David Michael Bruno

Why? Summarizing the 100 Thing Challenge... again

Back in June, I summarized the 100 Thing Challenge. That was a few days after Time Magazine wrote about it and only a few weeks before things really started getting crazy. Now, months later, the 100 Thing Challenge has made it into newspapers and radio programs internationally. And I have an agreement with Harper to write a book about it. But what the blazes is the 100 Thing Challenge?

At its core, the 100 Thing Challenge is my attempt to challenge consumerism. I worry that the predominant narrative of our culture is the story of stuff. I worry that has been the main story of my life. It feels like a worn out tale, and I'd like to stop the plot before it gets any more dismal.

But consumerism is like a magical book. Once you start turning the pages, you cannot stop. (Remember that cursed book Ron Weasley told Harry about that you cannot stop reading once you start? Consumerism is like that.) So the 100 Thing Challenge is my (perhaps silly) way of jerking my nose out of the book. I am ready for a new narrative.

I do believe that for anyone caught in a dysfunctional situation, the first step is to mentally assent to the problem. As you can tell by reading this blog, quite a few people do not think that consumerism is a major problem. I disagree. The second thing people need to do to correct a dysfunctional situation is physically act. In the case of consumerism, my own personal feeling is that all of us who are caught up in the dysfunction of consumerism need to make our first action reducing our stuff. We just need to get away from the paralysis of being stuck in stuff. Granted, the 100 Thing Challenge is a bit radical. Hopefully it makes a point - we need to radically reduce our desire for and dependence on stuff.

What do I personally hope to get out of this project? Well, you'll just have to read the book. Ha ha.

But for now, I'll let you know that in addition to starting the 100 Thing Challenge in a couple of weeks, I am also in the midst of a major life and entrepreneurial realignment. I'm on a little journey to not only get away from consumerism, but also on an effort to live and work in such a way that is neither desirous of nor dependent on our consumer culture. Phew! More on that soon.

Just some random thoughts on the 100 Thing Challenge as we close in on November 12th.

In the last week I've gotten rid of my Marklin trains and most of my woodworking tools and some weights and a few other things, too. And perhaps because I've felt a bit drained by the effort required to downsize, the thought has crossed my mind, "What on earth am I doing this for?!" I certainly have no intention to attempt to answer that question at the moment.

Last weekend I avoided another question when one of my neighbors asked why on earth I was getting rid of all my tools at our garage sale. I made up some answer like, "Well, I don't really use them much and I want to make room in the garage." Then it occurred to me, standing there with my neighbors, that tens of thousands of people around the world know about the 100 Thing Challenge, but my neighbors two doors down don't. And I didn't tell them! I like these neighbors. And I didn't tell them about the 100 Thing Challenge.

In the last few weeks I've started writing poetry again. Mostly about suburbia. I've written three songs that I used to sing on my guitar, which is now sold. Two of the songs were about being in the city. A lot of my poetry is about being in suburbia. Likely I will not share much of it here on the blog. First, sharing poetry is more vulnerable than telling neighbors life details. Second, most of the time I want to write a poem, but I end up having to write down the poem that wants me to write it. And for whatever reason, a lot of my poems are kind of sad. There would be too much wasted psychoanalytic effort responding to my poems if I shared them here.

You really should pick up Wendell Berry's small book Another Turn of the Crank. One essay in particular, "The Conservation of Nature and the Preservation of Humanity," is simply brilliant and nearly brought me to tears.

I am thinking of creating a Facebook event for the kick off of the 100 Thing Challenge. In fact, I'm going to do it right now. Please join the party! And invite your friends. (Just don't send any presents!!)

The Art of Joel Sheesley

A month or more ago I noticed the back cover of the most recent Wheaton Alumni magazine in our bathroom. It featured the art of Joel Sheesley. For weeks I have meant to sit down at the computer and look him up, the two paintings shown on the magazine back cover were both beautiful and intriguing.

Wow. I am glad to have taken the time tonight to browse through his work. And I hope to some day get up close to the real thing.

When I was at Wheaton doing my MA, I wanted to study how the growth of suburbia affected religion (and how religion might have affected suburban growth). There is good literature in this area. It had not occcurred to me at the time that there might also valuable modern art to consider.

I would hate to suggest that Sheesley's art can be narrowed down to a reaction to suburbanization, yet obviously it is an (the?) important theme.

Consider this a strong encouragement to spend some of your time browsing Sheesley's Web site.

P.S. I've not spent as much time with John Walford's work, also a Wheaton art professor. His Flickr photos, though, are appealing to me.

Don't Pass Up Grief

I am fond of M. Scott Peck's two books The Road Less Traveled and People of the Lie. One thing Peck says in The Road Less Traveled that seems true is that all of our neuroses are the result of us trying to avoid legitimate suffering. When we flee from the trials and pains that are a normal (and necessary) part of life, we run ourselves into anxiety and obsession.

Today I came across a similar message while reading Paul Hawken's The Ecology of Commerce. Hawken is quoting from the text of a commencement address:

Gordon Sherman, the founder of Midas Muffler, once wrote: 'There is a teasing irony: we spend our lives evading our own redemption. And this is naturally so because something in us knows that to be fully human we must experience pain and loss. Therefore, we are at ceaseless effort to elude this high cost, whatever the price, until at last it overtakes us. And then in spite of ourselves we do realize our humanity. We are put in worthier possession of our souls. Then we look back and know that even our grief contained our blessing.

We so often pass up grief. We skip right over it, as if it were only a oily puddle on some dingy urban street. All we've really done is jump further into the grime, deeper into a run-down neighborhood of our own making. We need to get our shoes wet and slimy, grab a mop and clean things up. There's no denying it will be ugly work.

The sadness of this truth is seen in this: so many people "agree" to it with smiles on their faces. "My father was a dud," they'll say with a smile. "Sure I've made poor choices in the past," they'll say with a smile. "There was nothing I could do," they'll say with a smile. "I hold out hope for him," they'll say with a smile. Skip. Jump. Skip. Jump.

But call out to those people, "Hey, what the hell are you doing going into that shady neighborhood?!" And they'll shout back with smiles on their faces, "We're moving on!"

I appreciate Gordon Sherman's optimism that grief will finally overtake us. I do believe that is true, though in my short life I have watched many people skip and jump at great speed deeper into the neighborhood of pain and suffering, futher away from their pursuer, grief. And for some of them grief is no longer in sight. Of course at any time they could stop, turn around, and hunt their pursuer. But I don't know many who will risk that course.

Defining Consumerism #1

In recent days I have been spending my lunch breaks with the Oxford English Dictionary. It is a lovely set of tomes. Terribly confusing at times, but delightful to hold and page through.

The OED defines consumerism this way:

1. Protection of the consumer's interest
2. Name given to a doctrine advocating a continual increase in the consumption of goods as a basis for a sound economy

The word consume comes from the Latin con - altogether + sumere - to take up, lay hold of, etc. The idea is to "to take up completely" (the thing consumed no longer exists, it is "destroyed" or "devoured" by the consumer).

And this leads to the OED's definition of consumer:

1. He who or that which consumes, wastes, squanders, or destroys

Of course the meaning of consumer has shifted in the English language. Now the word simply connotes a person who buys something. Today the word consumer no longer carries the stigma of a vice.

Yet much of what we casually consume (i.e. buy) we actually consume (i.e. destroy). I am particularly convicted by the coffee cups I have destroyed the last two days atPeet's Coffee while doing research. The cups are not recyclable and so I quite literally "consume" them by my use. Many products are like this. Many products are consumed (destroyed) when used.

Interestingly the word product/produce comes from the Latin pro - forth + ducere - to lead. The idea is that to produce something is "to lead or bring forth" something. A product is literally a creation, a making of something. This is not all just wordplay. These definitions are helpful.

It is entirely valid to understand our modern economic system as one that produces (creates) things to consume (destroy).