Slow Living, the minifilm
an ordinary life to change the world
Today’s offering is decidedly more exciting than my usual letters, because this one comes complete with a YouTube video! I call them minifilms because, 1) the reference to filmmaking reflects the immense time and effort that I put into creating these, and 2) maybe I’m a bit proud and resist any reference to being called a content creator?
Some of you may have no idea that I have a YouTube channel, and it’s honestly surprising to myself as well. It is the platform where I have gotten the most traction, if we are measuring by number of subscribers (7500+ on YT to the lovely 100 of you here with me on Substack). I am so grateful to have multiple avenues to share my work, and people do seem to be more captivated by video vs. written text. However, I am more grateful than ever that a village green such as Substack exists, as I have come to cherish this community of writers and readers, and its commitment to the written word.
If it pleases you, I encourage you to take in this week’s essay by viewing the film. It goes exceptionally well with a cup of tea! If you prefer reading above all else, not to worry — I have given you the essay below.
Thank you for being here! Your presence means the world to me.
Love,
Kristina
Greetings! The Ancestral Homekeeper is a newsletter dedicated to slow & simple living for all of us. I’m Kristina, and I believe that the way we shape our lives at home will be reflected in our society at large. By blending the wisdom of our ancestors with contemporary thoughts on mental health, self nurturing, and social justice, we can find the path to changing our world. New letter is out every Sunday!
The fog and mist from the morning had begun to clear. One of my favorite days of the year had finally arrived, and I was filled with a sense of quiet calm. What could possibly represent “slow living” more than our annual apple picking day? The quiet walk through the orchard. The sun peeking through the clouds. The small hands of my children, grasping at apples just out of their reach. The promise of fragrant apple pie and crisp apple cider for the season to come. It always proves to be an extraordinary day in an otherwise ordinary life.
When slow living is a major guiding principle to how you spend your time, it can mean sacrificing other things. Two large incomes. Extensive vacations in other parts of the world. The latest technologies or the most up-to-date home. In some ways, life would be easier or more pleasant if we had more access to these things. But the value we gain from living slowly and simply can ripple out into the community, and build a foundation of love and kindness for my children that will serve them as they grow and make their way out into the world.
And what a world it is. We have lived in a patriarchal society for so much of human existence. As a species, we have always known war and deprivation. With all of the pain that we see in the news, the heartache and destruction, it can be nearly impossible to find peace in our hearts. We ache for the mothers and the children who are suffering. For highly sensitive people like myself, it can feel paralyzing, too much to bear. I am seized by my inability to affect change. I mean, I can call my lawmakers. I can donate. I can protest. Sometimes however, that feels insufficient.
I dream of a matriarchy – which people mistakenly think would look like the society we have now, but with women holding the majority of the money and power. I don’t believe this is true. Can a group of mothers push the button on a bomb that would take the children away from another group of mothers? Can a culture rooted in the love and care of the mother consistently raise sons who kidnap and destroy, pillage and burn? The mother is more collectively minded, caring for other children almost as easily as she cares for her own. She is aware of much more than her own needs and desires, which I believe means she would naturally listen to other voices and give them a weight that is sorely lacking in today’s treatment of marginalized communities.
Perhaps you call this sort of dreaming naive. We don’t really know how women and mothers would act within a matriarchal structure — we’ve never had the opportunity to find out, save for a few small isolated societies scattered through history. But I believe we can find out.
There is something more we can do to affect change to our status quo, beyond calling our elected officials and dreaming of this mythical-seeming matriarchy. I don’t have all the answers. But I do believe that by slowing down, teaching my children the value of a slow and thoughtful life, we can begin to apply the brakes to runaway consumer capitalism that drives so much destruction and greed. My children are learning to work through boredom, an invaluable skill in a culture dominated by smartphones. They are learning that kindness is the guiding force of how we interact with each other, instead of common posturing and bullying so prevalent on school campuses today. Long hours at home give them space and time to explore what lights them up inside, from engineering to protecting endangered animals.
Make no mistake – it is a privilege in our society to be able to opt out of public school in favor of homeschool. It is a privilege to not have to work three jobs just to make ends meet. It is a privilege to have a body and skin color that affords me more safety than others. I am acutely aware of this privilege. Part of why I choose to live this way is so that my children can be a part of the solution that will afford everyone the ability to live in safety and comfort.
If my son is raised in a way where he understands the irrefutable right of consent, of his duty to use his privilege to protect and lift up the voices without it, then I will have made a lasting contribution to more peace in the world. If my daughter is raised to see herself as whole and autonomous and worthy of a voice, I will have made a lasting contribution to the possibility of a matriarchy. If my children value kindness and safety above personal gain and the accumulation of power, then I am indeed using my seemingly ordinary life to change the world. Slow living is our chosen path, as it affords us the peace in our home that we believe will translate to peace in the world.
I am brought back to my apples. My flowers. My kitchen. It is through these everyday moments in life that I dream of the future. Though it may seem small, imagining a more peaceful society is the first step to attaining one. Raising my children this way puts these imaginings into action.