Voluntary Simplicity

By Niki Sullivan

Originally published by News Tribune (Tacoma, WA), July 29, 2007

Lauree and Logan Dillard exchanged vows last summer on a cliff overlooking the Wisconsin River.

Her white strapless dress was elegant, and her ring was exactly what she wanted. Their pictures show a couple glowing with happiness.

But when the Dillards, who have lived in Tacoma since starting school at the University of Puget Sound in 1999, planned their wedding — typically one of the most expensive and commercialized events in a couple’s life — they eschewed many of the usual trappings.

They were married in a state park, which, in addition to offering an unforgettable view, was free. The reception wasn’t catered: Instead, they asked friends and family members to bring specific dishes. They decided merengues made by a family member sounded tastier than a wedding cake.

And Lauree’s ring had no diamond.

“I had somebody not really believe that Logan was serious because I didn’t have a diamond,” Lauree said of their engagement. But she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Without a diamond, there was no guilt of buying a stone mined by a child. Without a diamond, there was no exorbitant expense, so they could save the money for something that meant more to them.

And without a diamond, Lauree and Logan, both 26, could show that material things don’t make the marriage.

But there’s more to the Dillards’ modest wedding than a young couple trying to save money. The pared-down ceremony was a statement of deeply held values.

As part of a growing movement called Voluntary Simplicity, the Dillards focus more on experiences and people and less on things in order to lead a happier life. And there’s proof that it works.

At 28 years old, Henry David Thoreau built himself a small home outside of town on Walden Pond. He’d left home seeking a simpler life away from the fast lane.

That was in July 1845.

He documented his two years, two months and two days of adventure in “Walden,” a book that has not gone out of print since it was first published and now is available in just about every language.

Humans have long struggled with where the line is between enough and too much.

The Northwest is known across the country for being particularly laid-back. But a slightly slower fast lane doesn’t make Cascadia exempt from personal reflection.

On the contrary, the high level of environmental consciousness combined with things such as high costs of living, high poverty and a high number of high-paying high-tech jobs make the Northwest a particularly good place to question whether a life lived more simply might be a happier one.

Chris Martin remembers a postcard she saw one day. It said, “Live simply so others can simply live.” “It stuck with me for 30 years,” the Tacoma 50-something said. She reduced, reused and recycled. She invited graduate students and AmeriCorps volunteers into her home for very low rent. She never bought a new car: Instead, she looked for dependable, gas-conserving vehicles.

While working in Cuba to reform their school curriculum, she witnessed and lived a kind of involuntary simplicity — brought about by food rations and a lower standard of living.

She learned how to do more with less and came to appreciate both Cuban culture and the privilege of living in the U.S.

When she returned to the states, she had a new perspective on her needs versus her wants.

So when she heard of a discussion program at the Tahoma Unitarian Universalist Congregation about Voluntary Simplicity, she joined. The course, offered by the Portland-based Northwest Earth Institute, isn’t taught by anyone. Instead, groups read selections of a workbook and take turns leading a discussion each week.

One week, she cataloged all the food in her pantry and where it came from. During another, she tried to find out where all her clothes were made. She also thought about how she spends her money and what that says about her.

“I’m trying to be conscientious. Am I doing things or buying things that may be taking away from others?” she said.

For Martin, the course was as affirming as it was educational.

She was already doing a lot to live simply, she said, but “it was a powerful group. People’s sincere interest brought up challenging concepts.”

She started to consider, for example, whether her central Tacoma home with multiple bedrooms was too much.

“I don’t need all of this space. I didn’t even have enough stuff to fill it,” she said. So she decided to sell her home and will move to a smaller home closer to work.

She said it’s easy to seek comfort in material things, like a nice home, but being mindful of her consumption is more rewarding.

She calls it “being in the thick of life.”

Those who practice Voluntary Simplicity do it for many reasons. Some consider it part of their religious or spiritual beliefs, others hope to lessen the environmental damage they’re responsible for, and some seek emotional and physical health.

But, as the Dillards point out, it’s not always so easy.

“Sometimes doing the more simple thing doesn’t seem as simple,” Lauree said. Her handmade wedding invitations were a production. Unprocessed foods can require more labor to prepare. Taking the bus takes time.

Don’t even mention gardening.

In addition to sometimes increased labor, those who choose to live more simply often have to swim against a strong current of material culture. Trends, advertisements and celebrity worship give the impression that more is better. In short, materialism dictates that if you can have something that you want, you should.

Emerging research suggests differently.

In a recently released study comparing 200 people who practice Voluntary Simplicity to 200 mainstream Americans, the former group were much happier and more satisfied with life.

Tim Kasser, the associate psychology professor from Knox College in Illinois who conducted the study, told The New York Times that simple-livers were also more likely to be careful about spending their money, which could translate to increased financial security.

Why? Perhaps, as Logan suggests, it goes back to the line from the movie “Fight Club”: “The things you own end up owning you.”

Eleanor Schulze lived in a Fox Island home she literally designed herself, from the indoor pool to the steam room to the cook’s kitchen.

Then she divorced, hit 50 and took a good look at herself.

“I just wasn’t happy,” she said. Now, “I’m a completely different person.”

She left the house for a small, older home she rents from friends, who live next door. They garden, have chickens for eggs and share everything.

“I’m much happier,” she said. At 50-something, her vivacious demeanor, small sparkle of a nose ring and rosy cheeks seem to concur.

And she’s not shy about sharing it with the students she teaches in high school science class. Even with the pressure of fitting in and having new, cool stuff, her students respond well.

“My kids come in and say, ‘Look, I got this for 75 cents at Goodwill!’”

Voluntary Simplicity isn’t just for those who like a good bargain or are just downright cheap. The Dillards may be the best example of this. They own plenty of things: A flat-screen monitor, a car, a bread machine and, now, a home.

But they make their purchases carefully, based on their values.

The bread machine is for making their own bread several times a week. They know it costs 70 cents and five minutes of their time to make a loaf.

The monitor is for watching movies — they don’t have a TV. The home they just bought is a fixer-upper in Seattle’s Rainier Valley, just four minutes from Logan’s new job at Amazon.

“We go through decision making slowly. It makes you appreciate what you have more,” Lauree said. “We comment all the time about the things we appreciate.”

In other words, they live simply yet comfortably — and not in such a way that it’s painfully obvious.

“I went through a phase in high school where I saw a big evil in consumer culture and advertising. I wanted to rebel,” Lauree said.

“But that’s just as bad as accepting them all.”

What is the Northwest Earth Institute?

NWEI was started in 1993 when Dick Roy quit his 23-year career as a corporate lawyer at the Portland office of Stoel Rives to join his wife, Joanne, as a full-time volunteer.

With a grant and a volunteer force, their goal was to bring environmentally centered programs into “mainstream” workplaces. In the first year they offered a discussion course on Deep Ecology, 97 groups participated.

As word spread, more groups completed the course and participants started asking for more. Soon, they developed the “Voluntary Simplicity” workbook. They now have programs on sustainable living, healthy children and globalization, among other things.

The programs are offered nationwide and have been in 900 communities in all 50 states, according to the Web site. By last count, 80,000 people have enrolled in their discussion courses.

They’ve also been featured on the PBS documentaries “Affluenza” and “Escape from Affluenza.”

For more information, visit www.nwei.org. The Puget Sound NWEI Web site is at www.nweipugetsound.org.