Yeoman

When friends ask me how he is doing, I’m always so thankful I can reply with resounding words like “great!”  I like to think it’s his time now to spend as he pleases; he did a valiant job in the role of a family man.  I don’t remember fathers in my generation as workaholics or traveling excessively.  It always felt like my dad was around for everything:  Home for dinner, home on the weekends, home for the science fair, for trick-or-treating, home to lead Cub Scouts, to lead confirmation classes, home for it all.  It never, ever looked like my mom had to do it alone.

 

Back then life wasn’t about luxuries.  Mom stayed home in traditional form; we were a one paycheck family when two paycheck families were something to be talked about. I don’t know if she loved it, maybe she wanted more for herself?  But if she did, her hopes and dreams weren’t uttered within earshot of her children. We heard phrases like “making ends meet,” but I never viewed this as a deliberate choice to forego a second income in favor of time dedicated to tending to the family; it just was.

 

I see my generation in the present, all caught up in big houses, exotic vacations, the latest electronics and assorted trappings, and it feels like it’s still about making ends meet, yet in such a different way. If we’re not careful we become slaves to our stuff, running on the treadmill of competition, never having enough to quite cover the elevated standard of living we feel pressured to maintain.

 

I admit, my value system in part may be derived from the time in history I was raised; I’m pretty certain the colloquial definition of “disposable income” didn’t exist in the 70s. Today, in first world countries, many of us are fortunate to have the means to acquire a college degree and other support needed to access freedom of choice.  We’re educated, with the capacity to make good money, yet this also comes tethered to the expectation that we’ll go out and do just that. Society baits us with extravagance, almost shaming us into amassing all the booty we can, just because we can.

But what if you want something different?  Isn’t there a degree of peace that comes with living small, knowing you can easily cover your expenses, free with the knowledge you don’t need to pour everything you’ve got into making a living and instead can spend time enjoying your living?

If you asked me to describe precisely how my values were instilled in me, I don’t know if I could find words to explain. They are indigenous to the unique culture my parents fostered for our family. Just last evening I asked a friend who trains people for a living if she believes we can train on culture.  Sure, she said, it can be done to create awareness, but culture needs to be modeled if it’s going to stick.

 

I don’t need much, and for this I am grateful to my parents. As Lynda Barry once said, “The key to eternal happiness is low overhead and no debt.” Maybe I was destined to be raised this way in order to feed my artistic soul.  I’ve seen it written more than once that living small gives creatives the ultimate freedom to pursue their less-than-lucrative dreams.

It feels like my dad knows this too, as he was somehow able to be there for us all those years ago when he was the breadwinner, and is now enjoying a comfortable and active retirement.  When I think about the life I’ve built for my own kids, I hope in all of our affluence I’ve somehow managed to infuse in them the aptitude to find abundance in very little.  I’m incubating not one, but two creative forces with the power to change the world.  I want them to be free to do just that.