A surgeon declines a $300,000 per year salary, accepting only $11,000 to avoid the taxation that fills government war coffers. Her conscience further leads her to live in a shack whose total square feet are less than many American bathrooms, using natural resources that enable her to live entirely off-grid. What is her real motivation? How does she do it? Is the payoff worth it?
Accepting the good doctor’s offer to stay in her twelve-by-twelve while she is on sabbatical, acclaimed author and humanitarian William Powers wonders if happiness can be truly found in a single room, without electricity or cars or even indoor plumbing. Perhaps fullness of life is not found in things, he muses, but rather “in the still, the small, the radical present.” What he learned of contentment working in the global aid sector translated well to this experiment of living in a glorified shed, but did not fully prepare him for his surprising Thoreau-like awakening in the woods.
Unplugged from the relentless call of email, facebook and the news, he tunes his ear to hear the discordant symphony of burbling brook, humming bee, sibilant grass, and rediscovers the nuances of his own burdened heart for the world. Essentially, he has stepped out of American culture, with “the planet’s highest rates of divorce, child abuse, addiction, and suicide… a recent Emory University study showed that just 17 percent of Americans were ‘flourishing’ in mental health terms, while 26 were ‘languishing’ in depression (pg. 152)” caused by affluenza: more of everything: “the richer we get, the poorer we feel. To fill the void, we do. (pg. 145)” He concludes that our unsustainable lifestyle robs us of true living, and urges us to, as Jesus says, “Get away with me to a place by yourselves and get some rest.” Rather than filling every moment with activity or things, intersperse idle times throughout your day/week/year, simply “watching the breeze in the trees, idly chatting and joking.” Live well instead of living better.
This treasure will remind us that change does not necessarily begin in our outward environment, but rather from within. Your own Twelve by Twelve may not include a biodiesel car, your own canned produce, solar flashlights and a sun-heated shower stall; instead, it can be your garden, your bedroom prayer nook, a spot on the beach, or even just your “glorious inner acre.” Most assuredly, your personal twelve by twelve does not need to be purchased to reap its rich benefits. William Powers challenges us to dream big dreams of freedom that are smaller and simpler than anything presented in our usual American paradigm, and to release some of the plastic dreams, the “materialism called on like a million barnacles (pg. 153),” and embrace the imperfect realness that is your gracious existence.