Prized Possessions or Junk?

This is a reprint of an article I wrote for my main blog, Writer Extroidinaire, but I felt like it could be of some help to people having a hard time letting things go in their quest for Zero Waste.


I used to be a pack-rat, and in a horrible way. I would save programs that had my name on them, not because the event was special, but just because the piece of paper had my name on it. When I moved out on my own for real (to an apartment, not just a college dorm), I decided that I wanted to have all my stuff in my house with me. Then I realized how much stuff I had, and spent a month getting rid of a lot of it.

This first round of simplifying and decluttering was easy; there were tons of books I didn't particularly like, clothes I didn't wear or attach sentimental value to, and slips of paper with my name on them that I could get rid of with ease. I got rid of a third of my stuff with no guilt at all, and moved the rest over to my tiny apartment.

Over the next few years I was able to slowly go through a box at a time and downsize my collections. I religiously read unclutterer.com to keep myself motivated and inspired. Occasionally if I had fond memories of something but didn't need it in physical form I would take a picture of it. My Scottie dog sweater from second grade makes me smile, but I get just as much happiness from looking at a picture of it as I do from holding it, so I donated the sweater and keep the picture, which takes up no space at all on my hard drive. This picture taking habit served as a useful and justified crutch, and I was steadily making my way towards a streamlined household that only contained things I loved, used, and could store and care for in a respectful manner.

Then I got evicted. It happened with little warning, when I had no safety net, and for reasons that had very little to do with my qualities as a tenant. My apartment was the first real home I had made for myself, and losing it hurt. A lot. Worse, compounding my problem of having no money, no place to live, and very little time to solve both of these problems, was the fact that I still had boxes of stuff left to evaluate.

With everything happening at once I got rid of stuff. A lot of stuff. I opened all the boxes before I donated them, but that was about it. I panicked, and made a bad situation worse by getting rid of stuff that I used and loved. Moving from a hundred and fifty square feet of apartment to fifty square feet of storage unit and whatever could fit in my car made me freak out and get rid of clothes, books, and project materials that I wasn't really ready to part with.

In an effort to clear out my life's problems, I made a list of everything I needed to live. A tiny wardrobe, a few cooking necessities, and the barest bones of hobby material. Artwork, fun-but-impractical clothing, childhood treasures; none of these things made the list, and so a lot of them got donated. My bright orange coat that made me look like a pumpkin when I wore it was donated, despite the fact that I loved wearing it, and was even designing a leaf hat to enhance the pumpkin look. A juicer that I didn't use on a daily basis was listed on freecycle, even though I was steadily increasing my juicing efforts. A typing table that was tiny but faithfully useful was given away, even though it left me with no place to write.

After the purge, when I had finally settled with my fiance at his parents' house, I started to feel guilty and remorseful. Yes, I got rid of some stuff that I would have gotten rid of anyway, and the fact that I managed to take time to donate or recycle everything brought me some comfort, but the fact of the matter was I'd gotten rid of too much too fast. My anxiety and depression turn this into a worse problem than it actually is, but the situation of losing things that were useful and loved remains.

And here is where this post falls apart, because here is where I am right now. I have a lot less stuff, but now the worry of not having it is replacing the worry of having it. I'm slowly beginning to realize that it was never about the stuff in the first place. I'm worrying because I still really don't have a home, years of work to improve my life was blown to hell in less than a month, and things that enhanced and improved my life are now gone. I can (and do) replace some of the best things on e-bay (let's just say I'm knitting myself a green leaf hat for winter), and the rest I'm starting to realize wasn't that important to begin with. Sure, my Chi hair straightener will cost a lot to replace, but the likely-hood that I'll ever need to do that is small, since I wear my hair short now. And in the case of sentimental objects, I try to remember that releasing them back into the universe to give others joy is a lot better than losing them in a natural disaster, or even than letting them molder away quietly in a box sealed for safekeeping.

If I could do it all over again, I'd definitely do things differently, but I'm living well now with what I have, I'm doing well replacing gnawing guilt with simple regret, and I'm learning to love myself regardless of what I own or what bad decisions I've made. Plus, I'll always have pictures of my favorite dinosaur friends.

Step Eight: Write Things Down

I love lists, calendars, and notebooks. My fiance might accuse me of being obsessed with them, but I like to think that I am just well-organized. I consider my network of paper and computer files a way to outsource basic tasks so I can free up brain-power to work on more difficult problems (like how to get Ghirardelli to package their delicious chocolate squares in biodegradable cellophane, rather than the plastic-based packaging they use now. I'm not ready to give up my daily chocolate square). By writing things down, I don't have to devote mental energy to remembering them, I simply make checking my notes a regular part of my day.

If writing isn't your thing you can always draw stuff.

This is all well and good from an organizational and productivity standpoint, but it also significantly helps me in my zero-waste lifestyle. By keeping an updated calendar it's easier for me to take the bus or walk places, rather than have to drive there in a rush when I realize I'm half an hour late. Knowing what I'm going to do on any given day allows me to prepare with the necessary tote bags, take-out containers, or biodegradable poop bags (for the dogs, fyi). Keeping track of errands I need to run lets me do them all at once and save on gas, rather than one at a time. Most importantly, writing things down helps me keep undesired junk and garbage out of my house; I have a list of what items I need to get, gifts I know people will like, and business websites to check out. That eliminates unnecessary purchases, saves me time in stores, and lets me refuse flyers and freebies while maintaining confidence that I'll remember to follow up on products or services I like.

Of course, living in the marvelous time that we do, one needn't carry any paper at all; most of this information can be contained on a single smartphone kept in a pocket. For those of us on the poorer end of the spectrum, or for those who maintain their suspicions about Skynet, a single notebook makes an affordable, handy alternative. I used to carry over half a dozen notebooks everywhere with me to keep track of my finances, ideas, to-do lists, calendar, knitting patterns, journaling, and school-work. But recently, with the addition of a kindle and completion of school I've been able to slim my notebooks down to one Moleskine, which I make tabbed sections in for finances, ideas, and calendar items. I journal through the rest of the book, keep fleeting, impermanent notes on post-its that I've stuck inside the cover, and keep track of my to-do lists on separate index cards which are held in the back pocket. This sounds complicated, but in practice it's become quite easy and works well for me, as I now need to carry only one notebook, leaving more room in my bag for other things, and helping to correct my spinal oddities.

It's very satisfying to see stuff get done.

Though I'm convinced my system is the best, I acknowledge that this likely isn't the case. Many people feel more comfortable carrying a planner, maintaining their finances online, using a single sheet of paper for to-do lists, or keeping reminders of things on the  front of their refrigerator. Some people find lists distracting and would rather just do things as they come up. Many families find that a large communal calendar with a section for notes keeps everyone coordinated.

No matter what system you find works best for you, I'd definitely recommend at least writing down appointments you have to keep, and things you need to do. Think of your brain's frontal cortex as a small table; you can do infinite activities on this table, but your innovation and flexibility decrease dramatically when clutter fills up the table. If you're trying to remember to call your Aunt Minnie while you're working on a report for your boss, it's like having a picture of your aunt and a large telephone on the table while you're using a typewriter, reading through previous reports, looking at a picture of your possibly angry boss, and going through stacks of charts, graphs, and other information you need to write the report in the first place.

As much as we like to think we can multitask, we really can only do one thing well at a time (possibly two, if one is a physical activity and the other is mental, but that's about the limit). By making a note outside of your brain to call Aunt Minnie, you free space on your tabletop to focus on what you're doing, which also allows you do it well.  Unfortunately, mental notes don't help in this situation, because it's like putting the telephone and picture of your aunt on your lap--sure, it's not in your real work-space, but it's still cluttering up your unconscious mind and hindering your ability to work at your best.

Nothing says you can't be colorful.

By writing down appointments to keep and tasks to do, you'll better be able to evaluate your needs and plan your day. Additionally, it's easier to see the nonphysical waste in your life when you write it down. I didn't enjoy watering my lawn, so I got rid of the lawn, freeing up my time for more enjoyable pursuits, like tending to the food garden I used the space for instead. Likewise, I found that keeping up with my family is important to me, and so I gave up some television time in order to write everybody once a month. Lastly, my time isn't eaten up with the nagging feeling that I've forgotten something at the grocery store or missed a doctor's appointment. When I outsource things to my notebook, I know where to look to make sure everything gets done, instead of wondering about it and dawdling while I try to think.

Arguably, using paper to write things down may be wasteful, but most types of paper are recyclable, and the rest is usually biodegradable (I compost my post-it notes), and I feel the benefits far outweigh the negatives. By writing things down I free up precious space in my brain, have a centralized location to check what I need to do for the day, and allow myself  to stay on track by jotting notes about to-do items that float through my head and then return to the primary task. I promise you, establishing the habit of writing things down, in whatever form you choose, will help you significantly to have a happy, remarkable, waste-free life.

First time reading about a hundred steps to zero waste? Go here for the introduction and index.

Step Seven: Perfect Your Wardrobe

On the day of the Oscars, when so many of us are focused on who wore what and how well, I think it might be fitting to turn the focus inwards and find our own sense of style. We don't always have stylists, make-up artists, and thousands of dollars at our disposal, but that doesn't mean we can't look and feel fabulous every day. When you find your personal style, whether it's regarding what you like to cook with to how you like your hair, you can breeze through life feeling confident and  put together.

It took me almost a decade to find my style, and to be self-assured enough to follow it in everything I do. There was a lot of research, journaling, and trial and error involved, but now when I do purchase something, I know it will serve me well for years, and I'll love using it. I don't need to constantly unclutter, and caring for my things is a joy, rather than a chore. Best of all, being a gatekeeper has become second nature. I already know if I'll like something when it is offered to me, so I don't bring unnecessary things into my home.

Of course, while finding your style will touch all parts of your life, it's easiest to start with your wardrobe. Picking out what you wear sets the mood for the rest of your day, and communicates to others the kind of person you are. Whether you have a uniform like Steve Jobs, a sense of adventure like Carrie Bradshaw, or a focus on comfortable functionality like Hilary Clinton, owning a stylized, organized wardrobe will speed your morning along, relieve frustration over what to wear, and allow you to live your life in clothes that make you happy.

Everyone has a different style, so everyone will have to discover their style in their own way. However, it helps a lot if you do these things:

1.  Pull out the clothes, shoes, and accessories you love. Look at what these things have in common, how you like to use them, and how they make you feel. Now pull out some things you don't like, or even hate. Ask yourself why they don't work for you, if there are ever situations in which you'd wear them, and how they made it into your closet in the first place. Keep these common themes and answers in mind as you evaluate the rest of your wardrobe. For example, I love a long sleeved shirt I have because I can dress it up or down, layer it well, and it's easy to wash. I dislike a bra my sister handed down to me because it doesn't fit me right, is white (so it shows dirt easily), and is padded (I usually don't want to enhance my bust). Looking at these things lets me know that I want things that fit well, allow me to get dirty, and work in a variety of situations.

2.  Think about what fashion pictures you've seen and admired. For most of us, this means looking through a magazine, but you might find your sartorial inspiration online, through the television, or from things you've seen people wear in real life. Ask yourself what you're drawn to, what you already have in your closet, and why you like the things you do. Though most sources won't advise you to collect clothes for a life you don't have, I think it's alright to dress for your aspirations, as long as you're actively working towards them. For example, I don't often wear heels, but I still own a few beautiful pairs, because when I want to look amazing for an event, I tend to pull my look from the pages of Vogue, where everyone is incredibly, impractically, beautiful..

3.  Now that you've examined your stylistic tendencies a little bit, let's dive into your closet. Ideally you'll have all your clothing clean and in one room, but I had to go through several stages of decluttering to pare down my closet, so if you have to make more than one sweep, I promise I understand. Pull out any clothes that you don't like, that don't fit you, or that are irreparable. These can be donated, recycled as rags, or composted if they're made of natural fibers like cotton or wool. Empty the pockets, slip them off the hangars, and put these clothes directly in bags or boxes labeled with their intended destination. Remember not to donate any clothing to charity that is unwearable, as this taxes thrift store resources unnecessarily. In my own wardrobe, I had a few sweaters given to me by my father for Valentine's day. I love my dad, and the thought he puts into his gifts, but I never wore the sweaters, and was not fond of them. Letting go of them was hard at first because of the sentiment involved, but the guilt that weighed me down every time I saw them was huge, so I decided to release them into the world, and focus on my good relationship with my dad, rather than a few misguided but well-intentioned presents.

4.  Since all the clothing you dislike and cannot wear are now gone, the rest of your wardrobe may think it's safe, but it's wrong. Now you'll want to pull out anything that doesn't match the rest of your clothing, any duplicates that you don't use (white shirts are prime suspects), and any clothes that you haven't worn in more than a year. Some clothes get away with being worn less than that, like swimsuits if you haven't been swimming since your vacation in 2007, or a tuxedo that only gets worn to formal occasions, but these garments are few and far between, as well as easy to recognize. Getting rid of clothes for these three reasons may seem hard at first, but with a little practice you'll be able to do it without much effort, and I promise you'll notice quickly how a little culling on these guidelines will produce big results in how you look and feel. For example, I had eight pairs of pants that I was able to pare down to three, because they were all a similar color and cut.  Though they all looked good on me, it was a waste of time every morning to try and decide which wide-leg navy blue pants to wear. By eliminating the duplicates, I now save time, know exactly which pair to reach for, and have no trouble with storage space.

5.  Last of all, maintaining your wardrobe is key. Only bring clothes into your home that flatter you and which you love wearing. Keep your clothes clean and in good repair. Set up clothes systems which you will actually use to store your clothes in, rather than just tossing them on the floor or over a chair. As time passes, you may note that a certain garment doesn't get worn. Feel free to donate it if it's not earning it's keep.  Likewise, if you notice that you have a need for an item, find a version you love and that matches the rest of your wardrobe, and wear the  hell out of it. In a well-selected closet, all your pieces will work with others, suit your needs, and make you feel great every time you put them on. Last August was the first time I've purchased a piece of clothing in over a year, but I bought a purple cardigan that I wear several times a week and love to death. It matches the rest of my clothes, and because it was a carefully considered purchase, I have no doubt  that my money and effort were well-spent.

When I work on anything, I like to remember that perfection is reached when nothing can be added, and nothing can be taken away. I love all the clothes I have, and though my closet is full, I couldn't do without any of them. Perfection will mean a different number of clothes and combinations for everyone, but you'll know you've gotten there when getting dressed feels easy and fun.

First time reading about a hundred steps to zero waste? Go here for the introduction and index.

Garbage in Space!

Who knew that space junk was already such a problem? I figured we'd reach a cluttered state sooner than later (remember Wall-e?), but it turns out sooner is now.

 There's not really a lot private citizens can do to lessen our garbage in space, but I think just working to build a zero waste mindset would help us learn to leave no trace, whether we're discovering nature while camping or exploring our universe on a starship.

 

One Reason to Go Zero Waste

Reusable Egg Cartons

In my zero waste quest, I've found it frustrating to constantly be saving old egg cartons, only to have them crushed or sullied by everyday wear and tear. I'm sure I'm not the only one looking for a sturdy, washable, reusable egg carton, so I scoured the internet and found these options. Enjoy.

From anthropologie.com:
A beautiful, stoneware, dishwasher-safe egg crate. It's not going to be great for transporting eggs, but it looks wonderful for displaying them. Kind of like a fruit basket, but for eggs. $14.00

From mypetchicken.com:
Ceramic egg holders in six and twelve count that were featured on Martha Stewart. Dishwasher and microwave safe. $8.50 and $13.50. This site also has a nice selection of egg baskets, that's your fancy (good for collecting your own eggs, but it doesn't look practical for taking things to and from the market)(honestly this whole site looks great for anyone looking to raise their own chickens).

From amazon.com:
Lock and lock makes a plastic egg container very similar to a standard egg carton. It has high reviews, comes with free super-saver shipping, and curiously comes in prices of either $11.98 or $6.40, though both prices appear to be for the same product. There is also an InterDesign egg holder for $14.64.

 Kikkerland also makes a ceramic egg rack, also available on amazon. $11.67

From containerstore.com:
The container store makes a plastic egg container built to allow you to keep eggs in the fridge, but also stack things on top of it. That probably means it's sturdy enough to make it to the farmer's market and back. $7.99

From summitcampinggear.com, or in any camping store (or camping section of a store; even Walmart has these):
Camper's pack their eggs in these little containers to take hiking, rafting, or riding. They don't look very attractive (at least to me), but they get the job done. $4.95

From etsy.com:
This isn't an egg carton, but it is a tote bag that's long enough to hold one (or several), unlike the reusable bags I have now. Couple this with one of the plastic egg cartons above, and you're ready to shop. About $15.

I also came across this little internet anecdote that I thought was a neat, old-world way of packaging eggs:


    "This probably wouldn't be any more legal than used egg cartons, and would also be more of a hassle to use, but my DH has told me of the "Egg Man" who delivered eggs when DH was a child in Germany.  The eggs were wrapped in newspaper - 4 or 5 laid side by side, and the paper rolled up around them, and the ends twisted - I envision the little package looking like a large piece of wrapped salt water taffy"

How to Pay for Zero Waste

Going zero waste will eventually reduce your household expenses (by a lot), but getting there requires an initial investment that can be intimidating. I live far below the poverty line, so collecting the change to pay for cloth towels, diva cups, food storage containers, and other reusables was daunting at first, but soon snowballed into an easy process as I saved money by not buying all those disposables in the first place. You can go about acquiring the things you need for zero waste any way you like, but this is the simple system I like to recommend.

Stop buying the things listed in order. Either use the standard, reusable version, or go without it. Put the money you would have spent on that product in a piggy bank, where you can save up for the more expensive zero waste replacements.Good luck, and remember to contribute to your pig regularly.

1. Garbage bags. Just carry the can out to the dumpster and empty it. You won't have to worry about sticky, stinky things as long as you're composting, and you can always give your garbage can a quick rinse if it needs it. $1 a week.
2. Paper plates and plastic utensils. Washing dishes isn't that hard, and has much less impact on the earth. $2 a week.
3. Paper towels and napkins. Use rags, dish towels, cloth napkins, and Bird-e towels instead (see replacement resource list) $2 a week.
4. Soda, smoothies, and coffee. Replace with water (free), or buy them if you must, but use a reusable cup or water bottle. Most places will give you at least a nickel off the price if you supply the container. $0.10--$20 a week. 
5. Ziploc bags, saran wrap, and paper lunch bags. Use cloth sandwich wraps, Tupperware, and other food storage options. $1--$5 a week.
6. Bathroom sundries, like Q-tips, cotton balls, nail files, cotton rounds, and paper cups. $2--$10 a week.
7. Tampons and menstrual pads. $5--$10 a month.
8. Toilet paper. I know this sounds gross, but cloth wipes clean better, feel nicer, and are lighter on the planet. A lot of people use them for #1 only, which is a great way to lessen your toilet paper use without worrying about the grossness factor. $1--$5 a week.
9. Packaged and processed food. Oreos are crazy expensive compared  to homemade cookies. (if you don't have bulk bins in your area, try to buy the largest size package you can, and focus on dry goods rather than canned) $5--$50 a week.
10. Batteries. These are expensive and wasteful, especially if you go through them quickly. $5--$10 a month.

Once your savings pig is good and fat, start buying reusable versions of disposable things, in order of importance/highest cost to you. Things I like:

• Unpaper towels. This particular kind is the best paper towel and napkin replacement I've ever used. I couldn't do without them.
• Shopping bags
• Produce bags (though some people prefer these kind)
• Water bottle
• Travel mug
• Pyrex food storage set. Use up your leftovers regularly, and you'll never need another set. 
• Ziploc bag replacement
• Tea bag replacement (buying loose tea is so much more fun than boxed and bagged tea)
• Dish sponges
• Handkerchiefs (or get this ingenious little HankyBook if you don't want to worry about folding and keeping track of clean spots on a cloth square)
• Cotton ball replacements
• Menstrual pad replacements
• For great menstrual cup recommendations, go to this site for sizing information, as various brands fit differently. 
• Reusable toilet paper 
• I don't have children, but I would recommend these diapers based on a friend's experience and my love of their menstrual pads.
• Plastic drinking straw replacements
• Battery charger. This guy will charge all kinds of batteries, will discharge them (for storage; helps prolong battery life), will charge one battery at a time if needed, and tells you whether or not batteries are charged. 

There are lots of other disposable things that can be replaced, but these are the ones I was buying most often before going zero waste, and which I saved the most money from replacing. If you're lucky enough to be able to buy these in one trip, go for it, but if not, I hope the idea of snowballing your savings helps you in acquiring the little things that make a zero waste life easier.