The back
lawn was knee-high before the Fourth of July, and the garden hose, which Iíd
snaked out along the grass weeks earlier, was as good as buried. I went down on
all fours, searching with my fingers through clumps of greenery --- darkery, considering it was 10 p.m. A
foolís errand. But then I started thinking in the quiet, and enjoying the
unaccustomed touch of cool ground. Howíd I let things get away from me? Life
did it, or I let life do it. Work, bill-paying, hurried entertainment, everything
had put my little patch of earth behind a Great Wall. Forget the invisible
hose, where was the ladder?

OK, the mood wasnít accidental. My
mind was primed by interviews with local people who are part of a movement ---
or at least a social drift --- called Voluntary Simplicity.

These people, like thousands across
North America, have made a conscious decision to pare down complicated lives,
or take on entirely new ones. Theyíd given up jobs and pursued more hands-on
work aimed at reconnecting with the most basic (it must be said: conservative,
as in ìconservationî) values and routines.

Some of these people havenít yet
made, maybe never will want to make, a big transition from an old life to a new
one. Theyíre happy keeping their careers and outwardly ordinary lives chugging
along, while adjusting things around the edges. In this context, for example, a
decision to get serious about gardening, as opposed to harvesting the
supermarket produce counter, can be significant.

The interviewees --- like the
movement as a whole --- lived with various contradictions. They even solved a
lot of them. But either way, I imagined them in some figurative undergrowth,
asking: Whereís the line between an unencumbered life and an involuntary
condition of poverty? How do real poor people react when they hear about
relatively privileged folks walking this walk? Has the issue of class again
been locked in the closet of American radical individualism? Will any of this
make a difference?

The Earth Native Network, a new local group formed to
explore Voluntary Simplicity, is asking such things of itself.

The group is still small, around a
dozen members, says Mary Gleason, a Network leader and native Rochesterian.
(Fifth generation Rochesterian, she says; her grandfather was George Eastmanís
personal organist). Right now, Gleason says, the members are discussing ìdeep
ecology,î aided by study materials from the groupís de facto parent organization,
the Oregon-based Northwest Earth Institute. The Institute defines deep ecology
with a three-part principle: ìHuman beings are one of many species, everything
is interconnected, and sustainability should replace economic growth as our
long-term goal.î (This form of deep ecology is not to be confused with the
philosophy promoted years ago by macho practitioners of ìmonkeywrenchingî and
ìecotage.î)

But to understand Gleasonís
commitment to simplicity, you have to look at her personal story, her way of
life, her new ambitions. Until around a year ago, Gleason was a public
librarian. She left after 18 years, she says, ìin order to create space that had
more meaning for my life.î

So how does she survive now? ìIím
able to live on very little,î she says, ìand cleaning houses provides my living
expenses.î She adds she looks very carefully at every purchase. That includes
health insurance --- sheís got a bare-bones policy, she says.

Gleason harbors no illusions, or
pretensions, that sheís poor. ìInvoluntary poverty,î she says, is ìvery
debilitating to the human spirit.î

How does Gleason fill up her time?
You might say her days are a search for balance. She says she pursues ìright
livelihoodî in her paid work, as well as in the practice of Vipassana, an Indian
technique that she glosses as ìmindfulness meditation.î She also takes part in
an urban-rural work-sharing project called Genesee Valley Organic Community
Supported Agriculture, which revolves around Wayne Countyís Peacework Farm and
Rochesterís Abundance Cooperative Market.

Otherwise, Gleason is out there
organizing. With others in the Earth Native Network, she brings the message to
church groups, schools, and other venues.

Last academic year, Gleason says,
she taught a Voluntary Simplicity course at the University of Rochester, and
sheís open to doing more of this. But she sounds most enthusiastic about a
project that local Voluntary Simplicity enthusiasts brainstormed at a recent
retreat: the creation of a local ìCenter for Sustainable Living.î The plan is
still vague, but the Center could be built somewhere in Ontario County.

The idea for such a center, says
Gleason, came from a two-week training she and other locals attended at Genesis
Farm in Blairstown, New Jersey. Founded and run by a Roman Catholic community
of Dominican Sisters, Genesis Farm hosts workshops like these to further its
mission --- strengthening ìconnections between the health and sustainability of
the earth itself and the health of human communities as experienced in
particular regions.î

Gleason leads an active life. But does Voluntary
Simplicity come down to what a practitioner avoids
doing? Is it a particular diet or spiritual practice? Is it a retreat from
modernity and technology? Is it, in traditional terms, a lifestyle of renunciation?

These questions run through the
movementís literature, perhaps starting with what some adherents call their
ìbible,î Duane Elginís modest book, Voluntary
Simplicity: Toward a Way of Life That Is Outwardly Simple, Inwardly Rich
(1981, updated 1993). The term ìvoluntary simplicityî is yet older than this,
however; Elgin says he found it in a 1936 book by Richard Gregg, whoíd studied
with Mohandas Gandhi.

In his book, Elgin, a social
scientist who formerly worked at the Stanford Research Institute, defines his
subject as ìharmonious and purposeful livingî --- but he also takes pains to
address ìmisconceptions about the simple life.î

So what is it that Voluntary
Simplicity is not? According to
Elgin:

ï Itís not ìimpoverished living.î
The pointís been made above. But significantly, Elgin, a farmerís son, says he
learned this fact growing up, working in the fields alongside migrant crews.

ï Itís not ìturning away from
progress.î Elgin, a fan of ìappropriate technologyî as defined by Small is Beautiful author E.F.
Schumacher, speaks of ìa balanced approachÖ that harmonizes both inner and
outer development.î Indeed, Voluntary Simplicity and new technologies seem made
for each other. Many advocates of simple living --- including some with a
strong profit motive --- make extensive use of the Internet and
e-communications. And some online resources are comprehensive and very useful,
like ìSeeds of Simplicity,î sponsored by Cornell Universityís Center for
Religion, Ethics, and Social Policy. (See www.seedsofsimplicity.org.)

ï Voluntary Simplicity is not your
parentsí or grandparentsí back-to-the-land movement, though thereís no natural
conflict between the two. Elgin makes the point: ìThe romanticized version of
rural living,î he says, ìdoes not fit the modern reality, as a majority of
persons choosing a life of conscious simplicity do not live in the backwoods or
rural settings; they live in cities and suburbs.î (Indeed, living in more
densely populated areas helps solve one of the simplifierís key concerns:
affordable, accessible, and ecological transportation.) Elgin notes that Henry
David Thoreauís famed cabin at Walden Pond was only a stoneís throw from the
highway, and that Thoreau, no hermit, spent a lot of time in town.

ï The movement is not about ìdenial
of beauty,î says Elgin. He retrieves the aesthetic from modernist theories like
Frank Lloyd Wrightís organic simplicity
--- ìeliminate the superfluous,î blend with the natural environment, and
ìliberate the aesthetic sense by freeing things from artificial surroundings.î

Elgin spends time rooting the
movement in history and social affairs, as well.

Voluntary Simplicity, he says, has
grown out of the Golden Mean (middle path) and Golden Rule of antiquity; the
teachings of early Buddhism, Hinduism, and Taoism; and the example of the
Quakers.

He thanks the Puritans for
bequeathing us the saying, ìUse it up, wear it out, make do, or do without.î
And he approvingly quotes the Transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson --- that a
person ìis rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to
let alone.î

Still, the ecological aspect ---
understood in the broadest terms --- may be the dominant one here.

Elgin compares the ìIndustrial-Era
Viewî and ìEcological-Era Viewî side-by-side. The first view, he says, has
caused a long laundry list of planetary ills, including global warming, the
death of tropical rainforests, and widening economic inequality. The second
view, he says, demands that we counter the ills by living peacefully and
efficiently. And though he advances no hardened political program, Elgin argues
for a global redistribution of wealth.

This comprehensive vision is the
sort of thing that brought activist Hank Stone, a businessperson who lives in
Ionia, into the local movement.

Stone, an environmentalist who
moonlights with the local Peace Network and publishes its newsletter, says he
and some others ìinterested in the survival of the planetî began meeting two
years ago. The brainstorming, he says, led to the more formal structure of the
Earth Native Network.

But what keeps Stone in the loop is
not a particular project or event. He says the big factor for him is, simply,
the people involved. He mentions ìa higher quality of companyî than he expected
to find. The process suits him, too. ìWe donít have a requirement to come to
consensus on anything,î he says. The attraction, he says, is the ìexcellent
opportunity to discuss ideas.î

The simple-living demographic is what youíd expect. Duane Elgin
himself did a study in the late 1970s, when the movement was already well
established, and well publicized in journals like Co-Evolution Quarterly. The findings are given again in the 1993
edition of Elginís book.

Using a base of more than 600
respondents, Elgin found some diversity in occupation (blue- and pink- as well
as white-collar) and geographical distribution (from 42 states, plus Canada,
Australia, and Europe). But he found that ìmost grew up in relatively affluent
homesî and ìnearly all respondents were white.î

Given all that, there are real
differences in the way individual Simplifiers confront the world.

Some are like 19th Ward resident
Paul Arnold, a 40-something Earth Native Network participant who left a
longtime job at RIT two years ago, helped by a small inheritance and a tendency
to cut expenses.

ìThere were things I wanted to do
but didnít have time for,î Arnold says. ìI spend a lot of time keeping healthyÖ
I do yoga and classes at the gym.î On the other side of the ledger, he says he
also does a lot of volunteering with 19th Ward neighborhood groups.

ìI grew up in a family that stressed
the Protestant work ethic,î says Arnold. He adds he may go back to work
somewhere, part-time. He has no children or other dependents, and he owns his
home free and clear. (When he finally paid off his mortgage, friends suggested
he could move to Pittsford. ìI said, Why?î)

But Dori Green, head of the Ash
Grove Community Farm and Center for Sustainable Living near Corning, New York,
is in another boat.

Green, a part-time tech writer and
self-described ìRochester refugee,î has spent 11 years at Ash Grove. She adds
sheís been a ì35-year practitioner of Voluntary Simplicity.î But she describes
a web of complexity, too.

With other Community members, Green
tends the 20-acre farmís extensive organic gardens and otherwise maintains the
land. Community members, says Green, come mostly from the Corning-Elmira area,
but also from Rochester, Syracuse, and many points more distant. The farmhouse
is a living and meeting space, she says, and it contains a 5,000-volume library
on all aspects of sustainable living. (You can take a virtual tour and get
membership information at www.ic.org/agrove.)

But whatever it is, itís not an
idyll.

Right now, says Green, thereís in
fact a threat of foreclosure.

ìIím not convinced,î she says, ìthat
anybody can make a living from an organic farm, at least on the small scale.î
Still, sheís plugged into networks that are making a go of it: For example,
sheís a past board member of NOFA, the Northeast Organic Farming Association, and
sheís got region-wide connections with Community Supported Agriculture groups,
including an educational CSA project called the Robin Van Eyn Center.

Green hopes people will come to Ash
Grove Farm --- and join. ìIím looking for progressive-minded people,î she says.
The rent, she says, is easy at $100 to $300 a month.

But Greenís story is like anti-recruitment in some
ways.

A lot of people who are practicing
Voluntary Simplicity, she says, have seen ìthe handwriting on the wall and want
to learn how to survive in hard times.î You donít have to have a New Age
orientation to be involved, she says. (Actually, she disdains people who just
ìsit on a prayer cushionî while practical help is needed. She says sheís
looking for ìthe people who can wade out into the crud.î)

ìPeople have the idea that anything
associated with Voluntary Simplicity will be free!î Green exclaims. ìNot when
you have a $600 or $700 mortgage!î And there, she says, lies ìthe heart of the
difference between Voluntary Simplicity and things that masquerade as it.î

Yes, some of Greenís comments seem
pretty discouraging. But sheís sticking by her lifelong philosophy.

The Simplifierís life, she says, is
meant ìto define and grow community, and put the ëcultureí back with ëagri.íî
She cites a host of problems that Voluntary Simplicity, at least in its
strongest concentrate, can address --- things like soil depletion and pesticide
contamination, which affect urban as well as rural America.

ìWe donít have to have $25-an-hour
jobs to survive,î says Green. She adds the necessary correlative: The economy
as it exists, she says, runs on (or over) ìan entire army of minimum-wage
slaves.î

Green borrows a redefinition. Real
profit is ìliving with dignity in beautiful surroundings,î she says. ìEveryone
has that right.î