Tell Me What You Want, What You Really, Really Want

An outcome of Zeroscaping your life is the blank canvas.

You get to choose the paints you use next. You get to decide what comes back into your life.

When I was an undergraduate, during my first year living on campus instead of commuting to a community college, my friend and I rented one side of a duplex.

It was close, but actually about six blocks from the campus.

It was a pit.

Roach-infested. Old plumbing. Horrible carpet. Horrible smells. Holes in the floor covered over with the cheap carpet. Old, barely working appliances and plumbing.

But it was inexpensive.

The semester ended, and my friend was heading to our hometown the next day. I was going to work a few days longer, then head out.

The last night my friend was there, he decided we should use up everything in the house.

He lit some candles above a dining room hutch.

The hutch was the one piece of furniture the landlord had in there besides an old-school diner table and chairs.

My buddy had been storing a whole semester’s worth of Wall Street Journal newspapers on that hutch.

About 100 newspapers, if you can imagine.

Fast-forward six hours …

I woke up about 6:30 a.m. and saw a bright orange and yellow glow coming from the kitchen.

That’s odd. I better go check on what that is.

I looked to the left around the corner of the doorway and saw the newspapers were all on fire on top of the hutch!!

It seems the candle wax had dripped down onto them and caught fire.

We barely had time to get some clothes on, not even shoes, and get the heck out of there.

The smoke started billowing, black and thick, all through the house.

It took less than 3–5 minutes.

We stood outside the back door for a bit, not sure what to do (pre-cell phones).

Then I remembered there was a lady and her son living on the other side of the duplex.

I ran over and banged on their front door to alert them that the house was on fire.

They got out in time, too.

We backed our cars away from the house.

And then…

BOOM!

The fire hit the gas line and set off an explosion. All the windows shattered at once.

Black and gray smoke came streaming out of the house.

It was more smoke than I have ever seen in my life.

Everything I owned at that time was in there.

I had spent probably $10,000 on furniture, clothing, music, and a stereo.

And it was all in there.

All gone.

The good news was that I got to start over from the beginning.

Luckily, I was covered under my parents’ homeowners insurance.

I think I ended up getting $8,000 for replacements. That basically got me new clothes.

Then I had one of the best years of my life that next year.

It was awesome.

I guess I internalized an important lesson from that FIRE experience (pun intended).

Now, Physical items are rarely something I want.

Sure, I sometimes see things I want. But it is rare.

It’s all just stuff.

And as soon as you buy it, it’s pretty much worthless.

That’s now the way I feel about most digital distractions, too.

Crap. Worthless. Manipulative junk.

Discernment. That’s what you’re after with Zeroscaping.

You learn to cut through the cultural conditioning and illusions that propagandists’ feeds are always trying to sell you.

And I don’t mean “awareness” advertising. That’s fine.

I mean the lifestyle allure advertisers are always trying to portray.

Oooh, look what your life will be like if you had this product!

Yeah, we’re not buying it anymore …

Are we?

Oh jeez. I probably fall for it all the time.

But I rarely act on it.

Lately, I am trying to sink into gratitude and acceptance once again.

But, I get off course from time to time and get wrapped up in “if only…” thinking.

And most recently, that has been about where I live.

As I wrote about last month, I probably have an “expiration date” for how long I can be in one place, and particularly my house in the PNW.

It’s great as an artist’s retreat for a couple of months

But then it’s just too isolating.

Just last Friday, I had the opportunity to go see a concert. I was all set to go.

Then the day arrived, and I got a bad case of the “I don’t wanna’s.”

So I didn’t.

Did I really want to go?

Yes and no.

I am sure I would have enjoyed the show.

I am sure there would have been some cool experiences.

But I am on a no-drinking kick, and I like having a few drinks when I go to a concert.

They go together so well.

That was one objection I could have overcome, though.

No, the real kicker was that it might have been a six-hour round-trip commute.

I kid you not.

The fastest I could have done it is four hours.*

And the show was 45 minutes, at least the part I wanted to see.

This got me to thinking:

“Oh, I should just break down and get an apartment in the hip part of the city.”

Really?

You miss one concert opportunity and you’re ready to shell out $15,000 or more per year?

What the heck, dude?

Ever hear of a hotel room?

And you are already testing an apartment in a different city.

Do you really want two?

Yes, I might … but not because of missing one concert opportunity.

It is the trend that matters

I’m just sharing this as an example of how ridiculous the mind and our internal dialogue can be sometimes.

We are more easily sold on things when we fall into deprivation traps.

These can be set for us by advertising messages.

But we can also set them for ourselves.

Let’s try not to do that.

Alirght, that;s a wrap.

these last few articles have described a bit more about the Zeroscaping part of this process.

Tomorrow, we’ll start discussing the next step of the Highway to Yeah process.

What makes you happy, and what do you really want?

Zeroscaping, if you do it, will give you a blank canvas to paint the life of your dreams on.

*P.S.

I attended a similar concert last night that was about 30 minutes closer.

I spent 4.5 hours on the roundtrip commute.

That’s a lot.

Plus, I had three non-alcoholic beers and still had a blast.

That was great.