2002 calendars - they're good all over again."

I haven't bought a wall calendar for many years, and thanks to a quirky tip, this year will be no different.

My mom has been sending me beautiful calendars as gifts every year for over a decade. An added bonus is that their purchase has supported non-profit environmental groups (my mom is nice, and green).

This year, for the first time in years, mom didn't send a calendar. She had radiation treatment for a brain tumour just before solstice, and couldn't fill her role as the calendar elf. So I took down 2012, and thought about what 2013 would bring for mom. And for me - I don't have a calendar, and I am definitely not going to buy one.

I say that this is a quirky tip because I am not sure if it is for frugal reuse, or for hoarding old calendars. I mean, who would actually have old calendars hanging around? Uh, well, me as it turns out.

All the calendars mom sent over the years had amazing photographs of beautiful, wilderness settings. That is why I have kept some over the years - for artistic inspiration, and perhaps to paint one or two in watercolours (something that hasn't happened yet).

I went looking for a calendar from 2002, the most recent year that can be used for this year. I almost hoped I didn't have one - do minimalists have 10 year old calendars lurking around their tiny homes? I knew I definitely didn't have a calendar from 1901, but 2002 was within the realm of possibility.

crescent
waning

Digging into my art supply container, I located several old time trackers. The oldest one was from 1998, which will be good again in 2015. After flipping through about 10 newer calendars, I hit the jackpot - 2002. I hung it in the void on the wall left by 2012, and noticed the days did indeed match up, even if the moon phases were off by a bit.

I was a little freaked out that I have been carrying around old calendars for as long as I have, even if they are beautiful and can be reused eventually. Whatever I lost in minimalist cred, I gained in frugality and reuse, but it did make me wonder about the things we hang on to.

Now that I know my calendar stash is more than nice pictures, it is hard to give in to the urge to purge. Linda has done one drawing from 'the collection'. From 2002 at that. Arghh... I slipped them back into the art box.

Here are the calendar years that will work for this year, 2013. Hopefully your stash doesn't go back as far as 111 years... although it would be interesting if it did. 

2002
1991
1985
1974
1963
1957
1946
1935
1929
1918
1907
1901

Frugal reuse, or hoarding? You decide. And mom, thanks for the calendar... again.

For more calendar reuse information see here.

Is Money Hoarding A Debilitating Mental Illness?

Past a certain, fairly modest amount, collecting more money serves no actual purpose. It will not increase your ability to survive, and may actually impede it. The super rich still get sick, and they still die. Just like the rest of us.

Then what is all the cash for? If it serves no purpose over a certain threshold due to diminishing returns, what is the drive that feeds this illness that is spreading like a cat hoarder's kittens?

2011 broke records, reports Forbes Magazine, for the number of billionaires. 1210 individuals were diagnosed this year with an extreme form of cash hoarding. Mental health experts should be looking into this before we are all affected by the fallout of this debilitating mental illness.

World's Biggest Hoarders of Cash

1. Carlos Slim Helu, Mexico
2. Bill Gates, USA
3. Warren Buffett, USA
4. Bernard Arnault, France
5. Larry Ellison, USA

Collectively these patients have hoarded 261 Billion dollars. That is enough cash to stuff the average bungalow to the ceilings with filthy lucre.

These individuals are often resistant to treatment, and should be closely monitored.

Sleeping Under The Stars vs. A Messy Garage

Sleeping under the stars is as basic as it gets

Frost & Hartl's ('96) definition of clinical hoarding:

(1) the acquisition of, and failure to discard, a large number of possessions that appear to be of useless or of limited value; (2) living spaces sufficiently cluttered so as to preclude activities for which those spaces were designed; and (3) significant distress or impairment in functioning caused by the hoarding.

I watched my first episode of Hoarders recently when I had access to a TV with more than one fuzzy channel. After two episodes I didn't need to see any more. It made me think about these individuals that make up less than 1% of the population, but represent a situation most of us are familiar with in some way in our own lives.

Hoarders represent the far end of the spectrum - hyperstuffism. At the other end we have hypostuffism, or asceticism - living without stuff. The majority of us fall somewhere in between the two, but we may show signs of both.

For example, I enjoy simple surroundings, and have always enjoyed camping. Of all the places I have slept, the best were nights spent in a tent in the wilderness. I have always loved how primal it feels, with nothing separating you from the life surrounding you.

For the full effect, when nights are nice enough, I like to sleep under the stars. I have been woken up by mice repeatedly jumping off of drift logs onto my sleeping bag while I camped out on the beach. I find that kind of simplicity exhilarating.

Then I turn attention to my inner hoarder, because despite my enjoyment of living the pared down life, I also exhibit some traits from the other end of the spectrum. When I look around my living space I can see my own brushes with acquisition, clutter, and impairment of function.

How about the paper plate that a gift of Christmas cookies came on? I can't seem to get rid of it - I found a (questionable) use for it as I absorbed it into my loot lair. Then there is my stash of paper bags of all sizes. Those are useful. Aren't they? Boxes of old bills. Things I haven't used for years taking up room both in my space and my head.

Funny thing is, the definition at the top describes most of us, although in a less clinical way. The owners of most of the garages I have peered into could be seen as exhibiting all of the criteria of hoarding. And there is little doubt that our collections of stuff are causing "significant distress or impairment" both personally and globally.

One solution is to not involve oneself in "the acquisition of, and failure to discard, a large number of possessions that appear to be of useless or of limited value". But that is darn hard to achieve, and doesn't this describe most of our stuff?

Am I free of the burden of stuff?

If you have ever seen an episode of Hoarders you will know how hard it is for the patients to relieve themselves of their things. But in order to relieve the distress and impairment, possessions that are of limited value or are causing dysfunction, must be eliminated.  

It will be easier for those of us that have not been diagnosed as clinical hoarders, but we may still feel some discomfort as we transform our lives toward increased sustainability and freedom.

But it will be worth it, and it will be a wonderful thing. Like mice using you for a trampoline in the middle of the night as you fall sleep under the stars listening to waves breaking on the beach. A tad unnerving, but when all is said and done, more free and joyful than a messy garage.

There's No Garbage, Only Resources

Some hoarders report seeing material objects, no matter how lowly, in a different way than most people. An 'adjusted' person can toss an empty paper coffee cup aside without a thought, while the hoarder would agonize over this same simple act. The hoarder knows the cup is still useful, so can't throw it away. I fall somewhere in between these two extremes.

Where I fall, though, is more toward the hoarders way of seeing things. I cringe when people throw away perfectly good items. Where most people see garbage, waste, and refuse, I see gifts, wonder, and resources. I am an excellent candidate for hoarderism.

In truth, though, I could never be a hoarder because I ruthlessly limit what enters my home. Last week a neighbour stopped by to say she was moving out soon. She invited me over to see if there was any furniture or household items that she could give me. Free.

"No", I said almost immediately, "there is nothing that I need, but thank you very much for the offer."

Not only am I not buying anything, but you can't even GIVE me anything any more. I don't want it, I don't need it. I am achieving a steady state where I am satisfied with my quality of life, and my quantity of stuff. Steady as she goes.

But stuff still manages to get into my house, mostly as packaging in my groceries. Plastic mesh bags for example. My inner hoarder will not let me throw them away - they are resources. I enjoy challenging myself to see what kind of creative uses I can come up with for such items.

I found several uses for the mesh bags:

• suet feeders for the birds
• bottle washer made from a short, straight stick with the plastic mesh on one end
  
• hangers to get onions, bananas, and tomatoes off my small counter tops - I hang them from under my upper cupboards
• folded into dish and/or vegetable scrubbers
• soap holder to reduce soap slime in the dish
• you can pull them over your head and face without suffocating
• and, you can use a mesh bag to hold all your mesh bags

Now if I could just figure out what to do with all that belly button lint.