Much ink has been spilled assigning blame for our current economic woes, both individually and as a nation. But I’m not as interested in the blame game as I am in prescribing a way forward.

     What if we began to live our lives less out of a sense of keeping up with the Joneses and more out of a sense of gratitude for what we have? I believe that a deep adherence to this “gratitude economy” provides an alternative to the all-too-prevalent myth of more is better.

     History tells volumes in this regard. Perhaps no generation in the modern era understood gratitude more than that which lived through the Great Depression. Hard-working Dad took a decent job, working eight hours a day to earn a livable wage at a reputable company, sometimes staying for 30 or 40 years. Despite placing a premium on material security — and rightly so — nuclear families lived in tight-knit cul-de-sacs where neighbors knew each other and a cup of sugar was only a house away.

     But children of Depression survivors — the Boomers — perhaps just separated enough from the economic hardships of the 1930s and ’40s, took Dad’s work ethic and applied it toward upward mobility, entrepreneurism, and prosperity in the 1980s and ’90s. Combined with the ballooning of the national economy, we began to see individual priorities of many Americans shift from faith, family and community to career-building and wealth creation.

     And boy, did we ever. We made lots of money, but we were busier than ever. Relationships suffered, and divorce rates skyrocketed. Modest ranch-style homes gave way to McMansions, and one car per family gave way to two or three. And yet during these days of unparalleled wealth, seemingly unlimited individual opportunity (for some), and nagging discontent with what we had, a simple concept reigned supreme in nearly every aspect of life: obtaining more will make us happier.

     Have we woken up from this dream yet?

     Slowly, people are waking up and friends are beginning to live by a slightly different compass, one predicated on community, simplicity, and human interaction. It’s what Bill McKibben calls a “deep economy.”

     What if groups of friends took inventory of their “stuff” — what they own, what they don’t need, what they want to give away, what they can share? If Kelly needs a shovel, she’ll know that Brian has one in his shed, saving her a trip to Home Depot. In fact, in a culture where we tend to gauge our worth more by how much we consume than the depth of our human relationships, some may choose to try out something radical together: not buying anything new for a year. What if we got through the current economic disaster — and maybe the next — by sharing what we have with each other, finding creative alternatives for the things and services we need, and buying things used as a last resort?

     Furthermore, what if we also inventory our talents and skills — what we enjoy doing and do well? Sonya makes bread and can fix bikes. Houston makes salsa. I am pretty good with a snow shovel. By sharing what we do best, we’ll be both helpful and good neighbors. In fact, I’m sure the two are inseparable.

     But in a nation whose economic health is determined by markets that “run themselves,” it’s easy to let this same principle creep into our human interactions. A quick example of this occurred after a snowstorm last winter. My wife and her workout partner skipped the gym one Sunday morning, instead opting to shovel some of our neighbors’ porches and dig out their cars. After they had helped an older woman clear off her steps, the woman started to run inside, saying, “You girls wait right there. I’ll be right back.” Knowing she was about to pay them for their labor, they stopped her and insisted that expected nothing in return. “Well, then, come by sometime for a cup of tea,” the older woman said, reluctantly. They told her they would. That’s what neighbors do.

     I do sympathize with those who have experienced financial loss during this recession. But now is the perfect opportunity for Americans to invest at least as much in human relationships as they do in commodities-based markets that have recently shown their mortality. For those of us who are waking up and reaching out for friend security rather than just financial security, this reorientation won’t make us rich — but it might just make us happier.