Irishman Mark Boyle tried to live life with no income, no bank balance and no spending. Here’s how he finds it:
"If someone told me seven years ago, in my final year of a business and economics degree, that I’d now be living without money, I’d have probably choked on my microwaved ready meal. The plan back then was to get a ‘good’ job, make as much money as possible, and buy the stuff that would show society I was successful.
For a while I did it – I had a fantastic job managing a big organic food company; had myself a yacht on the harbour. If it hadn’t been for the chance purchase of a video called Gandhi, I’d still be doing it today. Instead, for the last fifteen months, I haven’t spent or received a single penny. Zilch.
The change in life path came one evening on the yacht whilst philosophising with a friend over a glass of merlot. Whilst I had been significantly influenced by the Mahatma’s quote “be the change you want to see in the world”, I had no idea what that change was up until then. We began talking about all major issues in the world – environmental destruction, resource wars, factory farms, sweatshop labour – and wondering which of these we would be best devoting our time to. Not that we felt we could make any difference, being two small drops in a highly polluted ocean.
But that evening I had a realisation. These issues weren’t as unrelated as I had previously thought – they had a common root cause. I believe the fact that we no longer see the direct repercussions our purchases have on the people, environment and animals they affect is the factor that unites these problems.
The degrees of separation between the consumer and the consumed have increased so much that it now means we’re completely unaware of the levels of destruction and suffering embodied in the ‘stuff’ we buy.
Very few people actually want to cause suffering to others; most just don’t have any idea that they directly are. The tool that has enabled this separation is money, especially in its globalised format.
Take this for an example: if we grew our own food, we wouldn’t waste a third of it as we do today.
If we made our own tables and chairs, we wouldn’t throw them out the moment we changed the interior décor.
If we had to clean our own drinking water, we probably wouldn’t shit in it.
So to be the change I wanted to see in the world, it unfortunately meant I was going to have to give up money, which I decided to do for a year initially. So I made a list of the basics I’d need to survive. I adore food, so it was at the top. There are four legs to the food-for-free table: foraging wild food, growing your own, bartering and using waste grub, of which there far too much.
On my first day I fed 150 people a three course meal with waste and foraged food. Most of the year I ate my own crops though and waste only made up about five per cent my diet. I cooked outside – rain or shine – on a rocket stove.
Next up was shelter. So I got myself a caravan from Freecycle, parked it on an organic farm I was volunteering with, and kitted it out to be off the electricity grid. I’d use wood I either coppiced or scavenged to heat my humble abode in a wood burner made from an old gas bottle, and I had a compost loo to make ‘humanure’ for my veggies.
I bathed in a river, and for toothpaste I used washed up cuttlefish bone with wild fennel seeds, an oddity for a vegan. For loo roll I’d relieve the local newsagents of its papers (I once wiped my arse with a story about myself); it wasn’t double quilted but it quickly became normal. To get around I had a bike and trailer, and the 55 km commute to the city doubled up as my gym subscription. For lighting I’d use beeswax candles.
Many people label me an anti-capitalist. Whilst I do believe capitalism is fundamentally flawed, requiring infinite growth on a finite planet, I am not anti anything. I am pro-nature, pro-community and pro-happiness. And that’s the thing I don’t get – if all this consumerism and environmental destruction brought happiness, it would make some sense. But all the key indicators of unhappiness – depression, crime, mental illness, obesity, suicide and so on are on the increase. More money it seems, does not equate to more happiness.
Ironically, I have found this year to be the happiest of my life. I’ve more friends in my community than ever, I haven’t been ill since I began, and I’ve never been fitter. I’ve found that friendship, not money, is real security. That most western poverty is spiritual. And that independence is really interdependence.
Could we all live like this tomorrow? No. It would be a catastrophe, we are too addicted to both it and cheap energy, and have managed to build an entire global infrastructure around the abundance of both. But if we devolved decision making and re-localised down to communities of no larger than 150 people, then why not? For over 90 per cent of our time on this planet, a period when we lived much more ecologically, we lived without money. Now we are the only species to use it, probably because we are the species most out of touch with nature.
People now often ask me what is missing compared to my old world of lucre and business. Stress. Traffic-jams. Bank statements. Utility bills. Oh yeah, and the odd pint of organic ale with my mates down the local.”
Even when you fuck up."
— Jeff Foster (via 1he-art)
I am gonna study Jesus. I want to learn everything I can about Him. People have got mixed feelings about the man, but I respect Him and look up to Him. In my mind, he was one Holy, awesome, loving, liberal-ish hippie guy. He loved EVERYONE. So why did/do so many people claim to hate Him? Time to study up!
I totally super duper really want to WWOOF. I know it will be such an eye-opening opportunity that I’ll look back on decades down the road. I just have to figure out where to WWOOF. There seem to be so many awesome people and farms out there, it’s hard to pick one first!
Anyone fellow WWOOFers want to share their experience(s) with me?
— Unknown (via zeppelin-child)
quit my job.
Smoking cigarettes, and I don’t know why;
'Cuz I don't want to stop, but I don't want to die.
I’ve always been a dreamer, for as long as I can remember. I’ve always had ambitions, and believed that anything that I worked for, I could achieve. Now, after 19 years of this philosophy, I am still a believer; but what has changed is that I don’t reach for my dreams. Instead I sit still, expecting it all to come to me. It’s hard, when you get older.
No, it’s not hard- we make it hard. I’ve made it hard for myself to follow my dreams. Instead of doing what I love, I’m doing what I can tolerate. I’m working a job in retail, living under my mother’s roof, spending most of my time in a box. I sleep in a box, I eat in a box, I work in a box. It’s the matrix. We become so used to this box, so well-acquainted with it, that we never want to leave it. It becomes our safety, our security blanket. Even though we believe in Gods, this box becomes one of them.
I’m ready to get out of my box. I’m ready to be an explorer of the world.
- “You are perfect, made of nothing but light.
Even when you fuck up.”— Jeff Foster (via 1he-art)
- Anonymous said:My mom said something like, "wool just comes from giving sheep a hair cut. What's so bad about that?" I'm a vegan and I couldn't answer that. I guess I'm a dietary vegan. Your opinion?
it’s just like the dairy and egg industry: we are fed lies about this “happy” and “nice” way of doing things. oh no, we just nicely milk the cows in...