Chuck The Impulses!

We all have impulses to engage in non-necessary behavior. Most of the time, those impulses have a negative impact on our daily lives.

Impulsive behavior is animalistic, rooted in the lizard-like portion of our brains, the fight-or-flight part of the gray matter.

Most of the impulse behavior in modern society is learned from our environment. This statement may seem oxymoronic, but it is true. We learn to impulse buy from commercials, from our peers, from garish, in-your-face marketing that makes us feel inadequate if we do not have the latest and greatest whatever-it-is. We learn impulsive behaviors towards others outside our peer group, usually negative ("Look at that fucking hipster!" "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that" "How can they live THERE?" etc.) almost by osmosis, as a type of camouflage, or as a coping mechanism.

What we are really doing when we act on impulse is ignoring the human part of our brain, the part that requires us to intake and then process data, examine the data, and then make a decision based on the extrapolation of the best (or worst) possible outcomes. When we act impulsively, we deny our very humanity and excuse ourselves from the thought processes that make us unique as a species.

We also lose something when we act impulsively: time. We lose the time it takes to think, we lose the time it takes to formulate an appropriate response to a situation, and we lose the time it takes to analyze the results of our decision making process.

When we speak impulsively, we lose the time it takes to form coherent and unique statements. When we eat impulsively, we lose the time to appreciate the nourishment we're receiving (we often wolf down those impulse meals, don't we?). When we buy impulsively, we lose the time it takes to make informed financial decisions, and end up with a bunch of shit that we don't use or want for the most part. When we react to social situations impulsively, we lose the time it takes to make a good impression, the time it takes for other people to judge you (or to judge others, and if you say you don't judge other people, you're full of shit.)

When we chuck the impulse to act impulsively (convoluted but accurate), we allow ourselves to become more human.

We are allowing ourselves mental breathing room.

We are allowing ourselves to be self-defining instead of letting our impulse behaviors define us.

We gain more control over our immediate environment, our thoughts, our actions and others' perceptions of us.

We leave the realm of the split second  and enter the realm of time well spent.

Impulsive behavior is automatic behavior. Do you want to be an automaton?

Chuck the impulses.

Chuck The Gadgets!

This post may seem hypocritical, and it is. There is an alarming prevalence of hardware (and software) intended to make our lives easier and give us more free time. From the moment our ancestors learned to make fire, our tools have defined and improved us.

Today, the amount of free time we have attained through the use of our magnificent tools is astounding. Alas, we use that time to use our tools even more.

Witness the overbearing presence of cellphones - people text instead of talking, use apps to show where they've been and where they're going, to play individual or multi-user games, all disconnected physically from each other.

I've seen people in the same room text each other. I've seen people interrupt a face to face conversation to indulge themselves in texting. I've seen a room full of people not interact with each other because they were too busy interacting with their smart phones.

Folks, these are alarming developments. The incredible technology at our very fingertips has been (mostly) trivialized and co-opted for so-called entertainment purposes.

I am not denying the power inherent in the technology, nor do I deny that a lot of good comes from it. I simply implore you to put the tech down and interact with the real world.

Let's build campfires and tell stories by their glow. Let's have dinner with our phones off. Let's take our children outside and entertain them with the wonders of nature. Play board games. Ride a bike. Write a letter on a piece of paper and mail it to a loved one. Walk around your neighborhood and meet your neighbors. Grow food and eat it. Use hand tools instead of power tools. Go camping. Get away from the city lights and learn where the stars are, wonder at their beauty, and share that knowledge with your children. Draw pictures on paper. Create a social network in the real world - hang out with your friends! When you want to talk to someone, go to their house, sit at their kitchen table and fellowship in the old fashioned way. Help your community by volunteering. Don't donate money to charity - BE charity by feeding the hungry, helping the sick, and passing on your knowledge to others. Act in a play. Write a novel. Fly a kite. Walk your dog.

Do ANYTHING besides play with technology.

Chuck the Shitty Friends!

Sometime last year, I had a revelation concerning my quest to Chuck the Shit! I realized that I had a lot of friends who didn't really care about me. I started examining my interactions with them. Did they hang out with me just to hang out? I soon discovered that most of my "friends" were people who needed something from me besides companionship. Whether a hot meal, a place to sleep, money, booze, or whatever, I was extremely disappointed to find out that "they" only needed me when they "needed" me. The solution? Stop giving them what they wanted. Soon enough, the true friends floated to the surface. I found my life to be much simpler and much less aggravating. Since my revelation, I have made new friends that truly care about me and want nothing from me. I have formed deeper bonds with the old friends who weren't mooching shit off me. I value my friends more than ever now. So don't be afraid to Chuck the Shitty Friends! They might learn something about themselves and you definitely will learn something about yourself - what your "emotional currency" is worth to others.

In the beginning...

In June of 2006, a catastrophic flood forced my family and I to relocate. We lost almost everything due to water and mold damage. After we re-settled, I began to notice the house filling up with shit. Useless, unncessary, unused, unwanted, dust collecting, space hogging shit. Whenever we saw something we liked, we bought it. It was like a knee-jerk reaction to losing everything - suddenly, there were places to put these things that we didn't want, need, or use. So we did. I finally reached my breaking point about a year ago and decided that I was going to start changing the way that I consumed everything. I began to work in earnest on my book, The Necessitarian Manifesto, which originally began as a joke. I realized that I was losing touch with the important things in life and becoming swallowed up by the politics of want. I finished the book and began to try to live by the tenets set forth in it. I began by eliminating all of the clothes that I never wore. I got rid of 60+ articles of clothing (the first time!). I started finding people who needed the things I didn't want and when they asked me "How much?" inevitably the answer was "Free." I started paying attention to my triggers for buying - for me, super cool tech toys or musical instruments - and started ignoring my consumer impulses. I started growing a garden (this year will be the third year!). I gave away drum sets, bikes, tools, clothes, TV's, beds, blankets, more tools, video games, books - name it. My wife stopped me from giving away our van. The more things that I got rid of, the more full my life felt. I started having more dinner parties at my house, spending more time outside, riding my bike, walking, talking to my family, playing with my pets, and generally living instead of just being alive. I've never really cared too much for material goods at all - I've always thought of myself as someone who isn't impacted by marketing, commercialism, etc. Once I began to chuck my shit, I realized that as little as I subscribed to the gospel of consumerism, I still was an adherent - perhaps a semi-lapsed one, but still a supplicant. In a lot of ways, I'm still a consumer of non-necessities, but I have decreased my acquisitions dramatically. I build a lot of the things that I need now, and before I purchase anything, I ask myself if I really need it. If I don't need it, I usually don't get it. The Necessitarian philosophy has begun to creep into every aspect of my life - from how I handle my friends to how I landscape! Stay tuned...