As a writer I’ve heard the advice Less is More all my life. But why? What does less offer that’s greater than more? Here’s a literary example:

The luxuriant, soft, red, gold and brown coat of my athletic old farm dog shimmered and gleamed in the bright warm sunshine as he investigated his surroundings with cheerful interest, avidly sniffing the thick green underbrush of the springtime forest.

Or

The sun shimmered golden on my old farm dog’s coat as he explored the springtime forest with cheerful interest.  

We know this, right? Too many adjectives and qualifiers bog a sentence down. The reader must sort the crowd of words to find what’s important; meaning gets lost in the confusion of plenty.

The advantage of less is more meaning.

Last blog, I promised to talk about how yoga helps us find the good in climate change (and in any struggle). Sooner or later, climate change will force us to edit our consumption. This is an opportunity. When we edit, we discover meaning.

Aparigraha is the Sanskrit word for not-hoarding. It is the last of the five restraints we are all supposed to follow (yama). The reward for not hoarding, according to this ancient wisdom, is full knowledge of your spiritual path. Isn’t that strange? Think of the other rewards the sutras promise:  practice non-violence and you will meet no resistance; practice truthfulness and everything you say will come true. You’d think not-hoarding might bring abundance for all, but instead we’re promised wisdom.

We define our values not through our beliefs but through the choices we make.

When we are forced to make hard choices, we are forced to define our values more clearly.

Make no mistake: the problems of climate change were caused by public policy and must be solved through policy. But while we figure that out as a society, limiting ourselves as individuals can lead us to wisdom even as our choices help to lead society to a more sustainable future.

What are your values?

Following are some areas where we might consider cutting back. Maybe you don’t want to, and that shows you value something else more. No judgement here. This exercise is for personal discovery and clarity.

Raising livestock for meat has caused enormous environmental degradation. Do you care? How much? Do you become a vegetarian? A vegan? Do you only eat local, pasture-raised animals? Do you only eat meat for feasts? Do you eat whatever and feel guilty about it? (This reminds me of a hilarious short story by Jonathan Lethem called Pending Vegan. Do find it!)

Transportation is another aspect of modern life that is not sustainable as is. Do you drive an electric car? A small car with good mileage? Only public transportation? Do you avoid air travel entirely? Restrict it in some way? Purchase off-sets?

Clothing is another consumer good that is not sustainable in its current form. Do you quit buying new?

This isn’t the end of fun.

It’s not even the end of excess. Asking how much is enough is an opportunity to understand what’s important. Excess may be important sometimes. But casual excess all the time is what got us to this terrible place. Like mindless parasites, our appetites are consuming our host. Is it worth it? Are we satisfied? What would be enough but not too much?

When you begin to explore how much is enough, you begin to know satisfaction.