Consumption: Life in the City (Part 1)
A Rewilding Mind
Hi there, it’s Hillarie! A Rewilding Mind is a bi-weekly reflection on nature and the mindset needed to develop a relationship with it. Read on for my big ideas on to returning to nature, find to ourselves, and creating community.
Dear friends,
The flowers are here and everyday I look forward to spotting the latest blooms—bluebells, a deep red peony, wild daisies, and sweet little forget-me-nots. They are simply delightful and I am already sad that this won’t last forever. What flowers are you seeing in your neck of the woods?
This week, I stumbled across the book Consumed and it has me thinking a lot about my own consumerism after moving to the country. It’s been a pretty drastic shift, put in motion by moving to the country and learning to love nature. To be honest, it has been a long and painful journey, but I think it is an important shift to explore, as many of us desire to simplify and develop a relationship with nature. Over the next few issues, I am going to break down my experience, starting with consumption in the city.
In the city, everything felt optimized for consumption. I worked in the buzzing heart of downtown Seattle, and most days started and ended consumption. A quick coffee and a pastry before getting to the office. Quick lunch from the cafe downstairs. Pop over to the market for a few groceries after work. And after putting the kiddo to bed, I’d lay in bed, filling various shopping carts at any number of stores with items I didn’t intend to purchase— a new pair of shoes, a new stack of kids books, and a fancy EVOO that keeps popping up on IG. On a crazy day, I may even give them my payment info and make it all the way to checkout for an extra punch of endorphins.
Everything about life in the city felt designed to expedite consumption. I was excited by the idea of consuming more and with greater convenience. New stores popped up around the city that let me collect all my groceries, place them in my bag, and leave without interacting with anybody. Genius! My Whole Foods grocery delivery could be delivered to me for free in under an hour so I could make a fun meal for my family. How was I living before this??
In addition to convenience, I enjoyed seeking out the exact product I needed and having it shipped to me overnight. Did I need it the next day? Sure didn’t. But it felt so good to click purchase and experience the momentary excitement of a package arriving. Only to discover it was just one more item on mounting piles of things that I now had to shuffle away someplace.
I was certain that I was always one purchase away from a fulfilled life—a new vacuum to suck away my woes, copious amounts of pastries to soothe my anxiety, or boujie clothing to cover my insecurities. None of them delivered on their life-changing promises. They did, however, drive me into debt, perpetuate my feeling of lack, and leave me with a lot of unnecessary stuff in my life. Stuff that reminded me of false hope, broken promises, past ambitions, and a false idea of a well-lived life
I wish I could tell you that moving to the country magically cures this disease, but that is definitely not the case. In fact, buying a house felt like I earned a blackout in consumerism bingo. We bought so much stuff in order to start our new simple life in the country. Packages arrived daily to help us adjust to this new laid-back lifestyle. It was peek consumption, not to mention a lot of privilege.
It started to become a problem when the mounting pile of boxes in our garage started leaning precariously when I went to get in the car. We no longer had city waste management system to whisk away our boxes. I was forced to face my consumption in a very tangible way and reckon with a small slice the consequences of my “more is more” mindset.
The list of invisible consequences is long and it is not secret that low-income and communities of color are affected disproportionately by this way of being. I remember staring at the collapsed pile of boxes feeling shame and guilt for wanting so much stuff.
In part 2, I want to get into some of the big questions I have about economics and why we consume the way we do. In part 3, I will share how my shopping and consumption patterns have changed since moving to the country.
How have your consumption habits changed in the past few years? What has helped you change the the ways you think about consumption? Looking forward to continuing the conversation.
Stay curious, be kind, and take care,
Hillarie
Hello, and first of all, thank you so much for your newsletters. They’re always a treat to read. As far as clutter and consumption— I’m probably not alone in having categories in which I do really well (I don’t have many shoes, and I pretty much have a capsule wardrobe, and I always wear the same jewelry), and others in which I do really badly (books, and yarn.). I’m using the public library and trying to read more ebooks, and with my daughter taking up knitting and crochet and teaching her friends (college in Minnesota is cold!), I’m trying to just give yarn away if they like it. As for the books, we have bookshelf space which we have agreed not to expand (my husband is as bad as I am about books), so that helps me set an upper limit. And like others writing here, I’m trying to shop my own home for things instead of buying more. And a one-in = one-out policy. :)
Hi Hillarie - Years ago I shopped myself into bankruptcy trying to buy the perfect life. If only I had those sheets my bedroom would look like the one in the catalogue! After my bankruptcy I bought a house that came with a ninety minute each way commute to a job I didn’t love. That led me to buying lots of fabric for all the beautiful quilts I would make in my (practically nonexistent) free time. Each time I ordered fabric or visited the quilt shop I was so happy! Then the fabric arrived and I put it on a shelf because I didn’t have time to make quilts. Finally, about three years ago, I took a long look at things and decided to give away much of my fabric (and yarn and clothes and…). I have no children, no nieces or nephews, no younger siblings, no one to inherit all of my stuff. It’s really made me think long and hard about new acquisitions.