I’ve been thinking about two ideas this week:
“Do the work in front of you” and “Have a low overhead.”
Sometimes you don’t want to do the work in front of you. For example, I have this blog. And mostly I don’t write in it. I get lazy. Also, my first few entries were how-to entries, and that was a bad precedent. I can’t generate lots of financial how-tos because I don’t have a lot of financial how-to knowledge. Most of the time, I’m not living with money. Most of the time, I’m improvising because I have none.
Sometimes, too, you don’t recognize the work in front of you. I’ve done a lot of complaining about job-searching lately. And two of the people I complained to would probably have offered me a job, if I’d asked them. In both cases, I realized that thirty seconds after complaining. And then I felt foolish.
The second phrase was a piece of advice to would-be writers. I forget who said it. It’s good advice. Writing won’t make you rich. Writing might not pay you at all – this blog, for example – so you should make sure you can do the least amount of joe-work possible and still cover your expenses.
My overhead is extremely low. It could get lower if I started living in a tent and dumpster-dove for food, but I don’t want to do that. This is as low as I go.
(Or nearly. I’m going to try foraging for dandelion leaves this afternoon. I’ve heard they’re tasty.)
I read a book last year about someone who did the things I don’t want to do. His name’s Mark Boyle. His book is called The Moneyless Man
This is a radical decision. But it’s also both of the ideas I started with. Mark’s got a low overhead. He’s got the lowest overhead. He does the work in front of him. He trades labour on an organic farm for food and a place to put his camper. He forages for food. And he participates in networks that teach skills.
He’s better at both these things than I am. But I think they’re a kind of yoga. Recognizing what needs to be done and living simply are two things we have to work at. We get better with practice.
I hope.