So here’s what I’ve been wondering:
If I’ve always taken for granted
that disposable plastic is necessary for life
and am now discovering that this isn’t the case at all,
what else have I believed
that isn’t true?
Drying Out
There are days when I wonder why we even bother trying to live in a way that produces less waste. Does it really matter, I sometimes ask myself, if I don’t buy the bag of chips or the new hair clip or whatever else it is I want so badly? Almost everything in our culture – from the aisles lined with spiffily packaged food to the promise of the American Dream – tells me that the answer is no. In fact, there are days when not buying my kid crackers seems downright ridiculous.
But more and more, what’s absurd isn’t my cart of rye flour and raisins in muslin bags. What’s absurd are those bursting aisles of boxes and bags and cans and jars that seem less like a source of sustenance and more like a clean and well lit landfill. I don’t see the food anymore, just the waste.
The rushing river of consumerism moves so quickly, with so much force, that when we are caught in it, it is almost impossible to tell how carried away we’ve become. Without making this commitment to living without plastic for even a few months, it would have been close to impossible for me to sit on the banks, watching all the cool stuff get swept by.
I feel, sometimes, like one of the addicts I used to nurse at the hospital. Just as I start drying out from that rushing river you might call Modern Consumer Culture, I start asking what’s one small hit/bag of chips going to do? I’m ready to jump back into the current, to get swept away again.
Because of that vow, I am discovering ways to drown out the all-pervasive voice of culture and advertising and a whole lifetime of pretty much getting what I want. And I look at that bag of chips and ask two new questions: How was the earth harmed to make this? How will the earth be harmed when I throw it away?
I can’t always articulate an answer, but the gist of it steers me back to the bulk food aisle, or home to do some knitting, or for a walk on the land. Like any addict, I sometimes ask the higher power for help. The moment passes. And I feel relieved to be sitting out the deluge, drying out little by little.
Thank you to this week’s sponsor
The first official week of our plastic free experiment
was made possible by
Wood
beautiful wood.
One Small Change
One of the best parts about blogging about our journey to simple, plastic free living has been the conversation it creates among our community, both here in Santa Fe and online, about living with more ecological consciousness. It’s like a great big web of mutual inspiration, with everyone’s passion and knowledge getting fed and activated and potentized by everyone else’s. What started out as a somewhat lonely, symbolic action has become one of the most positive, community building experiences of my life. Which feels much, much cozier.
And now there is a wonderful project in the works inviting folks like you and me to make one small change per month until Earth Day (April 22). Hip Mountain Mama had the idea, and you can learn more and see what participants are up to at her blog. What I love about One Small Change (the project’s official name) is the way it inspires each of us to tap into our personal genius and hearts for the small (or large!) change that we most want to implement in our lives. And frankly, it’s the healthy sort of peer pressure we could all use more of.
So far folks are doing all sorts of different things. Some are hanging clothes on the line to dry. Some are educating their children about frugality and conservation. Some are bringing cloth bags to the store, or joining a CSA. Some are switching to cloth diapers or taking the time to walk instead of drive on one errand per week. One Small Change challenges us to find the action that is personal, possible, and powerful, and to do it. It doesn’t matter what it is we do, just that we do something. That is, a little more than we already are.
So along with the big changes we’ve got brewing over here, I’ll be making just one more small (and quite delightful) change. More on that tomorrow. In case you are as susceptible to the collective momentum of this concept as I was, please do share your own small change. I love to see the way they all add up to a really big one.
Hello, Goodbye: Getting Ready for Life After Plastic
This well-loved and sun bleached trike was dropped off by a friend a month or so ago, and we so appreciate the timing. If it had been offered in the new year, we wouldn’t have been able to accept. That’s the terms of the plastic fast (January 1-May 1) we’ve committed to: Love what you got, make do without what you don’t. We’ve been getting ready to live by this motto for several months now, not so much stocking up (see exceptions below) as learning how to live without the things we once thought were so essential. In the process, we’ve been saying hello to some new products and goodbye to others. In no particular order, the things on my mind these final days are:
Hello:
:: Hello Glue in a can. I love making small books and collages, and burn through glue sticks like nobody’s business.
:: Hello chevre, yogurt, and sour cream cultures. I ordered them from here, and am stocking up as they unfortunately come in tiny plastic bags.
:: Hello mineral pigments in metal tins. Goodbye liquid makeup in a tube.
:: Hello water activated paper tape. Yep, there are times when string just won’t do the job.
:: Hello Compressed natural cellulose sponges. I’d love a Skoy cloth or two, but rags will have to do.
:: Hello fruit juice sweetened ketchup, the only one I can find in a glass jar. It’s good for us, right?
:: Hello cloth baby wipes. A solution of 2 tbsp baby oil, 2 tbsp baby shampoo, and a cup of water make cleaning bums a breeze. I also stack a few to the needed thickness for menstrual pads. We’ve been using cloth diapers since our daughter was born, but not always at night. So bye, bye disposables.
:: Hello renewed sense of right livelihood and balance.
Goodbye:
:: So long, Braggs, beloved condiment that has been with me all my days. I still can’t figure out what you actually are, but I’m forsaking you for tamari from the bulk section of the co-op.
:: Goodbye, condoms. At a mining museum I once saw old tins that held one reusable, animal gut “shield.” As far as I know, nothing like that is available today (or actually effective). Instead we’ll continue using Fertility Awareness (which has worked for us for ten years), and hoard our little stash of latex for fertile day emergencies.
:: Bye, bye, Monterey Jack. We can buy bulk cheddar and baby swiss (and bring it home in a tiffin), but no jack. I’ve been making lot’s of simple soft cheeses and appreciate the way they’ve expanded my culinary world, but this is a favorite, and we’ll miss it.
:: Farewell, contact lenses and associated waste. Hello glasses! (Not me, him.)
:: Adios, cheap underwear and socks from big box stores.
:: So long, canned tomatoes and coconut milk. I’ll keep writing letters to your manufacturers asking them to package you in glass, but until, then, be well.
:: Good riddance, Ebay.
:: Bye for now, snack food for kiddos. Okay, I’ll confess, I bought C. a giant bag (no cardboard) of O’s, but have stashed them in a jar for emergencies.
:: And a fond farewell to feelings of guilt and powerlessness. Thank you for propelling us to make these changes!
::
If the things on these lists seem, well, minor, they are (but let’s talk again in February, shall we?) That’s what I’ve learned during these months of weaning off plastic – we don’t actually need (much of) it. Some exceptions that my pragmatic side asks me to acknowledge our need for are:
:: The occasional plastic cap on milk bottles and the like. Before buying plastic parts I’ll try to go without, or make my own (mayo and toothpowder, for example). We’ll be saving all plastic that makes it’s way into our home, maybe for a fabulous art project if that glue turns out to be worth a dime.
:: Motor oil. Our cars are old, efficient, and kept alive by regular transfusions of oil. But we’ll try to keep it to a minimum by driving as little as possible.
:: Cat food. I’m not planning to make Nippy give up wet food, though one friend pointed out that if I really cared I’d make it for her. I guess we all have our limits. I’m having trouble finding dry food in a paper bag not lined with plastic. Suggestions? As for cat litter, let’s just say Nippy will be spending more time outdoors.
For more on changes we’ve made to make trips to the grocery store plastic free (easily the biggest hurdle), read this post. The long-time plastic-free blogger Fake Plastic Fish has a much more comprehensive list of changes and alternatives here.
Quiet Days of Simple Splendor
We go through days and seasons of busy-ness and calm, but this is the first year that I can say the holiday season is actually relaxing me. The old, familiar acts of honoring this time of cold and preparing for the soon-to-return light create a new framework for my days. They pull me away from the computer and back into a world rich with creativity and handmade works.
The tasks at hand? Creating an altar in honor of Winter; taking walks upon the frozen earth, cheeks red with cold; making beeswax ornaments to revive a bit of summer’s warmth (thanks to Gardenmama for the inspiration); crafting simple gifts from yarn and herbs, paper and paste; writing cards by hand to relatives and friends; cooking with the bountiful foods of winter, the turnips and beets, carrots and greens and leeks; making the spiced cookies my daughter’s great, great Grandmother brought with her from Russia.
All this and so much more bring a richness of purpose and creative fulfillment to these short, potent days before we gather with family, sharing love and small gifts and plentiful food. Sure, things will get wild at some point. But for now I’m heeding the call to be still. To turn away from the rush and towards the simple, thankful for a season that gives us so much to celebrate.
Have you seen the new e-magazine Rhythm of the Home? It is brimming with simple, beautiful ways to celebrate the winter. Consider it my gift to you!
The Teachings of Guru Yo-yo
So, my girl taught me to say yo-yo, and the joy of it is so great I swear I’ll never say yogurt again. Turns out yo-yo has a few lessons of its own for this woman trying her hand at the old kitchen arts. It says, if you want to make me, remember:
::Sing often and loudly. This work is a celebration.
::Pay attention, to temperatures and tablespoons, but also to the rhythm of your breath, the sureness of your hand.
::When things come out differently than planned, remember that the unexpected is a generous detour, and not driving is another way of discovering new delights.
::Give way, give way. This isn’t the dairy aisle, Dorothy. Thin, thick, sour, sweet. None of it will go to waste if only you give way, give way.
Note from the humble yogurt making disciple: I used to think making yo-yo was as easy as cooking a pot of rice. Then came the time I now call The Month of the Funky Yo-yo. With each new batch I tried to reclaim my groove, tinkering with the starter, the incubators, adding rennet, and on an on. For my efforts I’d get something acceptable for adding to pancake batter. And I’m not picky! This week it just…worked. We are enjoying the loveliest, creamiest, thickest and sweetest goat milk yogurt imaginable. I am delighted to say that I have no idea why it worked this week and not the others (unless it had to do with my forgetting all about it and leaving it to incubate 11 hours instead of 8). It is alchemy and magic and my only advice is this: persist, don’t insist.
Why Bother?
Anybody else feeling a bit dismayed about the poor showing of the carbon spewing USA over there in Copenhagen? I sputter, sometimes, while listening to the news, with its moments of both inspiration and doom. How can our country so blatantly disregard its responsibilities, blithely neglecting the well being of humanity? An interview on Democracy Now with a 15 year old climate ambassador from the Maldives stopped me cold the other day. “Would you commit murder?” he asked. “On the basis that you know what you’re doing is wrong and you can see that the victim is begging for mercy and for you to stop what you’re doing, yeah, would you commit murder?” He goes on to point out that the excesses of many countries, and the individual inhabitants of those countries, is destroying the homes and lives of people all over the world.
While I wish our leaders would Do the Right Thing, that doesn’t stop me from choosing to find my way to that place personally. Wendell Berry writes that we have a moral imperative to acknowledge what he calls the crisis of character that is at the root of climate change. “Once our personal connection to what is wrong becomes clear,” he says, “then we have to choose: we can go on as before, recognizing our dishonesty and living with it the best we can, or we can begin the effort to change the way we think and live.”
For each of us, that effort will be unique. What matters is that we begin it, in both small and large ways. That we take every conceivable step towards a life in which we cease choosing our own comfort and ease over the basic survival of our fellow man. For us, this means choosing simplicity in all of its blessed abundance. It means returning to the basics of homemade food, used clothes and housewares, local foods, and reducing our use of energy and oil in every way we can. In many ways this is the beginning of a new life for us, one that is both transformative and restorative. As citizens, re-orienting our daily lives to such a compass will help steer our nation and world into a sustainable future.
::Check out the Hopenahgen website for a bit of the silver lining of the climate talks, that is, the millions of people from every corner of the globe sharing their hope and transforming it into collective action.
350 Vigil
Awake Thou Sleepers and Hear Us This Day and In the Days to Come
(prayer spoken in unison by all who gathered on the steps of the New Mexico State Capitol this eve of December 12, 2009)
That we speak for Mother Earth, for Father Sky, for our Children, all children everywhere, and all children yet to come, for Trees and Plants, for Animals, for our Ancestors:
Awake thou sleepers, Hear Us!
We call on you to join hands with the rest of creation. To speak of common sense, Responsibility, Respect, Equity, Justice, and Peace.
Awake!
Now is the time to act to proctect our children’s legacy, to uphold the laws of regeneration and walk the path of life.
Awake!
Climate change is no distant or abstract threat, but a clear and present danger to us all. We call on you to act, and act now.
Awake!
Because only as true partners can we survive.
Awake!
We the Peoples of the Earth promote Earth Democracy and will work on behalf of the Seventh Generation yet to come. Climate change is no distant or abstract threat, but a clear and present danger to us all. We call on you to act.
Awake!
Give thanks for all that sustains us!
Awake!
Act in right relationship and in respect to all.
Awake all ye sleepers.
When we walk upon Mother Earth, we always plant our feet carefully because we know the faces of our future generations are looking up at us from beneath the ground. We never forget them.
::
Dedicated to the Pacific Island States of Tuvalu, Maldives, Kiribati, and al the others who are without homes or soon to be because of our inaction. Please forgive us.
Santa Fe, New Mexico
12 December 2009
Awake! Declaration of Right Relationship
Written by Chief Oren Lyons, Bobbe Besold, and Dominique Mazeud
For more information on what the number 350 means, and the activism happening under that banner, click here
The Heart of Change
As leaders and delegates from 190 countries gather in Copenhagen to hopefully steer our world back into something like balance, I can’t help but bring this goal home to the individual heart. After all, creating a sustainable future means much more than just shifting our relationship to carbon. While I know how crucial the work being done on this political and economic level is, I also consider it the tip of the iceberg. Same goes for the plastic free experiment underway here at our house. As momentous as it sometimes feels, it is just a starting point. From there the layers begin to peel off, revealing the many ways in which this journey is first and foremost about heart. About learning to live mindfully, carefully, and gratefully. My father reminded me just how deep it is possible to go when he shared this with me yesterday:
“May your quest for a plastic free world unwrap itself and reveal its timeless recipe. There are many ways to keep things fresh in this world. One simple method that I’m learning is to bring myself to love the other the same as I love myself. The friction of such learning is causing the tight plastic cover that has enveloped me to soften and to begin dissolving itself.”
Many prayers that all those in Copenhagen, and all of us in our corners of the globe experiencing our share of the human experience learn, gently and surely, to do the same.
Kyce Bello 
