Mutuality Through Moderation
When you've settled into restrictions, into moderation, you no longer feel deprived. There is no chase for you to race in. A life lived with less means more chances for generosity.
Do you believe there is actually enough for everyone to live a decent life?
Can our planet support the basic needs of every human living on it?
Can we share this world with every species and not just our own?
Some people recognize that not everyone on this planet can live their life. Giant noisy trucks that guzzle gas, frequent international trips, other people cleaning their house, going out to eat, fast fashion hauls, the newest latest high tech gadget, state violence aimed at other people. Illusions of safety and security.
Anything you could want to consume, as long as you produce or own in a way that gives you surplus money. Or you at least believe that life is within your grasp.
Many of these people prefer their version of freedom. And they think they earned it or they will. Even if the life they live harms others and the planet. Even if the life they live harms themselves and their loved ones.
Some of us were given a chance at that kind of life and trained to want it. We were told and shown that a fulfilling life is one consumed with stuff and experiences and accomplishments that set us apart. A bucket list we can check off as if we are more evolved for waiting in line to take a picture in someone else's home or sacred land. Staging our own solitude. A bank account and assets that constantly grow, with no limit in sight. An idea that if you can do and see it all, you can run from the loneliness of existence. You can fill yourself up just like your gas tank and closet and sight seeing agenda.
Some of us chose limitations, even if it didn't arrive as a choice. We picked our mortal limitations and the planet's. We choose to recognize and respect vulnerability. A fulfilling life through constraint and commitment, to the land and interdependence. At some point, we realized money could never purchase true security. The flooding and fires and fascism would still find us, it was only a matter of time. And so we did our best to opt out and find something else to opt in to.
There is a freedom in recognizing true needs. That you must eat, but don't need the fanciest meal with ingredients shipped from all over the world and someone else to clear your plate. That you must drink and clean water is the most priceless, precious beverage. That you must breath and we all share the air. That you must have companionship, but you don't need everyone to like or agree with you. You don't need sex or a romantic relationship to feel connected or fulfilled, it's a bonus in this life. That you need clothes, but your own hands can make them or find them secondhand. That you need a place to rest your bodymind, even if you can only build that inside of yourself.
When you've settled into restrictions, into moderation, you no longer feel deprived. There is no chase for you to race in. A life lived with less means more chances for generosity. You could say that only means more chances for being manipulated or used or defrauded, but a gift economy that lifts everyone up is our only chance at a true tangible freedom. A freedom where anyone could leave a bad situation and find a better one. Where none of us accept violence, from each other or the state. Where violence is rare enough that we can find grace for our mistakes.
Your sacrifices can become a guarantee for another being's survival. And you can learn in your bones that their survival is your own.