I gave an introduction to zero waste in a post last year and would like to explore further how one can implement zero waste principles. To this end, I interviewed Erin, a former client, on the zero waste path.

Last year, I wrote about seeing plastic waste wash up on a beautiful island. The immediate visual impact of those two unlikely images coalescing was harsh, and the repercussions can be daunting and haunting.

We’ve all been in social situations where we’re suddenly struck by a moment of awkwardness, or strange silence. It feels like something has gone wrong or we’ve mistakenly turned into a dead end. Then, we look for an action as a solution, forgetting that doing nothing is also an action.

In my previous post, I brought together two ideas: luxury and minimalism. If you’re with me on this path, you’ve started to see junk as junk and stuff as an obstruction to a more luxurious lifestyle.

I’ve always been enamored with hotels. Even the mid-range ones seem special too me. I feel like a kid when I first enter one, even on a business trip. Taking a quick run and bounce on the bed, I immediately feel refreshed. There is something about a sparse space of which I am clearly fond. 

If you really think about it, you’d be happy with a lot less. The problem is, you don’t stop to pay attention.

One tool to exercise against the accumulation and retention of material items is the guidance of Buddhism. While a religion to some, it is also an insightful list of lessons for the human mind’s unhelpful tendencies.

There is a plethora of beautiful things in this world. You don’t need to own them, but admiring is (typically) free. 

There are multiple layers to the fight against “stuff.” We must look closely at all of them: unneeded memorabilia, too many clothes, the way we overcomplicate our lives, large houses that cement excess, and everyday throwaway items.

My job is to get rid off things. Some things to the recycling bin, some in the donations box, some to friends or family. It’s a thousand little good-byes. They are quite easy for me. It’s other peoples’ stuff.

When you help people downsize and organize, "before and after" photos seem to be the language. But I am resistant. Anyone can make a space look clean and clear. This can be done after a legitimate overhaul or by moving things out of the way for a photo shoot.

The theme of freedom is strongly present in my life, often as a driving force in my decision making. With July 4th, freedom and independence come in the form of patriotism. I'd like to reflect on the way the two are intertwined.

A few weeks ago, I loaded my necessities into a Mammut 30 liter backpack.

In my last post, My March Madness, Part 1, I recounted how I approached my most recent paring down of stuff, post-post move. It was a reminder that with changing day-to-day needs, our material goods should be re-evaluated.

Through my On Memories post, I tried to convey the nature of memories intertwining with the tangible; the way the past can feel like brick and cement. This type of letting go is something we all face, whether we are moving or simply paring down.

I recently completed the book, The Power of Habit, masterfully conceived by Charles Duhigg. It clearly outlines how habits rule our lives, and how to change them. I often consider how the transition to a minimalist lifestyle is simply a transition of habits; replacing one trigger with a new routine to achieve a similar resulting sensation.

One of the most compelling lessons I learned from ecology is that, with the exception of humans, nature does not waste.

My true love of minimalism fully unfolded in 2002 when I took a semester off from college to travel. There was a romantic fantasy around the idea of galavanting across Australia, New Zealand, and parts of Europe. I wanted to "be" a backpacker; my life thoughtfully and efficiently packaged and hung on my shoulders.

I have another confession to make: I once bought a reusable glass water bottle for about $20. 

I spent 30 years washing my hair with shampoo and conditioner. First with products that contained chemicals, and then the organic variety. All came in plastic bottles. All seemed as necessary as wearing clothes and brushing my teeth.