Clicking Through Life

Personal Finance (PF) blogs fascinate me. The ones I read regularly, all written by women, tackle on a small and daily level the multitude of ways one can live more cost-effectively and conscientiously in our consumerist society.

(I am not a PF blogger for lots of reasons, including that I could not stick to one topic if I tried. My writing is more akin to walking on the beach: I write about whatever flotsam and jetsam I come across.)

An event that often pops up in the PF world is the "no-spend" event, be it a day, week, or month. A no-spend whatever means exactly that: do not spend money. On a monthly scale, it means setting a specific level of spending (not counting housing and utilities) to cover whatever crosses the threshold for the month - gas, food, entertainment, clothing, gifts - and sticking to that amount. A number of PF bloggers have also joined "the compact," a San Francisco based movement whose members agree not to buy new products of any kind for a one-year period (most after setting out certain personalized exemptions).

No-spend events are fun to watch from the peanut gallery and that is exactly where I intend to stay. While I have many no-spend days in any given month, I doubt I'd do well with an "official" no-spend event for the same reason that I avoid any diet involving counting calories - my mind doesn't work that way. Set me a daily caloric limit and I will find five ways to amortize a Snickers bar into the calorie count. I have a feeling I'd approach a no-spend event with the same spirit.

Some PFers appear to pull off these events effortlessly. They write of being energized by the creative ways in which they feed their families, have fun outings, decorate their homes, and give to their favorite charitable causes, all without spending. Others admit to weariness at times - of hitting the frugal wall, so to speak. Sometimes creativity wanes when faced with beans and rice for the fifth night in a row or the whiny child who wants "just one little candy bar, mom! Just one!"

Sometimes the bloggers' efforts recall the words of poet Langston Hughes:

It's such a bore
Being always poor.

The bloggers I read are not poor, but at times their self-imposed limitations weigh them down as if they were.

One of my favorite bloggers, Sharon at "Musings of a Midlife Mom," recently tried a no-spend June. Last night she wrote of spending above and beyond her goal, then said:

I haven't added everything up yet, but I can tell you I don't regret any of the purchases I made today. I needed it. Yes, that's right, I needed it...I needed to do something fun, and in this case, it cost some money.

I've reached my goal of paying for a lake house this month. I sent the last check on the 15th. So, I've decided to officially end my No Spend month today, after only three weeks. Not that I'm going to go into a spending frenzy on the last week, I simply can't because there aren't enough funds in my checking account to do that. But the stress of worrying about going over a certain amount has taken it's toll.

What came to mind reading Sharon was Jane O'Reilly's essays about clicks and clunks in the feminist movement.

O'Reilly, a founder of Ms. magazine, is the essayist who identified the click, that moment in a woman's life when she was radicalized by experiencing gender inequality. Several years later, she wrote a follow up essay in which she talked about being tired, of being tired of doing it all, and of being afraid that being tired meant she wasn't a feminist. Those were clunks. After recalling that clicks were "engaging and stimulating and tend to strengthen," clunks were when one "got unreasonably dispirited and embarrassed by minor failures."

After chewing on the problem, O'Reilly concluded that the antidote for clunks included imagination and laughter.

I agree. I think Sharon would also agree; her sense of humor is one of the reasons I enjoy her blog. Certainly from what I can read, she is not letting her early termination of her no-spend experiment dampen her life.

Life is full of clicks and clunks, and not just in the feminist movement. Clicks are energizing, regardless of where and when they occur. Often they are the laughter-filled moments that dispel the clunks. The small moments I celebrate are clicks of the first order of magnitude.

That is a good thing, because my life has a few clunks in it. Right now my garden has a couple of clunks posing as pepper plants in it. The car transmission is making clunking sounds, and that could be a major clunk. This coming week will be unusually busy and it is too early to tell whether that will be a click or a clunk, or both.

But the tomatoes are blossoming, we just finished a great week with Warren's daughter, and the fireflies are back.

Click, click, click.