Once upon a time, Richard and I had two actual incomes (well, okay, we had his consulting income and my freelance writing income, which is more like one and a third actual incomes). We weren't wealthy by any means, just comfortable enough to not have to worry, a very fortunate place to be.

Nor were we spendthrift–at least not measured against Americans' general rates of consumption: we didn't accumulate debt building our moderate-size home, we always paid our credit card bills in full at the end of each month, and we owned our vehicles, of which there weren't many. We didn't buy a lot of stuff–we still have no television, for instance, although between the two of us, we do own three laptop computers.

Frontyard
Where did our money go? Savings, mostly to a very personal investment: purchasing the half-block of formerly decaying industrial property where we now live and building our passive-solar house on the pay-as-you-go-plan, plus restoring the adjacent block of degraded urban creek and the native dryland meadow yard… (That's our front yard in the photo above.) We also contributed generously to organizations we thought were making the world a better place.

"Once upon a time" is no longer. Richard followed his heart from economics to sculpture, and then came the cancer years, beginning with the "beautiful carcinoma" discovered in his bladder in April, 2008, and the even scarier journey with brain tumors beginning in Fall, 2009. I kept busy with freelance writing until after his first brain surgery, when caregiving began to take up more of my time and creative energy. After the second brain surgery this past August, and my mother's diagnosis with Alzheimer's disease a month or so later followed by her entry into hospice care at home, earning an income fell to last place in my to-do list. 

So as our household income has contracted rather dramatically–and no, I'm not whining here, that's just life–we've been drawing on our savings. And learning to live on less. A lot less.

Kitchengarden
Unlike a lot of folks, we're lucky. We own our house, along with the raised-bed kitchen garden that  provides our veggies and fruits in season. (That's the kitchen garden above.) We've got savings. And we're finding it's not as hard as we thought it would be to learn how to be frugal. Frugality is different for everyone, because we all value different things. Still, here are some basic tips for learning to live with less:

1. Don't let your stuff define or own you. Stuff is expensive in all sorts of ways. The less stuff you have, the less you spend on it and the less money you need to earn. For instance, we don't have a television, so we're not pestered by commercials that remind us of what consumer goods we lack. When I want to be entertained, I read a book. Or take a walk, or work in the garden, or cook something, often with food we've grown ourselves–all cheap to free pursuits.

2. Keep your housing costs affordable. Downsize or right-size to save money and time: the smaller your housing payment, the more financial freedom you have. We knew our income was not dependable, so we invested our money in purchasing this property and building our house, rather than getting a mortgage. It took us six years to get to the point we could move in and the interior still isn't finished, but oddly, that's not what visitors notice: they ogle the gorgeous views, the built-in sculptural touches, the art on the walls…

3. Be energy-efficient. Our house was designed to be cheap to keep: It's heated largely by the sun in winter and cooled by down-valley breezes in summer, which means essentially no heating or cooling bills. As a bonus, the expanses of glass that admit winter sunshine for heat also connect us visually to the out-of-doors, a source of emotional and spiritual nourishment.

4. Do your inner work: Find and follow your bliss. When things got tough with Richard's brain cancer, I realized that I could either care for him or make more money writing. Hmm. That wasn't a hard choice. If you're happy with who you are and what you're doing in life, how much money you have is much less important. Beyond the essentials, how much money do you really need? Not as much as you think, I bet.

5. Be generous. Share what you do have, whether that's time, talent, love, or even money. You'll feel immensely richer for it. We certainly do.

17 Comments

  1. Susan, what a beautiful, down-to-earth, logical, common sense post. :) Thank you for sharing this.

  2. Lindy, Thank you for appreciating this post. It’s definitely hard-won wisdom, but very freeing to learn it by experience.

  3. There’s grace in knowing what is enough in all aspects of life: a goal of mine that I have not reached, although I endeavor in that direction pretty constantly.

  4. Susan, thank you for this. We own our home–mortgage free, but the heating is still expensive, and I still buy all our food at the market and use a lot of gas trotting around.As for stuff, I’m ready to downsize on that. You make a lot of good points in this article. Cause me to look at my own life and future in this valley.

  5. There is a grace in knowing what’s enough in life, and thanks for saying it so beautifully, Deb! I think we never actually reach that grace because it’s about balance, and balance shifts as conditions shift. The one thing that’s constant in life is change…
    Maria, I think our culture makes mindless accumulation easy, and before we know it, we’re mired in stuff and the effort it takes to support it. It’s interesting to me that many of us undergo spiritual and physical cleansings regularly, but we forget to cleanse our lives and the places we live as well. I think that’s at least as important.

  6. I’m struck, tickled, by the paradox of the closing tip: Get by with less by being generous. I suspicion it’s an aspect of my own life I’ll be perpetually re-learning.
    Aye, the differences between needs and wants; and traveling the distance between the latter toward the former!
    Again, the paradox: Have more by having less.

  7. And as Annie Oakley sings in “Annie Get Your Gun”…. “Got no diamond, got no pearl, still I think I’m a lucky girl. I’ve got the sun in the morning and the moon at night.”

  8. It’s not necessarily a paradox, Eduardo, since being generous doesn’t require money or things. It’s a matter of having generosity of spirit: give a smile when someone doesn’t expect it; stop to say hi even when you’re busy; listen to someone who needs to talk; give the gift of your time and talent where it is needed… We’re all rich, really, just not necessarily in the material plane!

  9. Blanche, thanks for that smile! Such an appropriate lyric–those are the real riches, all right…

  10. I am passing along a link from the most recent Garden Rant – http://www.mahoneysgarden.com/blog/visiting-walden-pond-winter
    I think that a visual trip to Walden can help us learn how to live for less – check out the cabin interior. It is the simple things in life that can draw us deeper into the core of what really matters.
    Peace and happiness in the new year…

  11. It *is* the simple things in life that matter, Mark, and thanks for the link to the blog post w/ lovely photos of Walden Pond and the reproduction of Thoreau’s cabin. Thoreau’s writing is an inspiration, although his life wasn’t exactly as self-sufficient as that simple space implies: he ate most days at Emerson’s house (no need for cooking facilities!) and his family took care of his laundry and other domestic chores. Most of us don’t have that luxury…

  12. Susan, Your statement about your home and what people notice is so telling:
    “the interior still isn’t finished, but oddly, that’s not what visitors notice: they ogle the gorgeous views, the built-in sculptural touches, the art on the walls…”
    You and Richard have a life formed by the choices deliberately made, rather than fallen into. Now, as together you walk through the challenges life is presenting, your connections to your earth, home, family are firm. May they continue to give you strength.
    Rita

  13. Rita, Thank you for understanding, and for that beautiful wish. I am indeed grounded, and blessed to have such strong connections to place/earth, home, and family. They do continue to give me strength–and I value that immensely.

  14. Wise and wonderful words, Susan.
    I am forever grateful for your generosity of friendship, support and spirit.

  15. Susan G-T, you’re most welcome. I hope that the lessons you learned about living on less continue to inform and enlighten your life as you walk on from here! (And that things are easier as well…)

  16. Wonderful suggestions. We have always lived simply and saved. When my husband was laid off and out of work for almost two years we were able to live comfortably. We do own a TV but it’s an old one that we seldom watch. Our cars are paid for. We have no credit card debt. Like you, we continued to give as generously as we were able even with our income reduced by two-thirds.
    Your kitchen garden is beautiful!

  17. Thanks, Ginny! It sounds like you could teach others how to live simply. I think the key is not feeling impoverished, but finding ones “riches” in that which doesn’t require money. For some people, that’s hard, perhaps because our culture tends to define our success by our material accumulations. Those of us who’ve learned (or are learning) how to define ourselves in other ways have leg up on living simply.

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