my first k.i.s.s post {Mama Nomad}

In America, practically every necessity, and a whole lot more, is at our fingertips--the turn of a knob, the flick of a switch, the touch of a button. Water, electricity, gas, even cable television is piped or wired into every home, and is the bottom-line standard. Even our poorest population is much wealthier than the average citizens of other developing countries. If there were homes within a city's boundaries with a outdoor restroom, a water pump, wood cook stove, and lights-by-candle, the occupants would be pitied and the landlord would be prosecuted. If we wanted to, even on the most minimum income, we could drive to a store or fast food restaurant for every meal and never have to cook.

If their is one word to describe what we've become, its this: soft.

The only thing we really have to work for is the money to provide us with what are mostly luxuries. I am not anti-luxury, don't get me wrong! I am by nature a pretty sedentary person who thrives on a daily dose of Seinfeld. Our family enjoys sailing, traveling, gourmet foods and wine, boutique shopping (well, at least, that is my weakness)...and not 5 years ago these were things we indulged in weekly, if not daily. But as the economy has degraded and retail business has taken a dive, we have been scaling back, scaling back, and scaling back some more. Honestly, I feel grateful for this turn of events; I am proud of what our family has accomplished and know that maybe the only way for Americans to be able to release the sweaty grip on their remote controls and credit cards its to be forced into it. Lately, I feel...less soft.

We aren't looking for a completely different life, like...today. I enjoy and appreciate modern conveniences. I just want to know that if the electricity goes out, I can cook our meals and heat our home. If food became unavailable, I would have enough stored away to feed my family--and not just canned beans and power bars, but good, wholesome meals, of grains and legumes, lacto-fermented veggies, and fresh produce, eggs and chickens from our backyard. If water didn't flow freely from our pipes, we could harvest it from other sources. If oil became scarce, we could find alternative ways to fuel our vehicle, or learn to not use it at all. If outside entertainment were to disappear, we would have enough books and knitting skills to keep our minds and hands occupied. If retail became a thing of the past, I could clothe my family. If I got pregnant, and their was no health care systems in place, I could with a reasonable amount of confidence, give birth to my child at home. If society went bananas, my family would be protected. If, if, if...!

I don't believe these scenarios are inevitable; the future unfolds itself in many unpredictable ways. But thinking about them reminds me of how far we've come from...in good ways, yes, but many not-so-good ones. I want to make the gap between self-sufficiency and American-economic dependance smaller every day. I want to be prepared, and better myself as person at the same time, by identifying my strengths and examining my weaknesses. Our softened lives do not demand we look at ourselves in the mirror, we are too distracted by all the other shiny things; if nothing else at all, we should at least make that choice to really take a good look at our habits and their (buzzword of the year alert!) sustainability.

A life of self-sufficiency is hard work, so what makes it simple? Nothing seems more simple than only having to press that button, turn that knob, and flick that switch to satisfy your needs and wants, right? Alas, that is a short-sighted thought process. In reality every switch is wired to a massive system, that requires multiple levels of authority to produce and maintain. When I think of "living simply", I think of the energy that my family and I put forth, and having that effort benefit us in the most direct way, minus any unnecessary middleman. For example, we build a garden, we plant the seeds, we tend the soil and pick the weeds, and finally the food is laid on the table and we eat--without the mass operation, without the shipping and receiving, the labeling and packaging, stocking and checking. To branch out, I can share my efforts with my neighbor, and my neighbor can share their efforts with me. The process from start to finish, concentrates our efforts and is the simplest thing of all. And doesn't that make the food, and life, taste that much sweeter?

*******
So, my name is Leah, and others may know me as Mama Nomad--I like to do very housewife-y things like cook, decorate, garden, home-school my kids, and watch the Price Is Right. I live on a 1/2 acre in SE Portland with Papa Nomad, who owns Nomad Piercing Studio and Tribal Art Museum. Our three kids are Mayan, the 6 1/2 year-old artist and entrepreneur; Isadore, the 4 1/2 year-old fashionista, egg-gatherer, and part-time kitty-ninja; and Baby George, the one-year-old pile of sweetness and blond curls. You can request access to my blog, Milk and Ink: From the Lap of Mama Nomad, by emailing me through thekissbloggers@gmail.com.