Finding joy in simple living
By Bethany Feske
I've never considered myself to be the type of person who hands out advice without it being solicited. Yet I feel compelled to offer my latest reflections on a topic that has crossed my mind on numerous occasions: the excess that pervades our lives as American college students.
A few weeks ago I went on an immersion trip to Duran, Ecuador. This experience allowed me to witness many things and meet people with life experiences very different from my own. The trip taught me this: value the simple life. The people I encountered in Duran have very few material possessions. They live in homes the size of an American garage, they wear clothes that most of us would donate to Goodwill, and they make a can of tuna stretch to feed a family of five. But what they lack in amenities, many of which we consider necessities, they make up for in fostering a human condition of substance.
On any given day in Duran I could walk down the street from the retreat house that 12 other Santa Clara affiliates and I called home during our stay and do one of several things: I could play a game of checkers with Freddy, get advice about how to raise a family from Gabriel, or play soccer with the children in the neighborhood -- all of whom would brighten my day simply by smiling and being themselves.
There is much to be said for making time to be present to each other as the people in Duran were present to me. Living in a tight-knit neighborhood community, the people of Duran live a life of simplicity and value.
I often wonder how as college students, we can walk around campus having detailed conversations on our cell phones, and fail to notice a friend that needs someone to ask how his or her day is. Similarly, I wonder if we spent less time filling our closet with the latest fashion trends, would we commit more time to molding our character? Would anyone go hungry if restaurants served reasonable portions in one sitting rather than tossing all the leftovers in the back dumpster? Would we feel a void in our lives if we didn't commit to being a part of every committee, extracurricular activity, and resume building opportunity that presented itself? Would college be compromised if students decided to drink in a manner that didn't necessitate hospitalization? We, as citizens of a nation that boasts 5 percent of the world's population while consuming 20 percent of the world's resources, are engrossed in excess.
We carry the weight of meaningless things and often possess an insatiable appetite for things of fleeting consequence. This detracts from our ability to be the advocates of social justice that Santa Clara wants us to be. How are we to strive for global solidarity if we aren't willing to admit that our opulent lifestyle is over-the top? I too am guilty of indulging in some of the examples I've offered. I suggest that we make a conscious effort to differentiate needs from wants. In doing so we will be able to return to the basics and find joy in a lifestyle concerned with that which matters most: relationships, our intellectual pursuits, a healthy disposition, and a greater respect for the reality that the majority of the world survives with a fraction of the comforts we are afforded.
Living simply is our refuge from the drowning weight of excess, even when we don't realize we're sinking.
Bethany Feske is a senior history major.