About three years now, we are living in a survival mode and many, here in the rural countryside of Portugal, with us. No, we're not threatened by bullets nor are we of any interest to some secret service agency or are we being prosecuted for our political ideas. Survival mode means grasping any opportunity to finance the modern day must have's like electricity, internet, the luxury of a car and all costs that come with it. Avoiding hospital and doctor visits, fighting the temptations of cultural gatherings, party's and events outside the comfort zone of our monthly fuel budget, go to the supermarket with a full flexitarian stomach, restricted by a well thought out shopping list.
Being in survival mode means fixing, the according to others unfixable, things yourself. It means gratefully accept any gift offered and sharing the given with others who are excepting it for the same reasons. It means an automatic stimulation of creativity and an opportunity recognizing view on abandoned items left by those more fortunate. It means entering that, sometimes even beautiful, subculture of a well known, born out of necessity, but unidentifiable economy. When you're introduced to that world, there's a whole bunch of unwritten rules you have to learn and forget lots of formal rituals that you had excepted for being part of the elite shaped incorruptible society.
The range of choices is limited, they will always reflect the content of your wallet and at many times reveal the limitations of combining spending's with needs. There's a big gab between wanting and needing, a thin enticing line that shouldn't be crossed. Maybe you want new socks, but what you need is to ment the holes in the old pair. The biggest luring enemy however is the desperate thoughts that occur ones in a while. A recently held study showed that almost a million 'higher educated' people in The Netherlands take antidepressive medicines, not because they have to fear poverty or greater hurt for their loved ones, no, they just won't except any less than being successful. Depressive because of maybe not being able to go to that party on the rooftop of a 45 floor high exclusive apartment building, for maybe having to skip one holiday, but most of all the fear of not being a member of the in-crowd.
Despite all it's obvious impopulair downsides of that sub-culture, sometimes reverted to as poverty by the prophets of capitalism, you won't be measured by the rulers of succes, skin colour, descent or the way you chose to survive to be welcomed. There's no room for drugs solved depressions, simply because that's a to expensive luxury. These shortcuts of the mind are reverted to as sad days, bad days, feeling down periods and are treated with understanding conversations, acceptance, friendship, love and helping hands. Your creative talents, your well learned skills, your ability to share and receive, your experience, kindness, helpfulness and respect will pave our way in to a rapidly expanding world without the fake greener grass.
In at least one perspective that world is beautiful. An old broken electric boiler becomes a mailbox, a lifeless washing machine becomes a tool cabinet, empty coffee jars make a glass brick wall, skip found little windows combined with a few hundred little reclaimed wood pieces make a great door, a cigar box makes a nice little guitar, some rocks, reclaimed glass doors and broken tiles and make a nice garden theater to invite friends, a piece of firewood turns out to be a perfect meditation altar, a piece of a willow shouts out it actually is a birdhouse, a piece of almond wood from a storm broken tree becomes a luxurious “e-Smoker” docking station and a reclaimed “2x4” becomes with a little bit of perseverance a medieval folding chair or a few little tables. Anything has a second live, sometimes even a third. It's not a case of exclusivity, it's not a business-like construction, it's about sharing, trading ones skills for your own needs, that somebody else's talent will provide. Everybody will find a certain talent among the way. Mine turned out to be “making”.
Five kilo's of potatoes aren't five kilo's of potatoes, an orange cake isn't necessarily an orange cake, a knitted sweater isn't always a knitted sweater, a fallen down tree isn't a fallen down tree for sure. Fixing a broken chair could be the equivalent of 5 kilo's of potatoes, an orange cake could easily be traded for a helping hand, a knitted sweater could be 5 pairs of socks, a fallen tree could contain a beautiful made piece of furniture and still provide some warmth in winter. There's a beautiful world out their, despite it's grey clouds, but that's why keeps unidentifiable for the greedy blind.
Being in survival mode means fixing, the according to others unfixable, things yourself. It means gratefully accept any gift offered and sharing the given with others who are excepting it for the same reasons. It means an automatic stimulation of creativity and an opportunity recognizing view on abandoned items left by those more fortunate. It means entering that, sometimes even beautiful, subculture of a well known, born out of necessity, but unidentifiable economy. When you're introduced to that world, there's a whole bunch of unwritten rules you have to learn and forget lots of formal rituals that you had excepted for being part of the elite shaped incorruptible society.
The range of choices is limited, they will always reflect the content of your wallet and at many times reveal the limitations of combining spending's with needs. There's a big gab between wanting and needing, a thin enticing line that shouldn't be crossed. Maybe you want new socks, but what you need is to ment the holes in the old pair. The biggest luring enemy however is the desperate thoughts that occur ones in a while. A recently held study showed that almost a million 'higher educated' people in The Netherlands take antidepressive medicines, not because they have to fear poverty or greater hurt for their loved ones, no, they just won't except any less than being successful. Depressive because of maybe not being able to go to that party on the rooftop of a 45 floor high exclusive apartment building, for maybe having to skip one holiday, but most of all the fear of not being a member of the in-crowd.
Despite all it's obvious impopulair downsides of that sub-culture, sometimes reverted to as poverty by the prophets of capitalism, you won't be measured by the rulers of succes, skin colour, descent or the way you chose to survive to be welcomed. There's no room for drugs solved depressions, simply because that's a to expensive luxury. These shortcuts of the mind are reverted to as sad days, bad days, feeling down periods and are treated with understanding conversations, acceptance, friendship, love and helping hands. Your creative talents, your well learned skills, your ability to share and receive, your experience, kindness, helpfulness and respect will pave our way in to a rapidly expanding world without the fake greener grass.
In at least one perspective that world is beautiful. An old broken electric boiler becomes a mailbox, a lifeless washing machine becomes a tool cabinet, empty coffee jars make a glass brick wall, skip found little windows combined with a few hundred little reclaimed wood pieces make a great door, a cigar box makes a nice little guitar, some rocks, reclaimed glass doors and broken tiles and make a nice garden theater to invite friends, a piece of firewood turns out to be a perfect meditation altar, a piece of a willow shouts out it actually is a birdhouse, a piece of almond wood from a storm broken tree becomes a luxurious “e-Smoker” docking station and a reclaimed “2x4” becomes with a little bit of perseverance a medieval folding chair or a few little tables. Anything has a second live, sometimes even a third. It's not a case of exclusivity, it's not a business-like construction, it's about sharing, trading ones skills for your own needs, that somebody else's talent will provide. Everybody will find a certain talent among the way. Mine turned out to be “making”.
Five kilo's of potatoes aren't five kilo's of potatoes, an orange cake isn't necessarily an orange cake, a knitted sweater isn't always a knitted sweater, a fallen down tree isn't a fallen down tree for sure. Fixing a broken chair could be the equivalent of 5 kilo's of potatoes, an orange cake could easily be traded for a helping hand, a knitted sweater could be 5 pairs of socks, a fallen tree could contain a beautiful made piece of furniture and still provide some warmth in winter. There's a beautiful world out their, despite it's grey clouds, but that's why keeps unidentifiable for the greedy blind.
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