Lifestyle Limitations

This subject has been on my mind for awhile... sort of simmering in the background I suppose.  It's a difficult thing to put into words.  It is not intended to offend, obviously, (how often do people really intend to offend), but I hope it maybe makes you rethink a few things.

Over Christmas, when I went home, the contrast between the worlds in which I have existed was thrown into sharp relief.  My life in Indiana was surrounded by the middle class, even middle/upper class.  The middle class norm was my norm, and my concept of the number and quality of things we need to make our lives happy and comfortable stemmed from what surrounded me.

The view of life from my seat had a certain pattern: you go to college, get a good job, get married (which includes accumulating a large amount of wedding registry items), buy a house, accumulate more stuff, have children, buy your children all the things they could ever need, send them to college, retire, travel, etc.  It seemed that all around me people were walking this invisible timeline with its invisible milestones and visible stuff.  No one says it's what you have to do, but they're all walking it.  It's the good ol' American dream: the pursuit of the middle/upper class.

That's natural, right?  I mean, when you get married, you gotta get that Kitchen Aid mixer, right? (never baked in your life? so what)  And of course you need to redecorate the room as a nursery when you have a child, right? And for my summer wardrobe this year, I just really need two more pairs of shorts, a flowy tank top because I don't have one of those, and a pair of strappy sandals that would round everything out.  And really, if my TV were just a little bigger it would make my life better.

Actually, I think that our own concepts of what we need in our lives is entirely skewed.

By the way, if it sounds like I'm pointing fingers, I'm totally guilty of this. Definitely more with clothing, food, and smaller items because I've never had enough money to buy furniture or matching appliances.

If you ask most of the 3rd graders in Green River what they want to be when they grow up, they say a cashier. It's all they've ever known.  I would venture to say that 90% of the jobs in this town are part-time.  The 9:00 to 5:00 just doesn't exist, and the middle class hardly does.  And shockingly, people are still happy with their lives. But beyond those who get somewhat stuck here- because of cycles of poverty and lack of opportunities- there are some people who actually choose to live here, accepting this isolated small town and it's lifestyle limitations.

I'm only one example of a Green River resident, and I have it better than most.  My current reality is $10,000 a year (the poverty line for a single person).  There are still a few costs I haven't totally taken over for myself (holding off on that health insurance until 26), but for the most part, $10,000 a year is totally doable for me.  It just means that I have mismatched furniture, a TV from 1980, and a plastic dresser for my clothes. I won't be buying a new car anytime soon, and I visit the food pantry once a month or so. It requires the conscious effort to look at nicer, more aesthetically pleasing, more exciting or even useful things and say yes, that looks amazing.  I would love to have it.  But that doesn't mean I need it.  And, of course, it means I'm not walking the invisible timeline.  I can't accumulate many things, I'm not looking at buying a house anytime in the near future, and since I'm not married, I don't have to worry about children drawing on my meager funds.

Sometimes I feel like people look at me with a little concern, and the doubts about whether it's worth it creep in: But what if you never do anything with your life?  What if you stay in this little small town forever and no one beyond your little community and your family has ever heard or cared about you?  What if you don't ever have a large home, or a wardrobe with all the things you want, or the ability to go out to eat and buy all the high-quality cooking ingredients you want?  What if, though not quite as relevant, you never have a family?  What if, in short, you life doesn't follow the invisible timeline that you've never acknowledged but have always wanted?

You know, I'm becoming more and more OK with that.   

You don't have to embark on a journey to the middle/upper class to have a worthwhile life. 

You don't really need those matching mugs or throw pillows or new furniture or the latest technology.

Those things are pretty and useful and tempting and so seemingly harmless, but they rob us of something very precious- the opportunity to spend our time and our money doing and creating things we love, things of purpose, rather than accumulating things we only marginally care about.  You can be happy choosing to have less and less-than-perfect things.  (Besides, you really won't be satisfied with your new furniture for long.)  I'm not going to go with the "use your money to travel and experience things" because while those things are cool, there are even more important things.  Invest in something you really care about.  Support a friend.  Give it to a local non-profit who's cause you care about (I guarantee they would love your unrestricted funds).  Start a small business.  If it's time you have and not money, find a thing that you really care about, no matter how big or small, and make that thing happen.

Please, just do anything except continue to consume things you don't actually need.   We are made to do so much more.

It's easier for me.  I don't have money.  So my challenge, I suppose, is to those of you who have a choice.

And really, with views like this, what else do I need?