419

 Simplicity

I mention simplicity very often in this autoethnography. For me, it's one of the key values, an essential part of my worldview that allows my sustainability practices to manifest. Other values are, for example, sufficiency, empathy, gentleness, slowness. It's so interesting how simplicity applies to so many various aspects of being. It's how I organise my space. In the picture above is the second bedroom in our new home. It has many functions. My partner's child stays there when she is with us. I have meetings there. My partner plays music there. Guests stay there. Our whole apartment is minimalist. It's so easy to look after. I wear simple clothing that is easy to wash. There is nothing in our home that requires too much attention or extra care. I want to give an example of such thing that takes so much time and that I remember from my childhood. My stepfather and mother used to have a large crystal chandelier. Every few months, they would take it down and ask my brother and I to help them clean it. Every time I did that, I said to myself that when I can make my own decisions, I would never invite into my life that demands so much service. 

I organise my days in a simple way, never overwhelming my days with commitments. I prefer to dive deep into fewer activities rather than overcommit and I don't rank my activities in terms of importance. For example, it is equally important for me to write and to clean. I maintain few connections but they are with the fellow humans I love. Many of my fellow humans notice that I write with very few fellow scholars. I think it's the least stressful way to think together and an easy way to make thinking and writing together feel joyful. 

I try to avoid overcomplicating life for myself and for others. I suppose we naturally gravitate towards certain fellow humans and spaces, and I want to be with the fellow humans I feel good with, and in those spaces where I feel welcome, safe, vibrant. When something feels wrong or excessively difficult (when I know that it should not be so), I say to myself that it's not meant to be. I used to have a very difficult relationship with this phrase. It felt like giving up, but over the years I learned to see wisdom in this approach. I stepped out of some projects and spaces because they felt wrong for various reasons. For example, I resigned from my academic position in Finland because I felt disrespected and exploited. Stepping out of some spaces creates space and frees up so much energy for new unfoldings and beautiful opportunities. 

Over time, I came to the realisation that while capitalism and various structures in society constrain, and they can and do make life more difficult (for example, migration laws), I was also taking part in constraining myself. I did that by saying yes where I should have said no, internalising expectations that didn't feel right, looking for meaning where I knew I would not find any. I don't think that we should normalise, glamourise and romanticise negative experiences and say that they universally contribute to growth. In fact, I am very much opposed to this approach and believe that society should do everything to protect people from suffering. But resigning from my academic position in Finland in the Autumn 2023 made me realise that I could indeed be more agentic, and that being agentic comes with so many benefits. 

418

 Elderflower

It's elderflower season. When I was very young, I was often wondering why flowers were so beautiful but didn't taste particularly good. Over time, I discovered that some do indeed. And elderflower is one of them. I think that many fellow humans make elderflower cordial. Perhaps I will too, but I decided to simply add some to sparkling water. My partner and I went for a walk late in the evening to get some elderflowers here in Copenhagen (there are so many of them!). 

417

Stories

Recently, my partner's father and stepmother visited our home. Both of them are Danish, he is in his 70s and she is in her 80s. He is a former teacher of the German language. She used to teach French. She lived abroad for a while, doing humanitarian projects and studied in Paris. They met when he was in his 30s. They have 5 children, one of whom is their shared child. I love this wonderful elderly couple. They are so bright, so cool to be around. Our political views align, and we can talk endlessly about what is unfolding in the world. 

They were telling us about the 1970s. He says he was very optimistic back then, hoping for a change in the world. Many of the practices that I see as parts of the movements I'm part of (simple living, slow living, zero-waste) existed back then. They recall using beer crates as furniture. These days, the same beer crates are expensive, collectible items. At that time, those beer crates were solid, well-made from wood. Later on, they were replaced by light-weight plastic ones. They remember using flowers to dye clothes naturally, and repairing clothes. I showed them the shirt I repaired recently. What I consider to be a practice of resistance to fast fashion was the norm. We joke about wearing the same outfit every day. She is a dream woman, radiant and vibrant. She is wearing a bright, intense blue sweater and a matching scarf with pattern on it. She doesn't understand why fellow humans need to take part in fast-fashion. He says he owns only 2 shirts. I've noticed he wears a self-imposed uniform (and has done his whole life). She lovingly jokes about his shirts, saying that he has more than 20 of the same ones. It makes me think of my partner's wardrobe, where multiple white t-shirts find their home. 

They are telling us about communes that used to exist back then in the 70s. Then they mention the 80s. Something shifted, but they don't know what. As economists, my partner and I speculate about globalisation and neoliberalisation. But at that moment I'm more interested in their experiences. 

We talk about different paths in life. Recently I said to the two wonderful students who visited us in our home in Copenhagen that at times I want to just be a mother. It feels much more vulnerable and terrifying to say than to say I want a career of some kind. The elderly couple say that there should be a diversity of life paths, and humans should be free to choose their own path. There is an immense pressure on women to at once work, have children, look after our homes. 

They tell us about a family member who ended their studies at the age of 14 and was a smart, good human being. We agree that university education is not the path to success. It doesn't make one smart. 

Again I ask them to write a book about their life. They had wonderful life paths and so many situations where fellow humans could recognise themselves. He speculates that some fellow humans might feel unhappy about some of the stories he would like to tell, and he wouldn't want to tell stories selectively. He said he wrote something down already, and so has she.