I’ve ben thinking a lot these days about our impact in the world. It’s heavily inspired by “Ducks, Newburyport,” which if you are up for dense, delicious, thought provoking and relevant reading is EXCELLENT. And I’ve been thinking a lot about the fact that I’m turning thirty in a few weeks. You never know how you are going to show up for these big milestone birthdays in your life, but I’ve never had big expectations of what turning thirty would be like. In fact, I always assumed that it would be just like turning any other age, that I would pass the day with minimal social celebration and lots of life reflection. Truthfully, that is probably exactly how I am going to spend the actual day. But what’s different is that turning thirty does actually feel like a milestone. Unexpectedly.
But the purpose of writing all this down is that I’ve developed the urge to do something to mark this new decade (horrendously stereotypical I know, but it still has gripped me and I am going to shamelessly give in). Something to acknowledge my impact on the world more fully. To better live in alignment with my values around less waste, mindful living, reducing capitalism, and finding more joy. And so my challenge to myself is to buy no more than three things per month. This dos not include food, hygiene items, basic cleaning supplies, or items required for dance performances (ie: nylons or zippers for costumes).
There is no price delineation.
Just three things.
Hopefully three beautiful, carefully chosen, well made, thoughtful things. But if I make a mistake and buy something that doesn’t fit into that category – tough love lady, it still counts as one of my three things.
Once the decision was made, it seemed down right silly to wait until I was actually thirty to start. And so February is the first month where I am holding myself to considering what I purchase with much greater care than ever before in my life.
My first purchase was pencils. I’m not kidding. There are these amazing cedar pencils that we used to buy from the loveliest store in Portland, Oregon. The stash my mother supplied me with a couple of years ago has dwindled down to only one or two, and the idea of not having them has been nagging at the back of my brain for months now. And so I bought I pencils. Beautiful, carefully chosen, well made, thoughtful pencils. They feel like the perfect first.