In the East of Finland, on the very borders of Russia, we found a group of people living a life of simplicity. Each one of them lived somewhat differently than the next, but each one had carefully considered how they wanted to live and why. Moreover, they did not simply think on the matter, but practiced their considerations every day, in every way. These were inspiring people.
We stayed with Dennis, who is a bit of a hardcore dude, one of the more ascetic people in that group of friends. For one week Oliver and I experienced life in Dennis's shoes: living on the second floor of an old, drafty Finnish farmhouse, without running water, electricity or plumbing. We cooked foods that were seasonally available (a lot of barley and beetroot), and learned to make bread from rye and the bark of pine trees. We did not shower, but instead were invited to sauna at a new person's house each night. It seems the small community had gotten wind of our arrival, and everyone and their mother wanted to meet us.
At first, when I saw that we would be using a bucket as a toilet, I admit I was quite scared. But slowly the fear melted away, and by the second or third day, it did not matter in the slightest. There was too much else to think about, too many more important things to hold in my mind.
When I say important, maybe instead I should say magical. Because, when I stripped back the superfluities of my life, back to bare bones, I realized that all other additions were luxuries - things to be actively appreciated. I had a roof overhead, a cosy sleeping bag, a fireplace with firewood, a lot of hearty winter food, fresh spring water drawn from the wells... These were my bare necessities. And these being met, and having no other pressing worries (as it was quite simple to live this way), I was now able to choose what I wanted to focus on, what to add, and how to spend my time; just as if I were building my life upon a sturdy foundation, brick by golden brick. So, I added those things that give me joy: people and laughter; those things that give me purpose: art and story telling; and those things that feed my soul: books and music and good food.
My list will look different from another person's list, but it that is not what matters. Nor does it matter whether or not a person is using plumbing - I will not advocate that anyone follows Dennis's path unless they feel it is their own to take. What matters is that we put our lives into consideration, carefully choosing what we think is essential and important and magical.
I learned so much in Finland, about what I want in life, and what it is to be alive.
