Learning to Say “Yes” to the Recession

I was born in Canada—the land of snow. And though I grew up skiing, playing and snowshoeing in piles of it, it has taken decades for me to say “yes” to wintertime. When the first northerly winds blow into town each fall, inspiring me to cook stews and sleep later, I resist.

“No!” I shout out to the heavens. “I don’t want to slow down. I don’t want to be cold. I don’t want to spend more time inside.”

But we all know that there is a season for everything. The earth needs time to lay fallow—to gather strength for the burst of life in spring. And since the earth cannot resist orbiting around the sun, winter is inevitable. If we say “no” to winter, we will only make it harder on ourselves.

This past year, I tried to apply that logic to recessionary times—I wanted to frame the downturn as an economic “recess,” or timeout. I wondered if we collectively needed time to step back from our careers, investment portfolios and consumption to assess what we really value and how much we really need to live happily.

As a child, I have only fond memories of recessionary times. In the early eighties, our family was forced to downsize our lifestyle—we lost much of our income so we we moved to a smaller house and radically cut our spending. But from a child’s perspective, the recession meant my father worked fewer hours and spent more time at home. What a gift! It also was a time when we played creatively because we didn’t have piles of new toys. Our family spent less time talking about money or buying goods at the mall--we focused on other things like play, spirituality, gardening. All in all, I enjoyed our family’s “recess” from the hustle and bustle of new immigrant life.

So when our economy began its downslide last April, and I lost about 50% of my income and investments, I teetered on the precipice of despair. I wanted to shout, “no.” I wanted to find a way to get more work and have more money. But gazing upon my daughter, I decided to say “yes” to the recession. I’ve taken a mental break from a handful of projects. I spend less time shopping and more time sharing what I’ve got. I forego restaurant meals for tea-dates at friends’ homes. Most important of all, hours I might have spent working are now dedicated to playing with my daughter. Because more than anything else, I want my daughter to remember the recession of 2008/9, as one of the best times in our lives.