The joy of getting nothing for Christmas
This Christmas was very special. It was the first time when my loved ones honoured my gentle request to avoid inviting things into my life. For myself, I got a bar of soap that was made here in Denmark. During pregnancy, I've become even more sensitive to scents. This soap bar is unscented. Some fellow humans say to me that soap bars don't last as long because they melt in the shower. It was my experience too, but I keep soap bars outside the shower, though very close to it so I can reach it, on a small plate that my partner inherited from his grandparents (together with many similar plates of different sizes) - this is not a dedicated soap dish. In our bathroom, we have a window that I often open to keep moisture out of this tiny space, and the soap dries too. In England, the bathroom I used most often didn't have any windows, so I would keep the soap bar in the bedroom.
We celebrated Christmas with my partner's family and his ex partner. It was a cosy evening, part of which I spent in a quiet, safe space that one of our family members (whose home we were in) prepared for me. I stayed there because I still feel dizzy often. So many different thoughts were running through my mind when I was there. The children received many gifts. I didn't watch them unwrap the gifts, but I came to the realisation that fellow humans buy those gifts not because they want to destroy nature or serve capitalism, but because they want children to be happy. They want to see kids experience joy as they open those presents. And yet, there are so many other ways to make children happy that don't involve consumption of stuff. I was thinking about my own childhood. I don't remember any of the gifts I received. I'm sure they were selected and bought with love, but in the end of the day, all of it was things that I probably didn't need, that I could live happily without. And even if destruction of nature is absolutely not the motive behind buying stuff, in so many cases those items are not good for nature. Are they even good for the children?
On Boxing Day, we visited my beautiful stepmother-in-law and her husband, my partner's father. My stepmother-in-law was telling me about their Christmas tree and the decorations on it. She's had some of them since her childhood (she is in her 80s now). She was also telling me about the clothes she was wearing. Those items were more than 10 years old.
We were talking about my practice of extreme minimalism. "You write, in your book, that this is a more sustainable mode of living. But I can't live this way. When we were young, we didn't have much. So I learned to keep things for a long time. I keep many of them just in case they become useful one day. If I need something, I don't want to run to my neighbours. They might not even be home!" says my father-in-law. It was humbling to hear his reflections. I told him what I usually tell my students when I reflect on extreme minimalism and sustainability. It's just one way to live differently. It's not the way. Some fellow humans prefer to live in eco-communities, others co-live, yet others want to be self-sufficient. There is a great diversity of alternative lifestyles. Extreme minimalism works for me, but it doesn't work for everyone. And if I need to borrow something, I would certainly try to borrow from my neighbours first. If not, then from my father-in-law!