Adventures in Zero Waste: The Plastic Purge

It always starts with a book. I don’t know whether it’s the librarian in me, or the dreamer, but my insatiable appetite for the written word finds me attempting to better myself once again.

So. This book.  I picked it up off the shelf at the bookstore, and made a random note to find it at the library. It looked a bit like a home-decor book, and was shelved alongside the design and gardening books. I didn’t think much about its ability to change my life.

I guess I’d heard of zero waste before, but I hadn’t quite transferred the concept to my home. When I read about Bea, and her family’s journey to zero waste, I felt challenged. There is someone else actually doing this. It can be done. And the question became, not, “how could I do this?” but “how could I not do this?”

Much like the purchase of our angora rabbits (brought on by another book), I ran with my enthusiasm. And, without further ado, I started.

My first challenge was to look at how I grocery shopped. I saw an immediate problem here. Particularly, as it was winter (no farmer’s market, scant availability of convenient local foods), I had let some of my usual food-conscience relax. The first time I went grocery shopping after diving into the book, I will admit I was actually shocked by the amount of plastic I brought home. Everything I bought (from apples, to pasta, to lentils and cauliflower) was wrapped in plastic. Bringing my own bags to the store (as I always do) was almost laughable, considering the amount of packaging that was coming home with me.

I started small. One day, I brought a glass container to the meat store, and kindly asked for them to put my meat inside. Bless the saleslady, she didn’t look at me too weirdly. My first success!

Another day, I set out with a glass jar to use at the fresh-ground peanut butter machine at the local health foods store. Sorting out how to account for the weight of my jar was a little tricky. But, it was doable!

The next time, emboldened by my success, I lined up my beautiful glass jars, wrote all of the tares (weights) on their lids, and set out. The fiasco at the checkout was what I’ll call a set-back. The local organic health foods store was wonderfully patient, but when I asked what the best way to do this in the future would be, the kind answer was, essentially, please don’t.

Thus far, I had learned a few things.

1. Make your own cloth bags for bulk items. Fussing with the extra weight of jars was not practical, or welcome.

2. Finding ways to buy in bulk, sans packaging, was essential.

3. In short, I needed to change my buying habits if I was going to make this work.

I began a grocery store audit. I shopped at three of our local large grocery chains, and the one organic foods store to see how each would rate.

Some were definitely better than others. One had more items in bulk. Another had more un-bagged organic fruits and vegetables. The organic store had the option of paper bags for bulk & veggies – for which I was very thankful. But the pre-packaged bulk foods were all in plastic baggies. And, although they had milk in bottles, it is clear you pay a premium for this service.

Two weeks ago, as I was sharing my plight with an acquaintance, she let me in on a little secret. One of my favourite local farms from the market grows year-round (in a wood-heated greenhouse). And they deliver! I now receive all my veggies (and am even able to get milk in a jar at a slightly lower price) through her! Last week, I asked her about not delivering in plastic bags, and, instead of looking at me strangely (something I’ve been getting very used to), she said many of her customers feel the same. They get deliveries in a re-useable box instead! So, this week, that will be me!

As for bulk dried goods, I’ve been re-using paper for the past few weeks. It’s been working until I can sit down and make myself some more cloth ones.

I’m still searching for zero-waste meat and cheese alternatives (that don’t include buying in tiny quantities from a deli), but I’m making strides. I’m on my way to eliminating buying veggies & fruit in plastic. This week, I intend to save money buying extra milk in a jar and making yogurt with it. The savings from my homemade yogurt (which is easy to make and delicious, anyways), should make up for the extra cost of milk (thanks to my sister for the idea). I have a pretty good rotation of grocery bags in my home and car, so I never have to resort to plastic (although I do need more mesh produce bags). And, I’m getting braver at refusing receipts (pretty sure it’s the polite Canadian in me that finds this so hard).

Anyways, the point it, it’s coming. And every little victory feels so good. There is something so wonderfully, oddly, satisfying, in conscious shopping. Alongside the many environmental benefits, zero-waste shopping is fun. It’s empowering. And, it’s kind of addicting.

My suggestion. Try it! You never know just how far it might take you.

The Paradox of Wanderlust

Wanderlust has hit again.  It started with a book (as it always does for me).  The Art of Non-Conformity, written by Chris Guillebeau.  A fantastic handbook on living a life outside the box.  The author himself is currently engaged in travelling to every country in the world.  Then, I read about the book, Vagabonding, by Rolf Potts.  Requested it from the library… read it until it was due (arghh).  Then, my husband brings home, Book Lust To Go by Nancy Pearl (arguably North America’s most famous living librarian).  It’s a book of travel booklists.

I love booklists.

I spent the weekend, first with a wonderful old friend that I had backpacked with 12 (twelve!) years ago, and with my parents, who are getting ready for a riverboat cruise in Europe.

It’s been enough to make my mind feel like a pinball machine.

So, I ask myself these questions: can a mother really travel with her kids?  (Yes, I know it can be done).  Can this mother really travel with her kids?  Should I even attempt it? (After “travelling” overnight to my parents with them, I feel exhausted and just a little daunted).

And, supposing I could, there would still be one problem… summed up by this quote I remember reading once, “Wherever you go, there you are.”  Which can mean many things to many people, but, to me, at this point, means just one thing.  You get on a plane, thinking to have the adventure of a lifetime, and when you get there, you discover you are still in your own shoes.  Still very much in your own mind.  You haven’t left one thing behind.  Oddly, the plane ride hasn’t changed you.

I distinctly remember having this feeling upon flying into Scotland (wait…thirteen!!?) years ago.  How very surreal it was to be in Scotland, and to still be me.  Feeling very much like me, in a different place.  I can only say, it was a bit unnerving.  Of course, I got used to it.  And the trip was amazing.  But, it lost just a touch of its magic by having me there… Am I making any sense?  Like it all felt too normal.  Too weirdly comfortable.

The contrast between the dreams and plans I had made, and the reality of myself.

I am older now, and I am prepared for this, what I am dubbing “the paradox of wanderlust.”  Lusting after an experience, something that forces us to step outside of ourselves.  Only, of course, there is no outside.  Only us in a new setting.  And, yes, there is change.  But, it happens gradually, on the inside.  In our hearts and minds.  It isn’t magic, but it is meaningful.

I’m pretty sure I’m rambling at this point (not entirely sure I’m even using the word paradox correctly).  Wondering if anyone else has experienced this themselves?  Or mulled on it?  And what does it mean to bring ourselves on our most anticipated adventures?  Are we dampened or enlightened by the company?  Next time, I’m hoping for the latter.  So, I’ll continue plodding along on the path to self-improvement.

Hey, besides, next time, I’ll be bringing two little souls with me, and I’ll take a gander that I won’t have many moments for quiet self-reflection.  If I’m lucky, I may not even notice I’m there.

So, I think I’ll end with the quote that brought all this on.  Thanks to Nancy Pearl for sharing it.  Although, I think I like myself a fair bit more than Ralph did himself, thankfully.

Traveling is a fool’s paradise… I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me is the stern fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from.  – Ralph Waldo Emerson

So, I know at least one other person (and a person of consequence at that!) has felt the paradox (how I love literature).

If you’ve made it to the end here, thanks for bearing with me.  Comments are always appreciated!

Beauty in the Discovery: Following Whims & Passions

First off, I am at the conclusion of a wonderful day.

I spent the day with my children, enjoying the Canada Day celebrations in our town (happy birthday, Canada!).  For some reason, I felt centred today.  Relaxed and able to embrace things like dawdling (and having to carry my 3 year old around), making lunch (actually enjoying the down time of preparing a healthy meal for my family) and having no particular purpose or goals for our time (outside of enjoying ourselves).  Me at my best.  And (surprise, I know) I got my son at his best this way, too.  I can’t really recall, but I’m going to say it was a day without tantrums.

My last post was about re-focusing on my goals.  After all, tracking my goals is one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place.  So, to follow up, I took a look at the goals I have set for myself since the new year:

1. Create a creative space (a place in my home where I can feel inspired and do good creative work)

2. Daily tea ritual (enjoy a cup of tea, centre myself, and remind myself of what really matters, daily)

3. Carve out an hour a day for myself (most often I seem to use this to blog, or read)

4. Focus more on self-care (to stave off “dead-eyed Mom” syndrome)

5. Write poetry (an ode to my high school self)

6. Contribute to MCP Project 52 (in a effort to practice photography on a weekly basis)

7. Write a novel (in a month)

8. Start (and, presumably, continue) running (Hmm… maybe there’s a loophole here)

9. Write at night (after the kids are in bed – the only sane moment of my blissfully chaotic days)

10. Early to bed, early to rise (okay, I only flirted with this one, but darn if it doesn’t keep rearing it’s ugly head)

11. Write a guide for Canadian homeschoolers (a goal that has grown and morphed, but remains)

12. Chart my journey with the earth (as in, create greener habits, and keep track of my progress)

13. Embrace thrift (buy less, play more!)

14. Become a professional mom (but remain constantly learning)

15. Start a family nature club

16. (I think this is my favourite one) Remember to be constantly amazed!

Which brings me back to (do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti…)… my wonderful day.

I think I did it today – I remained constantly amazed.  I loved watching my kids interact with the world today.  I was present, and I so enjoyed their company.  For themselves.  As distinct and beautiful beings.  And, in doing so, I enjoyed myself so much more.

I recall, when starting out on this blog, that I wanted to live a life that followed both whims and passions.  Re-reading my goals for the year, I think I have happened upon just that.  I have delved into things I had only dabbled into before (nature appreciation, homeschooling, writing, personal health).  These whims have morphed into passions, and intersect in the most remarkable ways.

So, for the rest of the year, I will focus on those stated goals and habits I feel compelled to work on.  But, I will also remain open to new whims.  Because I couldn’t have predicted what life has thrown at me so far this year, and I don’t think I would have wanted to.  There has been so much wonder and beauty in the discovery.

And now for a (short) book recommendation.  Read Toot & Puddle: On Top of the World, by Holly Hobbie, and love how the random whims of these two pigs lead them to Nepal.  I hope to be so open to life’s adventures – both little and large.

And so.  How does goal-setting work for you?  Do you have an encouraging story of whims and passions to share?

The Nature Principle

I just finished reading Richard Louv‘s The Nature Principle.  I was privileged to hear him speak a few weeks ago, here in Vancouver.  As I told him then, his book, Last Child in the Woods, completely changed the way I want to parent.  After reading The Nature Principle, I can say, it has completely changed the way I want to live my life.

In fact, it has informed many of the sneaking suspicions that I have had for awhile now.

Suspicions like the feeling that I need to reconnect with nature.  I want that for my children, and myself.  Suspicions about my career path, and how I can add environmentalism / conservation / good old-fashioned love of nature to my life.  The suspicion that my time spent on a small island off the coast of Vancouver was one of the most enlightening times of my life.  And not just for the friendships I made.  For the time spent in nature.  The ocean breeze blowing off rocky cliffs; the sound of whales passing, their flukes slapping the waves; the trees, and the tall grasses.  The sound of birdsong, the sightings of deer and other forest creatures.  I can feel these things in my heart.

Our kids are named for the sea and the forest.

I have known about this nature connection for a long time.  But I have not known exactly what to do about it.  To be honest, I still don’t know.  I do know, however, that my mind is whirling.  Something I always consider a good thing.

For my family, I am going to join a family nature club (or start one – anyone interested?).  For myself, I am going to start loving my present landscape. Exploring it with a keener eye, and photographing it with my camera.  Those are two small steps.  But, I have a great feeling there will be more.  And I can hardly wait to find out where this will lead me.

So, shameless plug for a book that has the power to change lives and the world.  It’s dense, and choc-full of information.  Read it and be inspired.

Bonding With Place: Embrace or Move?

Working my way through The Nature Principle I have been struck by thoughts on place.  In other posts (here and here), I have blogged about my dissatisfaction with the suburban life I lead.  Sometimes I cringe at my surroundings (mainly when I enter “downtown” and the sea of box stores swells up before me).  Other times I lament the things that are missing here (adequate public transit, walkable green spaces).

A few days ago, I ran into a family I know who is moving to this town.  I caught myself telling them a few of those negatives (I can’t see the ocean, there are not enough trees in our playgrounds…).  But, I also realized that I have started to come to terms with my place.  Have even started to think of this place as mine.  To take some ownership.  We have lived here for almost 4 years, and I am just starting to accept it.

What is my reluctance to this place?  I live in Langley, British Columbia.  A beautiful suburb of Vancouver, in a unique transition between rural and urban.  It is still a place where you can find large areas of farmland, and stands of forest and riverfront.  It is also a place that has embraced the box store, and the suburban staples of  freshly mown lawns and uniform homes.  The town’s slogan should probably be, “a great place to raise kids.”  It is complete with community centres, activities galore, and lots and lots of families.  Until recently, I thought of it as a place Vancouverites went to die.  A compromise.  A holding place.  Not a home.

Reading The Nature Principle has given me a bit of perspective.  The author suggests that people don’t necessarily need to retreat to untouched nature to commune with nature.  To find happiness in place.  That happiness in place is, perhaps, a combination of acceptance and embracing.  Acceptance allows a person to truly see what is before them.  The Nature Principle, refers to our natural surroundings, things like native plants and features of the land.  I would like to expand this to include community and culture.  To see a place is to notice the best things about it.

I have started to do this in Langley.  For example, I have started to gain an appreciation for Langley’s farm culture.  The beauty of the expansive piece of farmland near our home, with the little bird houses on stakes surrounding it.  The fact that the food at our farmer’s market comes from our local farms. Farms I can visit, farms I drive by every day.  I have also started to enjoy the niche cultures in Langley.  The vibrant horse community.  The local arts community.  My husband has noticed the friendliness of the families here.  How strangers will stop and chat with you.  Something we didn’t experience nearly as much in the city.

Embrace?  I don’t think I have embraced yet.  Embracing, I think, involves planting.  Growing roots.  And becoming involved in change.  Devoting oneself to a place, and rather than lamenting its shortcomings, attempting to change them.  To love a place as you would a person.  Accepting its faults, but loving it just the same.  I do not, yet, feel rooted in this place.  But, perhaps I am starting to put down tentative feelers.

For one, I am starting to love my social community.  The people I know, and the web of community that surrounds me and my children.  The fact that we run into people we know wherever we go.  The fact that my child can go out into the park in our townhouse complex, and play with all of the neighbourhood kids.  The fact that the moms bond out there, too.

What if  I do as The Nature Principle suggests, and start to really notice the natural surroundings, too?  What if I start to bond with them in the same way? Would I find myself growing roots, by studying the plants in this area?  By familiarizing myself with the ecosystem that surrounds me?  Would I stop lamenting the lack of planning that goes into new parks, and start actively trying to change that?

The Nature Principle talks about finding your “it.”  The place that fills your heart and soul.  That just feels right.  I don’t know if Langley is my “it.”  Right now, I’d have to say, no.  But, maybe, just maybe, this is a matter of simply deciding to say, yes?

These are all questions I ask myself, as I wonder, when will I, if ever, begin to truly call this place home?

And you?  How do you bond with place?  And how long do you think it takes to fall in love with a new community?

Towards a Hybrid Mind

Yesterday I went to hear Richard Louv, author of Last Child in the Woods, speak in Vancouver. I picked up a few gems of information, and also picked up his new book, The Nature Principle. I’m sure his talk would have been even more inspiring had the event website given me the correct time (I did arrive in time to hear the last half).

Last Child in the Woods is a fantastic book about the way our children are missing out on critical experiences of nature. It changed and enlightened the way I want to parent my children.  I am hoping the Nature Principle will further affect the way I want to live my life.  So far, there is something fascinating on every page.

Like the study that found a 20 percent increase in a person’s attention span and memory after spending just one hour outside?  Or the newfound condition called, “continuous partial attention.”  Essentially, the effect of trying to do too many things at once – or focus on too many tasks, computer screens, thoughts etc.  At least, that’s my interpretation.  And I should know, because I’m pretty sure I’m in that state.  All the time.

Like, right now.  Typing my blog, thinking about what I read yesterday, listening for the alarm on the stove to go off (signalling that my chocolate brownies are ready to eat!), shoulders tight as I carry the tension of spending two hours trying to put my teething child to sleep… etc.  My mind often feels like it is going in circles.  Round and round and round.  Full of ideas, but arrested by lack of time.  There I am, listening to my child talking, and at the same time my mind is off, trying to figure out the latest WordPress formatting conundrum.  If that isn’t continuous partial attention, I don’t know what is.  (Luckily for both of us, my son rarely lets me get away with this.  If I drop the ball, and neglect to respond appropriately, he’ll be sure to call me on it).

Louv suggests that the more time we spend with technology, the more time we need to spend in the natural world.  To detox and reset.  Put ours mind at rest.  I, for one, am desperately in need of this.

Finally, he proposes that we need to develop a “hybrid mind” to thrive in today’s world.  That is, a mind that is both good at technology (because who can really exist without computers these days?  Rhetorical question, but I’m sure some of you can find an answer for that), and, immersed in the natural (substitute: real) world around us. That along with this techo-blitz we must strive to connect with nature in a way humans haven’t prioritized in a long time.

So, nature is the antidote to technology.  And, if our minds can surf both waves, we will be uniquely positioned to thrive in this world.

I like these thoughts.  They make sense to me.  Because, although more than half of me wants to find a woodland hideaway and make it my glorious home, I have a feeling that I’d have to take my computer with me… Is that horrible?