A Moment On The Soapbox

Americans clearly have a dysfunctional relationship with food. We eat things that are bad for us, we eat in such a way that discourages health, we tell ourselves that we are fat, and we worship skinny people.

Let's not talk about coupons just yet. Let's not talk about bulk purchasing, cooking, vegetarianism, gardening, or the million and one ways you could save money in the kitchen. Let's just take a moment to talk about the REAL correlation between food and money.

Money and Food are ways to control one's self and one's environment. Some of us use any excuse to treat ourselves, with either a trip to the mall or a bag of cookies. What we don't talk about is a tendency to punish ourselves by the same token...we get our bank statement or step on the scale, sigh, and write up a budget or meal plan.

There are two reasons this bothers me. First, as someone who doesn't diet (or budget, really), it's really boring to hear about other people's restrictions. Second, and vastly more important, is that our national hysteria regarding food is REALLY, REALLY BAD FOR YOUNG GIRLS.

These young girls grow up and become women. They become mothers. They become grandmothers. And they are encouraged every step of the way to treat themselves like idiots, like naughty children, like desperate scumbags because they give into cravings for food that they see advertised almost every waking hour of their lives.

Count the number of fast food advertisements you see in a day. I dare you to even try. Count the billboards on your commute, count the television commercials, the radio advertisements, the magazine pictures and the coupons delivered door to door. Count how many times you see cheesy pizzas, sizzling burgers, and crispy fried chicken, and then tell me the countless people who can't seem to resist excess fats and sugars are simply weak-minded.

The next day, count the number of women you can find who are honestly happy with their bodies. Young, old, fat, skinny...call your friends and ask. Call your sisters and daughters and mother.

Women don't outgrow anorexia. They justify it, their doctors justify it, and it sucks. It makes me very angry and very sad. My husband's mother was the most wonderful woman I have ever met, and she suffered with the disease her entire life. She isn't the only octogenarian we know who wanted to lose weight at the worst possible age.

So, the first step I'd like you to take on your financial journey - especially if you are a woman - is to learn to tolerate yourself. I know that this was my first step. The second? Befriend yourself. Maybe you can skip these steps. Maybe you can skip straight to loving yourself.

There's not a fourth step of this nature. Loving yourself, unconditionally, will be a lifelong process. You will forget and remember again. You will disappoint yourself, lie to yourself, and cheat yourself. But if you forgive, over and over again, maybe the food idiocy that plagues our society will fade into the background of your existence. Squeezing into a size six won't be your default focus, there are challenges much more worthy of your attention.

Subversive Sustainability

Ours is a consumer culture.

To consume is to destroy or use up. Therefore, we are a people of destruction. To this end we wage wars, shape economies, and educate our young. All species consume to live, but many of us live to consume. We work, work, work, buy, buy, buy, and then leave the planet significantly less capable of handling the next wave of industrialized people.

To subvert is also to destroy, but institutions, standards, and status quo are the victims. To consume an old growth forest is acceptable, to subvert Wall Street would be criminal. That's what we humans have to work with. We live in exciting times.

Sustainability is the opposite of consumption and subversion, but I believe that the pursuit of sustainability, in this day and age, is ultimately a subversive act. If we were all to roll out of bed tomorrow and say, "that's it, to Hell with the oil industry, I'm riding my bike or staying home," the world as we know it would effectively end. And I'm not dumb enough to expect that to be a clean revolution, or even a desirable revolution.

As individuals, however, we can roll out of bed and say, "today, I will not destroy." Very rarely will that result in limiting the choice of another, until so many individuals choose sustainability over consumption that the current market system folds under its own weight. Naturally there will be folks who prefer the current system, but that's the price of progress, and they have plenty of time and resources to fight the good fight.

Understand that much of modern consumption is a matter of dependence, whereas sustainability is independence. Go to the store and buy a bag of potato chips, and you are dependent on dozens of systems - not only the producers and transporters of the chips, but the employers who provide the income necessary to make such a purchase. You are stuck between a rock and a hard place. Plant a potato, though, and you find the sustainability: one potato produces many, each capable of producing exponentially more potatoes. There is no better bargain: food begets food. No one can fire you from your garden.

The pursuit of sustainability is both subversive and empowering. Knitting, building, repairing, cooking, baking, walking, sewing, sharing, writing, reading, and teaching are all activities that can take place outside the capitalist model. Take this path and you will find that beauty trumps fashion, meaningful work beats exhaustive paper-shuffling, friendship is more valuable than networking.

Creation is  preferable to destruction.

Yeah, Me Too

Experiences in factory employment that I do not want to forget, in no particular order:

One day I went to get water and a sign next to the cooler said, "Arsenic Contaminated Waste Only." Intellectually I knew that the sign had just been placed on the table before being mounted at its permanent location, and that the water probably was not arsenic contaminated, but I decided to go without regardless.

The day the Plastic Bag Ban passed in Austin, I was sitting down to lunch with my coworkers and thought about bringing up this exciting news. I knew that few of them would have heard of it, and many might rail against the idea, and I didn't want to have to argue a point...as I contemplated this, a man next to me opened up one of those tiny 5-hour Energy abominations, threw the cap over his shoulder, and downed the poison in one gulp. I kept my mouth shut.

There was an acid spill in our storage area, and we had to check all the materials with ph strips. A couple of weeks later some of the guys showed me holes in their gloves and jeans that had been eaten through. Later still, I was waiting for an elevator when something splashed from the ceiling onto the sleeve of my shirt. Thankfully, it was just water. Later I realized that, if that ever happened again, I should cut my sleeve off before deciding whether it was acid or water.

The other female apprentice would playfully greet my approach with a wolf whistle. The first time I heard it, not knowing it was her, I was pissed. When I related this to a coworker, he was dumbfounded, "It's just a compliment!" I explained my reason for disliking the implication and not wanting to encourage such behavior, but he occasionally indulged in whistling at me from then on.

The week before Christmas I was asked about my plans after work. "I have a lot of shopping for the holidays," I answered. "Oh, then you will be like a real woman."

The first couple of days at work as the only woman on the crew men were literally taking work out of my arms. In order to shame them out of their pretended chivalry, I had to quickly learn to shift my weight and balance a heavy load using only one hand. This was not only to make it obvious that I could handle myself, but freed up my other hand to make it very clear that I'd fight for my right to lift, literally pushing over-aggressive "helpers" away from me.

The day after I learned this trick a man from Puerto Rico explained to me that they weren't being sexist, but I was making the guys look bad by doing their job so well.

A few months later, the same man went out of his way to wish me a happy International Women's Day. He asked me how I planned to celebrate. He described the parties his family had on this day and the festivals they attended.

Sitting with another apprentice, the closest to be a friend of mine, and President Obama comes up: "Man, that guy is so messed up. He hasn't done anyone good at all." Curious about specific complaints, I mention a couple of things Obama did that I approved of, such as revoking Don't Ask Don't Tell. My friend was perplexed, he was under the impression that homosexuals weren't allowed to join the military. As I explained the bill, he grit his teeth. "Well, I kind of agree with that." With don't ask don't tell? With secrecy and oppression?! "Well yeah, that's not natural. I mean...men are supposed to be with women. That's the way it is. People shouldn't choose to go against that."
I'd never in my life imagined sitting down and eating with a blatant bigot. It was out of my world. But I was 100% comfortable saying, "call it a choice if you want, but if it is a choice, it's one countless men and women have been willing to die for, die horrible deaths for, and live unspeakably difficult lives over, within basically every culture for the extent of recorded history. That's a strange choice for thousands of humans to make when incredibly few cultures provide that as an option in any way."
My friend's countenance went dark. He stared at the table. And finally he said, "all I know is that I've been raised a certain way, and maybe not everyone is raised to believe the same things." I'd never seen doubt so vibrantly revealed, and I realized how painful it is to really change as a person. He left early that day, without a word to anyone.

My first week of work when Nae, the journeywoman carpenter, was still with the company, she secretly asked the foreman not to pair us together. He ignored her and we were partners for the rest of that project. She grew fond of my, though, and became my champion. Eventually, she confessed: "You look so delicate, so petite! I didn't think you would work. I didn't think you would last. But you're so much stronger than you seem."

For about five weeks I have been going to an acupuncturist at the recommendation of my physician. She checks my pulse and I am surprised by her frown. Everyone's always commented on my healthy blood pressure. But she tells me my pulse is extremely slow. "You don't have the vitality you should at your age."

I read one of my journals from working at the cooperative brewpub last year, and can't believe how hard I had to fight a reputation for being slow, despite consistently completing the majority of the daily tasks. I recall that my reputation at every other job was hard-won over the course of months. I never got the promotion on the first go, but eventually I'd make the top of every list and stay there. I lack vitality, but not stamina. I'm not big, but I'm strong.

One of the first things my first union shop teacher said to me: "I hope you make it."

Money As Energy

 My doctor has been recommending acupuncture for several months now, so I finally made my way south to Peaceful Village. It was a pretty interesting experience, and I did feel much more grounded afterward. I'll attend a few more sessions and see what develops.

Acupuncture is about adjusting the flow of Chi, and my practitioner basically said that didn't seem to be a problem for me. She suspects my issues stem from a lack of energy rather than actual blockage. She advised me to focus on eating nutritionally dense foods and maybe doing some yoga that would work on my "core."

After the session I decided to treat myself to an eye exam and maybe a haircut. I ended up getting neither, as I was waylaid by a sign at the Herb Bar advertising half-hour chair massages for $30. I couldn't resist, and bought my first professional massage. It was amazing!

I spent the rest of the day feeling great and cooking delicious beets, carrots, peas, and chard from our garden. I felt so good, but couldn't help but wonder about the diagnosis of low energy. To be honest, I am tired a lot of the time, so much so that I have fallen into a bad habit of taking deep fifteen minute naps in my truck before and after work, drinking sodas to help me through the day, and resenting any family or friends that want my weekend time. I force myself to cook, most nights, but barely have the strength to eat. In fact, I literally fell asleep trying to eat dinner one evening. But my blood sugar is fine, my blood pressure is healthy (if a little low), and my work isn't as strenuous as waiting tables...

One of the firs things I noticed this morning was my money tracking graph. The most recent entry is the most disturbing: the income line climbs to an absolutely unprecedented peak, yet the expense line towers above it. I earned more than ever, and spent significantly more than that. While I don't feel guilty because that towering peak represents thousands of dollars of debt payment, I suddenly recalled the YMOYL definition of money as life energy. The more I end, the more I spend, without reservation.

Is there a correlation between how I spend my money and how I dole out my time and physical resources? Do I habitually give more than I actually have, month after month, year after year? Physically, I should be in peak condition, and Darling and I should be financially comfortable. Yet my body symptomatically suggests otherwise, even as I milk our bank account dry to service debt.

I'm not a metaphysical person, but I can't help but ponder the implications. After all, the debt is coming to an end. Three months from now that expense line is going to plummet while that income line (hopefully) finds a healthy balance. Might my energy levels find a similar balance, where I work only enough to support myself, have time leftover for social obligations, and have plenty of leisure time to spare? Is that what yesterday's pampering session was, a sudden shift towards self-care to match the upcoming shift in finances?

That paper we trade for goods, after all, is symbolic. What we do with it can be an unconscious illustration of how we allow energy of all sorts to flow through our lives. Right now almost all of my energy, financial and otherwise, flows away from me, because of my intensity in paying debt. Are people in the downward debt cycle more likely to supplement all their energy needs - depending on caffeine rather than sleep, diet pills instead of exercise, digital entertainment rather than friendships? And are people who earn more money than they need to meet their realistic needs, people who over-earn, more likely to over-sleep, over-eat, and otherwise over-indulge?

Could Enough be a holistic state? If I earn exactly as much money necessary to meet my needs, will the rest of my life magically fall into balance?

Having Purchased Happiness

Because money can't necessarily buy happiness, it is assumed that the two bear little relation to each other. Some people believe that money and happiness are contradictory forces in life, that "simplicity" trumps "wealth" to such a degree that a fat wallet dooms one to misery and dissatisfaction. I have one friend, an artist, who insists that to find herself suddenly a millionaire would be an unfortunate state, because to have money in this world directly correlates with corruption and exploitation. I agree with her up to a point.

A lot of us have forgotten that we spend money every moment of every day, not necessarily at the store or cafe, but sitting in our very homes. We spend money to heat our houses and boil water for tea, and every second the computer hums is a fraction of a penny converted into electricity. The taxes we pay support our troops, public education, roads, libraries, prisons, and scientific grants. Because these costs are so subtly hidden, revealed once a month or year in an obscurely written bill, we shake our fists and think not of the hours spent snuggling up in warm beds reading late into the night, but of evil bureaucrats skimming the cream off our hard-earned paychecks. We consider such pleasures not happiness purchased but entitlements earned by being members of a developed civilization.

Many of us earn and spend tens of thousands of dollars a year without hesitation, and worse, without appreciation. We live carelessly and thanklessly. Agrarian cultures grew food and thanked the soil and the sky, the seeds and animals. We live in absurd luxury and complain bitterly about the rising cost of gas and electricity, our lengthy commutes and the poor quality of practically free entertainment wired to our homes. Anything expensive and luxurious enough to require recognition, such as cell phones and cars, is redefined as a "need" so we can justify our resentment.

So the majority of our time is spent working 4-12 hour shifts at jobs that can rarely be described as labor. The time converts to money, most of which is lost to taxes that keep our communities operating (you want to close prisons? schools? animal shelters?), and then another huge percentage covers food, rent or mortgage, and utilities that keep our homes from deteriorating. Many of us have barely enough left to cover perceived needs - the aforementioned cars and telecommunication systems that we insist are necessary to maintain employment - as well as clothing, personal care, medical attention, and enough entertainment to keep the kids from putting themselves up for adoption.

If not for the credit industry, many of us would stop here. After all, these preliminary expenses are expensive. But credit enables us to go to college regardless of financial (or scholastic) ability, as well as buy a house, get married, and have children before reaching anything looking like financial security. Emergencies ranging from a medical catastrophe to a late night snack attack loom behind every corner. We swipe our cards, make minimum payments, and work like crazy to keep our jobs. All the while, few of us recognize our incredible good fortune to have been born in this place and time. Our minor plights and obstacles make the wealth and it's pursuit fairly interesting, sometimes scary and hopeless, despite the fact that the vast majority of us will never face homelessness or hunger, and almost none of us could starve or freeze to death if we tried.

The recession is depressing. Many Americans have lost homes and jobs, but these losses are almost symbolic when considered from a historical perspective. When someone "loses" a home in America, they are actually leaving a building they never actually owned and could not afford. It is sad and horrible and ruins lifestyles, but it hardly ever kills anyone. This is one of the worse things that can possibly happen to you...and it's not that bad. Granted, I've never lost a home to foreclosure, and probably never will. Not because I'm smarter than the average American but because my standards are substantially lower.

My point is not to be cold-hearted or even to suggest that Americans who are going through the hell of bankruptcy look on the bright side. My point is that a lot of us are spending thousands of dollars on happiness, and squandering it. Most of us are pursuing happiness on credit, happiness we'll never actually pay for, and blindly wondering when our boat will come in. And worse, many of us are anxiously fingering bills, avoiding the bank, and praying for a raise, because we don't know how long we'll be able to continue our cycle of financial abuse.

Someday we'll have to turn down the thermostat, we grimace, tugging our sweaters tighter, someday we'll have to sell the car, move somewhere cheaper, pull the kids out of private school... And in the meantime, the kids are happily munching on mac 'n cheese while hubby flips through hundreds of televisions stations and we play solitaire on the computer because who could find a deck of cards in all our junk?

In the meantime, we're happy. We've not only bought happiness, but we've been coerced into buying happiness by our friends and neighbors. We're jaded by happiness, numb to it's effects, occasionally guilty for our affluence. We try and buy more and fail, because we've forgotten the joy of the perfect sweater at a good price, we're bored by the relentless affordable car hunt and the endless questions and labels of quality: organic, locally grown, all-natural, non-pasteurized...

The good news? There's nothing but good news! The time has come to acknowledge it, to experience the beauty of life and freedom. Financially, it's dangerous to be happy - at least that's what we've been told since communism reared its red head. But why not try it out for a bit? Turn off the television and computer and count your blessings. Sit with your husband and take a stroll down memory lane. What is his favorite memory? What was your favorite day? What have you done right without meaning to? Does he still find you attractive? If you're single, get with your friends. If you are too busy working, why? Do you actually like your awful, thankless work? I love my dumb job.

Not being happy in this day and age is like owning a sports car you don't drive. You already shelled out the cash, you're paying more at this very moment. Why not enjoy this happiness you work so hard to purchase?