Natural Family Living

When Less is More: Living Light and Thriving
By Danielle Davis

I'm drawn to modern architecture that embodies Mies van der Rohe's principle "less is more" for more than its sleek lines, open floor plans, and high design accolades. Less in the way of adornment and clutter also means less to clean and fewer crevices and cupboards where stuff can pile up. Less peripheral means more focus on the important stuff-the kitchen table, the reading nook, the light coming through the window.

The same principle applies to the life lived in one's home, modern or not, house or apartment. By letting go of some of the excess, we get more of the "stuff" we want to focus on-the essentials, the life-giving experiences. By letting go of obligations, we get more time to do what we love. When we spend less money, our savings and security burgeon.

What about living lighter, living "less," in terms of an environmental footprint? The same goes. It may seem that in order to live consciously of the earth we must experience loss and sacrifice, we must inherently give things up. While that may sometimes be true, I believe we almost always gain and grow more abundant in the process of being earthwise, just like how by scrimping and saving your allowance when you're a kid you may not get the pleasures of candy bars or arcade games for a few weeks, but you may be able to afford that guitar or pair of roller skates later on-gifts that will bring many months of learning and levity rather than a few minutes of enjoyment. While I'm fond of both chocolate and Ms. Pacman, it still holds true that when we let go of certain things to lighten our eco-impact we often, also, get more of something else.

This is certainly true collectively. If we, as a country or group of countries, give up our oil and coal addictions, our air will be cleaner and our world healthier for generations to come. If we give up irresponsible logging we'll have richer, diverse habitats and more ancient forests hanging around. But even on a small scale, in each individual's life, there is much to be gained by giving up practices that carry a large eco-impact--more abundance in terms of living creatively along with connection to others, to our food, to nature and our neighborhoods, and to ourselves. I know from personal experience that when I forgo the car and instead lug my bike up to the street armed with proper shoes and a hat, I may be sacrificing privacy, convenience, controlled temperature, and listening to the radio, but I always feel more alive and energized getting to my destination after being active and out in the world where I can feel the wind, hear the birds, and see people and cars going by. Not to mention what I saved in gas money.

Consider these ways that less, environmentally speaking, can indeed be more.

Living an eco/conscious life isn't a matter of seeing how much you can suffer (especially if we're fortunate enough to be financially afloat in these times). It's about balance and abundance. I love my computer-I'm a blogger after all, no old-fashioned, technology-loather here-but I turn it off every so often so that I can take a walk, read a book, meet a friend, water my container garden. I buy things. But by buying used or recycled or things that might last, that might bring pleasure and whose production had the well-being of people and the planet in mind, I get less stuff and more satisfaction.

One of the rich staples of my week is eating tortillas I make from scratch with my husband with flour from a local bulk bin during a couple of hours on Sunday spent mixing and rolling and flipping. Not to mention the feeling of pleasure I get from snipping parsley from my garden, having a crisper bin full of locally grown veggies, packing a zero-waste picnic, walking on an errand, scouring the racks at a thrift store for a funky, well-made coat, and making space to do the things I feel passionate about. Sure, I have to get to the farmer's market every Saturday, water the plants, fill my water bottle, pack my lunch, wash my clothes after purchasing them, get a good pair of walking shoes, and organize my time, but I don't feel the pinch when that means forfeiting shrink-wrap, plastic throwaways, unfairly traded goods, weary produce, gas and traffic, or frazzled nerves.

If our lives are anything like architecture, then a life that's simple, streamlined, and consciously-designed is one where we can thrive.