One Less Gift

After the multi-month purge of our unused, not needed household belongings I thought for sure we'd be in good shape for the holidays. Yet as I scurried about the house the other night picking up the obscene amount of paper we seem to pile up week-to-week I looked around and suddenly saw at least 100 more things we don't need. Why is that one drawer still so full? Oh right, because I have a dozen versions of a spatula shoved in there.

The poor sagging bookshelves that are way past their prime, weighed down by books that we have no intention of reading again and frankly don't even pass the "hey they are smart, look at the books they have" test that we all pretend we don't do, but totally do.

I have two silver plated beverage buckets that are great for holding beverages at a party for 30. They've been in a box for going on five years now. So either I need to throw more parties or perhaps their peak usage during our 20s has past.

How is it that when I finished my last trip to Goodwill in September, I thought I had checked every corner, given away anything that wasn't necessary. Suddenly, my house once again seems overrun, full of the Crate & Barrel empire I thought I had at least thinned.

This was top of mind when we were asked about Christmas lists. For the first time, we can really say, we don't "need" anything. Seriously, enough with the stuff. We love you and we're sure it (whatever it is) is lovely, but really we'd rather just see you and not have one more thing to dust. Or as DH wisely said, add it to our down payment fund.

I've also been struck by how much we focus on filling up our trees and stockings with gifts for the pleasure of watching each other open them. Even if we know half the items will be abandoned or broken within the next year, we want to make sure we "buy enough."

So here's an idea. What if we each put one beautifully wrapped box under the tree that represented the gift not given to each other. Instead of buying one more toy or pair of cashmere socks, we instead donate that value, whether it's $5 or $100, to a family in need or charity that serves them in your local area. That box could be opened and used as a moment to remember how lucky we all are to have a tree and stockings to open on Christmas morning. Maybe it becomes an annual tradition and you can recall together who the box helped each year.

If we can spend the energy moving an elf from shelf to shelf for an entire month, the effort required to do a little less and help someone a little more is surely worthwhile.

P.S. My brilliant friend Danielle is tackling this same idea through her very cool project TooMuchToDo.

Authentic What?

How much is enough? Do we always need to be making more? And if we do, do we have to consume it or should we give it back? How do you give it back and to whom? What about retirement and savings? Should  we travel more? Prep for kids college funds?

Often the idea of limiting a household's income is framed in the context of traditional major life changes. Buying a house. Having kids. But, what if it was framed as a conscious choice to consume less and give more.

After you purge the belongings you really don't need; eliminate consumption minded spending (or really limit it); create a core plan for savings for rainy days and retirement; anticipate necessary increases in your budget for the future...what about the job choice?

Can you walk away from readily available income because the idea means more? The opportunity to authentically contribute to a real change in the world?

Should the aspiration be to redefine career and life success on our own terms? We've said for years that we make our decisions based on the love of the job and not the money, but it's easy to say that with two stable incomes.

Should our legacy as individuals and a generation be our Pottery Barn decorated houses and our Target filled closets? What if we cut back or walked away entirely? How could we alter the consumption economy?

Our tendencies for societal defined roles is not limited to domestication, we readily embrace a manner and style of consumption based on our station in life. We might feel better about it because it's organic or from lululemon, but it's still just consuming.

Where's the balance? How do we balance? Making money isn't evil, buying beautiful things isn't either. But I feel like it's easy to subscribe to a lifestyle of consumption based on convenience. We specialize in justifying our choices without hesitation.

Over cocktails this is always a favorite topic of conversation and it often comes (in recent years) with a "well, you feel that way now, wait 'till you have kids." Perhaps I'll eat my words some day, but for now we're trying to figure out how to live more authentically with less and what that really means when applied to every aspect of our lives.

So Fresh and So Clean

The ammonia based glass cleaner from our neighborhood co-op is horrible. Our windows and mirrors this summer were a horror of streaks and smears from cleaning them. I think the dog nose prints actually made them cleaner. So I finally caved (even with a half a bottle to go) and picked up the new Nature's Source windex and while I was at it the bathroom cleaner too (it said it fights soap scum).

I am frankly relieved that they both actually work and I am ignoring the bottle of the offending product still under my sink. I have not managed to break up with my Clorox toilet bowl scrubbers. I know the little scrubby uses more product that if I used a brush and cleaner, but swear I still get better results.

The wood floor swiffer is also still in my life. Yes I vacuum my base boards ( I heart my dyson) and try to get up excess before I swiffer, but it sure beats being on my hands and knees cleaning the hardwood every week. I feel like I'm channeling my mother when I'm on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor for extended period of times. Shudder. The issue of course is that each time I use the swiffer on the hardwood, it takes three refill pads to do the whole apartment and probably every other month I have to refill the special hardwood floor cleaner it uses. Lots of wasted non-recyclable product being created. Other hardwood cleaning options welcome.

Focused on Savings

There's been an ongoing debate at our house (not just in my head) over how to save effectively for the future. Not just retirement, but emergencies and futures wants as well. Faced with the pleasant, but somewhat intimidating reality of moving from a "just get it paid off" mode to "hmm, where do we put $$ when you're planning for the next 60 years."

Not shockingly, after reading everything from Dave Ramsey to Mint.com, I wandered back over to my Motley Fool roots and started reading their personal finance materials again. There I rediscovered my confidence to not have to pay someone to manage my money (at least at this point).

The strange side effect of finally digging in and becoming an adult about our finances is that I'm slightly paranoid now about spending money at all. Brilliant you say, but not really. I can talk myself into going out for tex-mex for dinner faster than you can say queso, but I'll put off buying say work shoes because I don't want to spend the money.

I'm also more aware of how much less we could be living on. The statistics about the majority of the country living on or less than $50,000 a year keeps rolling around in my head. In DC you'd have to have two roommates and keep to a strict budget to really make that work for one person, it would be heroic for two.

So I continue to evaluate how to consume less in an effort to save more. But more importantly, I'm realizing living with less is possible.  Things on the savings block as of late:

• broken myself of a serious Crate & Barrel habit.
• cut out my high end spa trips for the occasional nice, but not nearly as swank pedicure.
• stretching a few more weeks between haircuts.
• always checking for coupons online before making an online purchase.
• using what's in the pantry to plan menus (having it overstuffed is pointless)

Not exactly saving the planet here, but it's a start.