Going Green

One of the most profound ideas from my big Christmas trip was how it affected my relationship with my wallet. Taking a family of 6 that far for that long went beyond the normal vacation budgets and into spending money that could/should have been saved for a house (we’re currently renting), college or rainy day. Instead of stability or security, what we got in return for the investment was a T-shirt, some photos and our memories. Were they priceless as the commercial would imply or was I irresponsible for sacrificing my kids’ college funds, and where is that line exactly?

I’m going to tackle money issues in the next few columns discussing our ideas on frugality, abundance, tithing, etc. and how they’re shaped by our religious outlook. Today’s column is focused on the idea of savers vs. spenders. I realize there is a level of poverty which prevents this column from being relevant to some, but most of us who have the ability and time to be on the internet have some discretion in our spending habits, even if it’s merely the kind of chicken we buy from the grocery store (see below).

As an admitted spender (I actually like to think of myself as a splurger really), I’ve long felt out of place in LDS culture. When I first started attending Relief Society and hearing the stories of all the ways money could be saved, I began to feel guilt because I felt no guilt over the fact that I bought both boneless and skinless chicken breasts. To hear the women I was surrounded by speak, this was a luxury reserved only for the most wealthy among us, and though most of us bought our chicken processed this way, it was considered a guilty pleasure.

I would spend years trying to be like them, counting every penny I spent, clipping coupons, and making the things I wanted for my home and family rather than buying them, but in the end I always just felt deprived and overwhelmingly not good enough. I somehow got the impression that being a good steward was wrapped up in these activities.

They’re generally admirable habits, but they didn’t work for me. Instead I’ve muddled along learning how to save and budget in other ways yet always wishing I was a saver at heart.

Taking this trip required I move past the idea that spending is somehow bad or wrong. The more I did that, the more fun I had, even though the money spent would have been the same with either attitude. And I watched this phenomenon play out on a smaller scale with my children as   those who are naturally spenders had every bit as much fun as the savers even though they were out of souvenir money much faster. They had confidence in their spending decisions and either were happy with their initial purchases or learned to be happy with them. For me, spending and saving became just a choice, not a moral issue.

I’ve always known that being a spender has risks and costs, but this wonderful trip taught me that there are also costs to being a saver. What is the cost to your memory of not experiencing or enjoying new places, food, etc.? What is the cost to your quality of life in terms of time and convenience you could save by spending a bit more money? What is the cost to your soul of using/stealing someone’s ideas or work without paying them?

Are you a spender or a saver and do you attach a certain morality to it?