Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--and soap
I called my brother, and he called me back. We talked about soap and food and dad, but mostly soap.
A quick note about my brother's current lifestyle: I make a lot of references about him being a "dirty hippie" and living "on a commune" ("in a commune"?) but I don't want to give the wrong impression. I say these things with love. and bemusement. and to sometimes to give a name to a state of living that I don't really understand. But he's not some waxy, aging, pot-smoker, murmuring cliches about The Man and selling stash boxes to dreadlocked white kids. He's an energetic, hard-working slightly idealistic twenty-something who spends a lot of time working at his church and tutoring and volunteering and reading books on Mennonite doctrine and organic gardening. He lives communally, but in approximately the same way that five or six (unusually cohesive and well-organized) college students will live together in a large, old house. Most of them are "apprentices" at the church, but that just means that they work there part time for two semesters (roughly). Also, they're in Evanston, not the woods of New York or the mountains of Utah.
My brother gave up soap four months ago. (Also, meat in general, and things that aren't fair trade. but we're talking about soap here.)
I'm pretty sure this does not include using soap on his hands or his dishes or toothpaste, but I forgot to ask. Apparently some of the books he was reading mentioned it, and he looked into it further. He does use water. and a washcloth. and deodorant (but an organic one without preservatives or antiperspirant). His reasoning (and he did explain this clearly and logically, in case I don't do a good job of communicating that here) is that human beings evolved/have lived thousands of years without soap and our bodies are set up to function under those conditions (my notes read "oil in your skin has a cleansing purpose"). He says that he gradually phased out soap and even then it took about two weeks for his body to adjust for the oil production and bacterial ecology of his skin to adjust. Now he showers only when necessary, which is after he gets actually dirty (but there's not a lot of yard work between December and March) or after he gives himself a haircut, which is maybe once a month. I must have been asking a lot of questions, because my notes quote him as saying "form understanding through trying". He says this winter his skin has been more clear and less dry than ever before, and when I hugged him goodbye on Sunday he smelled just sort of like a person, not like soap or AX (egh) or like an old billy goat, but sort like you might smell Sunday night after you've spent the weekend lounging in your jammies and skipped your shower on Saturday.
Then we talked about fasting for forty days and shabbat candles and mom's desire to see the Blue Man Group.
A quick note about my brother's current lifestyle: I make a lot of references about him being a "dirty hippie" and living "on a commune" ("in a commune"?) but I don't want to give the wrong impression. I say these things with love. and bemusement. and to sometimes to give a name to a state of living that I don't really understand. But he's not some waxy, aging, pot-smoker, murmuring cliches about The Man and selling stash boxes to dreadlocked white kids. He's an energetic, hard-working slightly idealistic twenty-something who spends a lot of time working at his church and tutoring and volunteering and reading books on Mennonite doctrine and organic gardening. He lives communally, but in approximately the same way that five or six (unusually cohesive and well-organized) college students will live together in a large, old house. Most of them are "apprentices" at the church, but that just means that they work there part time for two semesters (roughly). Also, they're in Evanston, not the woods of New York or the mountains of Utah.
My brother gave up soap four months ago. (Also, meat in general, and things that aren't fair trade. but we're talking about soap here.)
I'm pretty sure this does not include using soap on his hands or his dishes or toothpaste, but I forgot to ask. Apparently some of the books he was reading mentioned it, and he looked into it further. He does use water. and a washcloth. and deodorant (but an organic one without preservatives or antiperspirant). His reasoning (and he did explain this clearly and logically, in case I don't do a good job of communicating that here) is that human beings evolved/have lived thousands of years without soap and our bodies are set up to function under those conditions (my notes read "oil in your skin has a cleansing purpose"). He says that he gradually phased out soap and even then it took about two weeks for his body to adjust for the oil production and bacterial ecology of his skin to adjust. Now he showers only when necessary, which is after he gets actually dirty (but there's not a lot of yard work between December and March) or after he gives himself a haircut, which is maybe once a month. I must have been asking a lot of questions, because my notes quote him as saying "form understanding through trying". He says this winter his skin has been more clear and less dry than ever before, and when I hugged him goodbye on Sunday he smelled just sort of like a person, not like soap or AX (egh) or like an old billy goat, but sort like you might smell Sunday night after you've spent the weekend lounging in your jammies and skipped your shower on Saturday.
Then we talked about fasting for forty days and shabbat candles and mom's desire to see the Blue Man Group.