Gender in the Simplicity Movement

Lately, I have been focusing on the concept of simplicity. It's not the first time I've gone down this road. It usually happens when I'm deep in the thickets of a semester, the house is out of control, and I'm feeling frazzled. During these times, simplicity is more of a fantasy than a philosophy.

But my recent attention has been more serious. Although I'll never be a true minimalist, I've have become more aggressive as I pare down the possessions in my house. Beyond the clutter, I'm trying to simplify in other ways, too.

But I've noticed something interesting as a I read more about/from this movement. Specifically, I've noticed that there are gender differences. With the men, it's often about having very few possessions, being physically healthy, and living with low expenses so they can follow their dreams. With the women, it's all about spending more quality time with their children and making organic food from scratch.

Granted, some of the male writers from the minimalist movement have children (Leo Babauta has six!), but, with the exception of Joshua Becker, not many well-known men in the simplicity movement seem to talk much about their kids. Even though Baubata has six kids, his blog posts don't focus on them very often.

The dichotomy struck me most when I was reading one of Joshua Field Milbourne's books. I read about "a day in the life of a minimalist"--an example of a "typical day" for Milbourne. One part of his day involved going out to a local cafe for a burrito. In fact, several parts of his day involved meals at restaurants. The rest of his day was spent writing, exercising, or hanging out with friends.

Yet, when I read about the simplicity movement for women, it doesn't always sound so simple, especially when it comes to food. In fact, some times it sounds like the same old backlash again moms. Now, perhaps this isn't really a male/female difference, but a kids/kidless difference. Still, I feel as if I need to be very careful that I'm not being snookered into feeling guilty about being a working mom who doesn't grow her own vegetables, raise her own chickens, and make pizza from scratch. I can't help but raise an eyebrow when simplicity writings for women seem to make dinner time so much more complicated.

All of this said, I've found two voices from this movement that I really like a lot. The first is Kim John Payne (with Lisa M. Ross) in Simplicity Parenting. I thought this book was wise, fairly well researched, and even well written (the latter, perhaps, thanks to Ross?). And Payne even suggests having repetitive, simple meal plans, so I didn't feel as if I was being attacked for imperfect nourishment or some other failing. In fact, from this book, I felt compelled to make changes not from a place of guilt or insufficiency, but merely for a greater chance to embrace the joy of parenting over the worry and guilt of parenting. Also, I truly believe that the actions he recommends will make better, happier lives for my children and for me.

I also really liked Notes from a Blue Bike by Tsh Oxenreider. Although she does want me to prepare local, organic food from scratch, she, for the most part, seems to be encouraging true simplicity and joy--not motherly perfection or guilt. Oxenreider's book is more memoir than instruction, and I was inspired by her stories to make further changes within our home and family.

What about you? Have you noticed gender differences in the voluntary simplicity movement? Do you have any books that have inspired you to simplify your life or increase the space for joy in your family?

(Sidenote: I enjoyed the audiobooks for both books.)

I Want to Spend Time in My Closet

Can I tell you how great my closet it? I cleaned it out a few weeks ago--one of my first decluttering efforts--and it's fantastic. I have cleaned my closet many times in the past, of course, but this time I threw away or donated so much more than in the past. I wasn't totally ruthless, but close to it. I am the kind of person who wears the same clothes all the time, and I alternate between just a few pairs of shoes, so I just don't need that much.

The most significant change is that I got a sweater hanger. For the past ten years, I've been folding and stacking throwing and piling my sweaters on the shelf above the hanging rack. I am only 5' 2", and, therefore, I've spent the last 10 years with a mess of sweaters falling on my head and on the floor whenever I try to get a sweater down from the shelf. Now, the sweaters are in the sweater hanger, and the top shelf of the closet is reserved for storage of photos, mementos, and travel supplies.

The photo below is from the project in process, but it shows my awesome sweater hanger. Now that the project is complete, the floor of the closet has nothing but few pairs of shoes, and the top shelf has the items I mentioned above. The clothes on the right edge of the frame are my husbands. I also have a bureau for socks, skivvies, t-shirts, and tanks, but, otherwise, this is my wardrobe.

The closet is wonderful, and I know that it won't become a disaster again because I got rid of so much. I have finally learned a way I can organize: Have less stuff!

Now I've moved on to the desk in the study.

To Scrivener or Not to Scrivener

About a year and a half ago, I bought my first Mac, and the first program I installed was Scrivener. Three friends (Amstr, Rachael, and Cleared for Flight) had raved about the program, and, being mid-stream in my PhD thesis, I figured I needed all the help I could get.

I spent last spring drafting a thesis chapter on Scrivener, and I recognized the benefits. Multiple times, I moved sections around, changing my mind about the order of the different sections. Scrivener made it easy to make those changes.

But now, for the past 10 months, I've been working on the same damn chapter, and I've had a terrible time. Although I don't want to blame Scrivener (or my use of it) for all of my woes and ineptitudes, I am throwing a little blame its way.

Here's the problem as I'm starting to understand it: Scrivener breaks my chapters up into chunks or subtopics, and, therefore, I tend to only think of the chapter in chunks or subtopics. As a result, I've had a harder time identifying the central argument of the chapter--the thread that will hold it all together.

This past weekend, the family gave me a one-night hotel pass, so I had many uninterrupted hours of work. This, in itself, was gloriously helpful, but I think what really led to a breakthrough was when I got out of Scrivener and started working in Word, when I started thinking about the chapter (and reading the chapter) as a unified thing. Granted, I had compiled my Scrivener files into Word plenty of times before, but then I kept going back into Scrivener to attempt further progress.

My conclusion? I need to write in Word. But this does not mean Scrivener won't be helpful. This weekend when I was writing in Word, I was mining from my Scrivener files, and I discovered how Scrivener might best work for me: it should be a holding and organizing place for my notes and research.

Maybe this is how everyone else is already using Scrivener. Maybe I was just doing it wrong from the get go. But I'm glad to have clarity as I move forward. As for actually writing up my chapters in Scrivener? I prefer not to.

The Silver Lining of Leprechaun Traps

My daughter's only homework this week is to design and build a leprechaun trap. My first thought was, Gah. Not this again. It is due Friday, and she'll be working on it Monday-Thursday. One of her big wishes for the project is that she can build it with me. There are impediments to her wish. She is with other people M-Th afternoons (dad or grandma), and in the evenings when we all get home, I'm usually working on dinner. I do pick her up on Fridays from school, but she will have already turned it in by then.

I let her know that I could help her on some of the evenings, but that other people would have to help her, too. But last night, in my efforts to honor her wish, I left the dishes sitting on the countertops after dinner so that she and I could sit down together to consider the project (it was very difficult for me to ignore those dishes). It started with me just giving her moral support while she colored some of the designs on the trap panels. But then, she announced that she wanted to make a bean bag for the leprechaun to sit in when he fell into the trap. My first thought was Really? We have to make a bean bag now?

But earlier in the evening, she had also expressed a desire to work on a sewing project together sometime soon. So, regarding the bean bag, I said, "We could sew it if you want to."

Now, sometimes, I say things like this, and they turn into such time-consuming, poorly-planned ordeals that we have to bail on the whole shebang. But last night, we easily cut out some circles, and she sewed them together. She was thrilled by the transformation that happened when we turned the sewed circles right side out, exposing her nice (and somewhat circular) seams. Then, we stuffed the little bean bag with quinoa, and she stitched it closed. The project was done, bedtime wasn't too late, and I still had the kitchen cleaned by 9:30. I couldn't believe that we managed two fulfill two of her wishes: doing a sewing project and working on the leprechaun trap. It all felt so purposeful. But the best part was how proud she was of her little project. Seeing her touch and handle the bean bag, marveling that she made it, gave me great joy.

If it sounds like I'm patting myself on the back, that's because I am. I so rarely manage to accomplish something like this without it either devolving into something stressful and/or being left unfinished. And there were no tears from either of us! But mostly I'm just grateful that the dreaded school project actually turned into something valuable for us*.

*Granted, the trap isn't finished yet, so things could get bad, but I'm going to try to maintain optimism, basking in the glow of our first efforts.