Need.

Several years ago, I began to try intermittent fasting or ‘time restricted eating’, which are fancy ways of saying eating less food and in shorter time window (typically 8-10 hours). For me, this simply meant not having breakfast. 

Fasting is not new. Complete fasting is practiced in most religious and spiritual traditions, and in many cultures one or two meals a day is the norm. Breakfast is a fairly modern invention, and breakfast cereal is a very modern invention.

After a short adjustment period, I noticed not only did I not feel lacking in energy, I felt significantly more energetic, more focussed and with more clarity. My overall health and digestion felt much better. My body was no longer being rudely awoken, giving my gut and whole body a rest. 

Although improving my health was my reason for wanting to do this, I realised something else - my body needs far less food than I think. I began to wonder about all the food I had consumed over the years that was completely unnecessary calories.

Over the last few years, I’ve begun to think more and more about what I actually need. Do I need to buy something new? Could I repair something instead of replacing it? Could I get something second-hand? Could I borrow something? 

Could I do without it completely?

This last question is usually where I feel the most resistance, and underneath that some desire or attachment I have. I now buy very little although I still own far more things than I need.

The questioning of need feels more important than ever. Not only has our idea of what we ‘need’ ravaged the planet, it has also fundamentally shifted our sense of self and the meaning of our lives. Many people, at least in wealthier countries, now feel incomplete, unsuccessful or unhappy unless they have certain things they believe they need.

This includes something as fundamental as food. In England, the percentage of people classified as obese has almost doubled in the last 30 years. 

At the same time, almost 800 million people in the world live with chronic hunger and over 300 million people don’t know where their next meal is coming from.

So in the generally wealthy global north, we have an excess of calories based on our perceived need. And in the generally poor global south, there is a deficit of calories and a real, existential need for them.

Even in England itself, there has been a consistent rise in food banks and food insecurity.

This unusual sense of need is true of most things we consume. The latest marketing and trends exhort us to buy more stuff, which invariably is discarded in some way when the next fad comes along - trainers, clothes, phones, cars and so on.

I’m not writing this as a sermon or a bollocking, because I too am complicit in this. I’m pointing to the madness of it all, our muddled and abusive relationship with need.

We don’t need as much we think. Nowhere near as much as we think.

In fact, it’s possible that these things we accumulate might be obscuring or preventing us from getting what we truly do need: love, connection, peace.

Consider this. Most people I know would like to spend more time with the people they care about most and doing things they enjoy. But they feel some level of frustration at being unable to, because of how much time they spend working and the stress that comes with it. 

Why do they work so hard? So they can buy things that, largely, further get in the way of really connecting with the people they love. Even a bigger and more comfortable home means more debt and therefore, more work and time apart. And always they will talk about ‘needing’ more time.

Even in profit-making organisations, where we might think that only what is truly essential is done, there is in fact a huge amount of waste. ‘Busy work’ and inefficiency is everywhere - meetings, documents, committees, unnecessary or complicated processes, even conversations in which people say a lot but contribute very little.

What do we actually need to do, should be a mantra for all organisations. 

What do we actually need for a good life might be a useful mantra for all of us individually.

We don’t need as much we think. Nowhere near as much as we think.

“We all get what we need, exactly when we need it.”

- Byron Katie

Tipping Point: sharing information on the climate crisis

“Throw all the sand down you want. Mother nature decides how long it will protect your homes."

A beachfront community in New England spent $600k on building sand dunes to protect their homes - the ocean washed them away in 3 days.

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About me.

I’m a coach, consultant and facilitator living in Berlin.

Contact me to: 

• Make sense of what’s going on in your organisation.

• Make sense of what’s going on with you, your work and your life.

• Have a real conversation.

At the heart of my work is helping individuals and organisations to make sense of who they are and the world around them. You can find out more about my coaching work here and my work with men & masculinity here.