More and Bigger Always Better?

In the last 50 years we Americans have doubled our living standards, added a full month to our annual work hours and tripled our per capita spending. We are on the work-and-spend treadmill which our culture promotes, requiring us to work more hours to pay for our spending. We typically define “success” as wealth, power, and status. Our businesses worship economic growth. Even our President himself told us it was our patriotic duty after 9/11 to spend our money so our economic growth would not be disrupted. However, our business and political leaders have finally come to realize that our planet cannot survive to the end of the 21st century if we continue this highly materialistic lifestyle that not only depletes our resources but interferes with our nonmaterial needs.

Research studies on happiness show that once our basic material needs are met for food, clothing and shelter, the keys to happiness are found in relationships, community, meaningful work or purpose, spirituality, and connection with nature.[1] Some of us have rejected the cultural conditioning that more and bigger are always better. We have voluntarily chosen to reduce our consumption, spend less than we earn and live a simple lifestyle which means living only with what we truly need or genuinely cherish. Our choice not only helps to preserve our planet’s resources but saves personal time and energy required for acquiring, storing, maintaining, insuring, and eventually disposing of our possessions. The result is that we free up physical and emotional energy that we had devoted to maintaining our possessions and have more time for personal relationships, fulfilling work, creative pursuits, community service, and enjoying nature.

[1] Linda Breen Pierce, Simplicity Lessons, p. 10.

Boardwalk Strolls

Copyright © 2008 Judith J. Bentley

From my sea-side window, the sun rises,
a red ball resting on a thin blue line
as the sea’s salty presence
rushes, pushes, and slaps the shore

I have traveled here before
for morning and evening boardwalk strolls
where different lives are possible—
I don't often know such choices

The sea gulls sail over the land, their voices
squeal and squawk along the shore's edge,
they swoop like miniature kites unfettered
their webbed feet resting at last in the wet foam

One nestled in his blue gray feathers, alone
tucks his head behind his white breast,
while small creatures scrawl
their cuneiform messages on the sand

At the water's edge, others stand
as if watching the tide come in
while a child peddles a bike path
and hand in hand couples pass by

Now the lamplights are lit in the night sky
They cast a shimmering glow
The sea gulls grow silent
The splashing waters calm

Far out at sea a large tanker has put down anchor
And a single light from the lighthouse shines.