Most of the adjustments we made were gradual. Over time. But some adjustments – especially in the early days – hit me a like fish in the face. I had these romantic ideas about things off-the-grid and then I found out that much of them were myths. I was, it seems, embarking on a path of fantasy in many ways. Going rural was not all sweetness and light. Neither was going green. And even if it was, it was expensive sweetness and fossil-fuel-generated light. This was the expression of that realization:
Minimalism and living off-grid is all the latest rage in lifestyle chic. It’s practically ‘de rigeur’ if you live rural or subscribe to Mother Earth News, home of the DIY $10.00 gymnasium. Mission style furniture, the VW Beetle, bottled water, hiking, even Martha Stewart’s ‘simple creations’ made from soap scraps; it’s all about appreciating the simple things in life. Minimalism – in theory, anyway – is about stopping to smell the flowers. But simple isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. For one thing, it’s complicated. And, for another, it’s pretty damn expensive.
Minimalism and living off-the-grid is also a dichotomy if not a cognitive dissonance. Less, they are trying to say, is more. But it is also more equipment. Minimalism, as it is currently promoted, emphasizes simple over complicated but also expensive over cheap. Think mountain bikes, Starbucks and Gore-Tex. Think PV panels, inverters, batteries and generators. Think property prices, timberframes and boats – lots of boats. Only the well-off can afford to do with less and they need all that stuff to do it, right? Sort of like being thin by paying for gym membership, personal trainers and buying local organic at Meinhardts. To be a thoroughly modern minimalist one should walk, but walk in Rockports, ride, but ride in Ballard fuel celled cars and generally try to make life appear simple through exclusive and expensive means. That’s not easy. And when simple isn’t easy, something is wrong, I say.
I aspire to simple but I can’t cut it. Too stupid and cheap, I suppose. Ugly, too, if you must know. I look like a giant athletic bag in Gore-Tex. And I have a lot of trouble buying more expensive walking shoes (is there another kind?) as opposed to the normal shoes I usually find myself walking in. I am beginning to think minimalism refers to the amount of satisfaction one gets, rather than to the lifestyle. It may also refer to your eventual bank account or, possibly, lifespan. But it does not refer to the amount of effort or money expended. Trust me. Minimalism is not for the lazy or the budget conscious.
Being a minimalist is a major commitment, not a fickle lifestyle whim like bean-bag furniture or Pilates. Once you go simple, there is no turning back. Go minimal or go home (which you can‘t do if you sold it) I always say.
Minimalism also requires study. For one thing, it seems to require an unnatural commitment to learning about product content and business practices. One has to buy from fair wage countries that don’t pollute or pray too much. All employees involved have to be content with life and be happily married, preferably non-smokers and their kids must be breast-fed. How can anyone know this? And, do we really want to ask the questions?
Minimalists, it seems, eschew larger companies for smaller ones and always prefer to buy hand-made. And, conflictingly to me anyway, hand-made stainless steel items seem to be the best (how do they do that?). Minimalism requires a heavy investment in hand-cranking devices and non-power tools, too. One needs lots of such tools to be a simple minimalist.
Where a phone and a phone book once sufficed to effect repairs, the minimalist man now needs a 40-foot container of tools and a happily breast-fed, non-exploited assistant to feed and manage the draft horse. Forest Gump wouldn’t be allowed to join a group of minimalists, ya know. Neither would Mahatma Ghandi.
You also have to boycott the ‘grid’. Being ‘plugged in’, it seems, is bad. Sitting in the dark, ergo, must be good in some kind of alternative culture way. And you should stay only as clean as you must to gain admittance to a theatre. Don’t overdo water consumption despite the fact that a gallon or ten falls on your head every day you live in BC where I live. Use less, even if there is plenty. In this way, we help the fish. I think.
Did I mention pooping? Don’t try to move your bowels without a considerable investment in bio-technology and composting, and the willingness to maintain a politically correct system of transport and storage for your poop – something you were simply trying to get rid of. It’s no longer bowel moving, it’s now bowel moving and storage.
And don’t try to read a book without first rediscovering the principles of generating light from scratch. And, for God’s sake, don’t eat anything without determining if it’s organic and the farmers love, pet and name their chickens. There also has to be a plan to replace it, recycle the containers and replenish the fuels required to cook it. It would also help if you could do all this without washing the dishes, wasting any water or using any refrigerant or fossil fuels. Nothing comes easy in a simple life.
I was initially attracted to minimalism. I liked the idea of simple. City living was getting me down and, quite frankly, I was understanding less and less of what was going on. I aspire to little, want for nothing and desire even less. Minimalism sounded like my cup of tea. But I have reluctantly concluded I don’t have the money or the brains required to be simple. I guess that I am destined to remain a complicated man. It’s cheaper and easier.
Our Off the Grid Home 