When you have nothing to waste you waste nothing.

In the mid 70’s, I moved to Maui, upcountry, onto a 9+ acre property, and into a less than 500 square foot shack. It was of single-wall construction, meaning you could see through some of the planks, and if not controlled, the Kukui grass would make its way inside.

Elevated from the kitchen was the living area. Tibetan rugs and pillows covered the floor. One low, small table and a 13′ television with a cloth covering it were the only pieces of furniture. A freestanding fireplace created an around-the-campfire feel with the accompanying smoke (the stove pipe was too short of drawing efficiently).

The loft, where we slept, was my favorite area. You could only stand up on one end, but a wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor window exposed the beauty of the pastures.

Living off the grid required us to prioritize our daily electrical needs. With a windmill, a few solar panels, and an inefficient battery system, they were only sufficient enough to provide us with hot water for the day or the limited use of an appliance.

To use the blender, a juicer, my sewing machine, or the TV took planning. The options were to forgo a hot shower or pull up a car to the back door, hook the inverter cables to the car’s battery like you were to jump-start it, turn on the car, plug the appliance in, and viola; we had power. The other alternative was to run the loud, smelly gas generator, which was always my last choice.

The refrigerator, stove, and lights ran on propane, and although we had a stream that ran through the gorge, we relied on the county for drinking water.

We grew our food. Barter and the local markets provided us with whatever we lacked.

My boyfriend and I raised geese; although we were vegetarian, he ate the eggs, and I did not. Mainly the geese served for weed abatement and as watchdogs. They would alert us of any trespassers.

My horses lived on the back pasture with a steer named Spot, who thought he was still a bull. The spot was there to eat the weeds the horses didn’t like. The rats would overrun the property if the Kukui grass and weeds were not kept at bay.

My nemesis was the toilet. It was an outhouse in the middle of the circular driveway and initially did not have a door. The saving grace, if there could be one, was it was an actual toilet that flushed.

Throughout the year, our driveway/dirt road was rutted and muddy. As a result, 4X4s were our only means of access.

Life was great.

While there, I experienced a 40-year flood, hepatitis outbreaks twice that put the island in quarantine, and a devastating hurricane in which several of my friends lost their homes. Even though our house was the smallest, ours was the one everyone congregated in when an emergency hit. Since we already functioned without many ‘conveniences,’ the shortages barely affected us.

I have laid a foundation for my life during those years living with less. Less was not a disadvantage. On the contrary, it has proven to provide much more.

Now living in California in an area affected yearly by fires or floods, I’ve realized my constitution is unflustered when natural disasters occur.

When one has lived with less, one becomes accustomed to being resourceful. We make the most of limited resources without complaint or waste. So the need for panic does not arise.

The same has been confirmed for me and COVID-19.

However, not everyone has lived with less; most have lived with an abundance that a first-world country affords, so having restrictions may challenge the ability to cope.

As humans, we have the capacity for responsibility, which, in essence, is the ability to respond.

How we respond results from our experiences, upbringing, emotional constitution, physical limitations, spiritual outlook, and choice.

We will get through this period in history. How we fare will be determined by how we react. Negativity from within or by another will not propel us any closer to a solution. Panic, fear, and anxiety may arise. However, we choose gratitude for what we have and trust our needs will be provided for.

Like everything in life, The Let Go is a reminder to lighten up by letting go of the stuff that no longer serves us.

There is never a better time to adjust how we view our lives; we can embrace or resist it. I hope we find a clear vision where our values have evolved and our needs have lessened.

Be safe, my friends, stay home, read, make love, laugh, and find joy. May we remember how this time of less has brought much more into our lives?