I stood in the dinner line, my shivering hands gripping a plastic bowl and a cup of water. A single ladle of condensed chicken noodle soup poured into my bowl; I took a white roll from the bag stamped "99" cents in red type. Sitting on the frozen bleachers, I wolfed down the food, but no seconds were allowed, so I headed back to camp. The fairground was desolate, lonely, and cold, inhabited only by makeshift cardboard structures and teenagers huddled together in groups. I dragged my refrigerator box through the dirt-patched grass, looking for a place to sleep. The fierce October air whipped past my ears as I knelt on the dirty ground, ripping duct tape pieces to hold my house together. I then unrolled my sleeping bag into the cardboard cave and climbed in, but sleep did not come easily. Thoughts of "What have I gotten myself into?" infested my mind and brought no rest.
Luckily, the events of this night were not a common occurrence for me. It was a benefit called "Night in a Box" to raise money for the homeless by spending a night outside. When I woke up the next morning with a stiff back and a head cold, I was greeted with steaming pancakes. The United Way counselors who ran the program wanted to reward us for sticking it out all night. I began to realize how lucky I was. I was only homeless for a night, when others are homeless their entire lives. For people in poverty, there are no lavish breakfasts to make up for sparse dinners. In the warm four walls of my home, real suffering feels so far away. This experience instilled in me distaste for meaningless accumulation of personal possessions. I gave away half of my belongings.
I now consider myself a minimalist. Every time I buy something new, I give away something in return. I fully believe in the sentiment that you can't take it with you. I'm always looking for superfluous items that I can remove from my room and decrease clutter in my life.
I take pride in recycling clothes and knowing that I'm doing my part to reduce waste on this earth. But at first it was a challenge to let go of my belongings. I liked my stuff. It was nice. It was mine. A teddy bear that sat in my closet for years, suddenly became exceedingly important to me when it was time to give it away. Over time, it became easier to let go of needless possessions and I cam to enjoy giving my belongings away. My glimpse into the lives of others completely changed my perspective for the better. It took a night sleeping in a box for me to begin thinking outside of it.
Luckily, the events of this night were not a common occurrence for me. It was a benefit called "Night in a Box" to raise money for the homeless by spending a night outside. When I woke up the next morning with a stiff back and a head cold, I was greeted with steaming pancakes. The United Way counselors who ran the program wanted to reward us for sticking it out all night. I began to realize how lucky I was. I was only homeless for a night, when others are homeless their entire lives. For people in poverty, there are no lavish breakfasts to make up for sparse dinners. In the warm four walls of my home, real suffering feels so far away. This experience instilled in me distaste for meaningless accumulation of personal possessions. I gave away half of my belongings.
I now consider myself a minimalist. Every time I buy something new, I give away something in return. I fully believe in the sentiment that you can't take it with you. I'm always looking for superfluous items that I can remove from my room and decrease clutter in my life.
I take pride in recycling clothes and knowing that I'm doing my part to reduce waste on this earth. But at first it was a challenge to let go of my belongings. I liked my stuff. It was nice. It was mine. A teddy bear that sat in my closet for years, suddenly became exceedingly important to me when it was time to give it away. Over time, it became easier to let go of needless possessions and I cam to enjoy giving my belongings away. My glimpse into the lives of others completely changed my perspective for the better. It took a night sleeping in a box for me to begin thinking outside of it.
