We have all heard in passing the Spanish phrase “Mi Casa, Su Casa”, which roughly translates to “my house is your house”. It is a beautiful phrase indicative of the possibility of a much more hospitable and open world than we currently inhabit. When we live fully by this phrase we turn over our possessions to others, they turn theirs over to us, and both are all the more wealthy for having done so.  This is collective strength.

​

It has been written that “Property is Theft”. These three words make for a strange, controversial and thought provoking phase. When I hear it I immediately think of beach front private real estate. The beautiful shore line and stretches of sandy beach, nature’s gift to all of humanity, are privatized for the sake of one family at the expense of all of nature’s children, as there is no trespassing on this legally privatized land. It is nearly tragic: “The people’s beach” has been stolen from them.

​

 I understand that the former paragraph presents a very controversial view point and not everyone is bound to agree upon it—hell, there are people who don’t even believe that clean drinking water is a human right, let alone uphold the people’s right to gallivant about on the face of the Earth wherever they please in spite of No Trespassing signs. Either way, the idea of a person’s right to private property is a deeply entrenched belief among Americans, I know. And this is a belief that I am in partial agreement with. I believe there are places and times for private property, but I think we overdo it to the point of cutting up our world into non-relating segments when we would fair better with a more interconnected world. So I ask that if we find ourselves in disagreement upon this point here I ask that we aim to always keep our focus on our common ground, on our shared beliefs.

​

And with that disclaimer out of the way I would like to present you all with a vision—the vision of the Su Casa Sharing and Trade Market. It is simple. I voluntarily surrender all that which is mine to the community-at-large’s pool of resources. If I want I can exclude certain items from the pool. For instance, I am very attached to my guitar so that is off the table. It’s mine. Everything else is yours. And what’s yours is mine. Your wardrobe is now our wardrobe. Your musical gear is now our musical gear. My books our books. Etc.

This cooperation with one another will lead to increased wealth among participants and it will seriously reduce waste, not to mention building community alliances and networks.

 

Think of a circular saw. Today in residential suburbia, within one square mile there are probably five men or more with their own personal circular saws collecting dust in their garage. If, instead of buying five separate individual saws on their own, they shared one saw between them then they have significantly reduced both their consumption of resources and their carbon footprint. They’ve also avoided participating in the seemingly necessary monetary economy, where the cards were stacked against them.

​

In designing a Su Casa market/trading culture there is infinite room for creative systems thinking. I have scarcely touched the surface of what this market could/would look like or its potential to catalyze radical economic, ecologic and social change—I strongly encourage the reader to develop their own creative ideas for the design of the su casa market and bring them to our attention so we can together design this new and uncharted world together as our collective intelligence and wisdom shine.