Recently in Simple Living Category
m o r e (taking note of the neighborhood) 
I've said before that if I don't take a walk pretty much every day, I feel bleh. Often, I take two, as breaks from work, as chances to move and look around.
As I recovered from surgery, and started venturing farther and farther, I came upon a stairway between two yards (my neighborhood is famous for stairs) where one homeowner told me a bunny lived, frolicking between the two wild spaces. It became a tradition to look for the pet bunny that seemed a part of nature as it roamed free. I go looking for that bunny numerous times a week. If I see him, I feel charmed. If I don't--I know I'll see him another time. (There he is in the photo.)
There are other hopeful things I've taken note of on my walks even in the midst of litter and batteries and dog poop and clogged storm drains. It just takes some looking.
Here are some:
*Two crazily, amazingly plumed chickens in a yard on the top of a very steep hill.
*A man who asked me if I'd lost keys who, when I replied no, said he was going to make a flyer and hang up the keychain with it for the person who did.
*Tens of nests in enormous ficus trees.
*While Los Angeles ranks last among major cities in terms of per capita open space, I'm lucky enough to have strip of park across the alley from my apartment with a couple of giant trees. There, I see hopeful interactions between dogs and their owners (even though I'm not really a dog person, I have a favorite black and white pooch who is a master at fetch--I swear he's a famous movie star) and parents with their kids and neighbors with other neighbors. My favorite moment was when a woman walked by me and thanked me for smiling.
*A young girl asking her grandma about growing tomatoes from a hanging pot in her backyard.
*A ramshackle container plopped in a strip of sidewalk grass growing huge bushels of chard and some garlic.
*Another apartment with what look to be squash coming up out front.
*Native plants going into the neighbor-initiatived Parkman Triangle.
*Sparrows using my solar water fountain for dips and drinks.
And I'm sure, many more to come as long as I'm looking.
And some neighborly resources for wherever you live:
Recently heard about Every Block, a news feed for your neighborhood. It has announcements, media mentions, events and photos for your block. I just learned that there's a bike ride every Saturday in May starting steps away from my place. Who knew? It's also a hub for more serious business like crime happenings and lost pets.
At SeeClickFix you can find and report blocked bike lanes, potholes, and broken windows.
Walk Score will rank your area for walkability and find you some nearby nooks you can get to on two feet.
And here's an article I wrote all about sites that help you share in your neighborhood.
What is hopeful in your neighborhood to take note of?
Tammy Strobel writes the blog Rowdy Kittens for "people who are living simple, authentic and uncluttered lives." Or who want to move in that direction. It is always enlightening reading.
As is her e-book, Simply Car-Free, in which she showcases so much great information on how much simpler life without a car can be. She includes nuts and bolts like must-have bike gear and how to avoid being smelly after a cycle-commute to work along with inspiration about how much money you'll save and health you'll create by opting for two wheels.
She's speaking from experience--she's been totally car-free for two years.
Here's what she had to say:
What was the final deal-maker in the big decision to sell your car(s)?
We sold our cars for two reasons: financial worries and we weren't using them enough. We shed our cars over a period of two years and it was one of our best financial moves. I didn't realize how much our cars cost until we seriously started considering going car-free. By selling our cars we've saved about $16,000 per year.
When we finally sold our second car we were still living in Davis, CA. I started a new job in Sacramento and began taking the train to work. The monthly costs to drive into the city and park my car were outrageous. So taking the train was a fantastic option. I was able to read or do work on the ride and then enjoy a beautiful morning walk to the office.
I wish I would have considered that option previously. I could have saved a lot of time and money.
What encouragement would you give someone who thinks, "No way, I could never say goodbye to four wheels"?
I said something similar a few years ago. I would encourage folks to push past their fears and give two wheels a try. Start off by doing a test run. For example, you might consider doing all your grocery shopping by bike or NOT driving within a 5 mile radius of your home.
You suggest ditching the car can actually connect to following your dreams. How?
Excellent physical and financial health are two reasons that I'm able to pursue my dreams. Selling our cars enabled us to pay off our debt and save a significant amount of money. If we still had 2 cars and $30,000 in debt, I would still be working in a cubicle.
Thanks to selling our cars and downscaling our lifestyle, I was finally able to start my own small business.
Has opting out of car ownership brought balance to your life? How so?
I didn't realize how much stress I was under until we sold the cars. They took up so much time and money. Plus I had gained a lot of weight because I drove everywhere. By biking around town, I've lost about 15 pounds.
Selling our cars and downsizing our lives has given us balance. We are more likely to travel, spend time with each other and pursue our hobbies. I'm not in such a hurry anymore. Rather than rushing from place to place, I'm savoring the details of life.
Favorite biking moment?
When we lived in Davis and Sacramento we spent a lot of time going on long bike rides (between 20 to 50 miles) on the weekends. Taking long day trips by bike is a great way to see natural beauty and relax. I'm looking forward to similar trips in Portland. The surrounding area is beautiful!
You can check out the book for yourself, as I did, if you're considering going car-free. I'm not there yet myself (still a one car/one scooter/ 2 bike partnership), but even if you're more like me and a car-lite kind of person, there's plenty of good stuff to help navigate daily life more simply, with fewer wheels.
m o r e (worms not waste)
The beginnng of a year brings a lot of talk about weight loss and as spring emerges, talk of the same in the context of bathing suits. But might this year be different? Knowing that one in eight Americans is food insecure makes me think more about the weight and mass of food waste than my own waistline.
There are some great resources on how to make your food last, like Love Food Hate Waste and Food Waste Fridays at The Frugal Girl--and following her lead, many other frugal-minded blogs.
And while not every kind of food scrap can go in the mix, composting is the best way to clean up one's food waste stream and get something fabulous in return (aside from feeling good about not wasting): compost! Pretty much the best fertlizer on the planet. And for free, after set up costs.
For those with backyard space, there's the compost pile or the compost bin. But for those of us in small spaces (and with little patience), there's vermicomposting. That's the kind where worms eat your garbage and, in just a few weeks, churn out castings (compost) and worm tea (fertilizer). And the bin might even fit under your kicthen sink--but I've got mine outside.
Worm bins like the one I have from Wriggly Ranch are inexpensive, made from recycled plastic, and easy to set up and use. And since worms eat their body weight everyday, they know just what to do with your carrot tops, stems, apple cores, eggshells, coffee grinds, leftover pasta and bread, paper, leaves, and grass clippings. Your plants, be they house or garden veggies, will thank you.
I used to have mine set up, but didn't have a shady enough spot for the critters to thrive. Now, with a new apartment, I've got a sun-shieled patio that's the perfect spot for my hundreds of tiny wiggling pets to do their thing.
Check out my 25th lim(b) project--vermicomposting--for all the details of how I set up my bin, and how you can set up yours.
For even more:
Do you compost?
m o r e (living small)
With our booming world population and the not so booming state of our economy, not to mention our air, land, and water, big is definitely no longer better.
I can't remember where I saw the blog, The Tiny Life, but I was immediately intrigued. I've written about at least one manifestation of a tiny house here at Less Is More (Balanced) before, but TTL's every post is about something tiny. Mostly houses and how to live with less, but all kinds of miniature movements and moments as well.
The blogger, Ryan, describes the tiny house movement this way:
"Simply put it is a social movement where people are downsizing the space that they live in. The typical American home is around 2600 square feet, while the typical small or tiny house is around 400 square feet. Tiny Houses come in all shapes, sizes and forms but they focus on smaller spaces, simplified living."
I'm really digging his post on Lucy's Love Shack featuring a renter with 371 square feet to work with. I love the little dog house under the bed and the mini stove (I used to have one like that, too!). It's spare and simple and inspiring.
And the one on foldable tables for large gatherings in a not so large space.
I'm sure there'll be more as I follow along from here on out.
And if you want to get together with people and build a tiny house, there are resources in his localize section.
Other tiny houses I've heard of: tiny texas and the Tumbleweed Tiny House Company.
My apartment is definitely small, but I'm not sure it it's tiny (maybe 800 sq. feet?). All I know is I don't want to live anywhere bigger!
Do any of you live in a tiny space? How I'd love to see photos!
Photo credit: Tumbleweed Tiny House Blog
m o r e (nature inspired inside)
I read an interesting book last weekend, Wabi Sabi: The Japanese Art of Impermanence. I picked it up at the library because I've interviewed an eco-jewelry designer who is guided by the term and know a sustainable fashion designer who uses the concept in her work. It was also talked about beautifully at new urban habitat. And I like the whole idea.
The author of the design book I read describes it this way:
"Wabi sabi is an intuitive appreciation of a transient beauty in the physical world...It is an understated beauty that exists in the modest, rustic, imperfect, or even decayed, an aesthetic sensibility that finds a melancholic beauty in the impermanence of all things."
In art, it is a cherry blossom or a piece of driftwood. Simple, but lovely, beautiful but blemished, balanced and spacious, but not symmetrical and perfect. Inspired by and like nature, wabi sabi objects remind us how things change, things fade, and that by noticing the moments of even such changing and passing away, there is beauty.
I also like how the author relates this philosophy to environmental responsibility. If we all lived wabi sabi, we would, according to him, minimize consumption, choose quality products from sustainable, organic sources, and respect nature. All that, even in terms of our objects, our stuff.
It seems that buying secondhand teacups that show some wear and bear some history is wabi sabi. So is getting a clay teapot made by a local potter. A sustainble piece of furniture or cookware that will last forever. A knitted, knotty blanket. A spare, lovingly handmade item from etsy. Or nothing at all. Eating lunch with the light hitting the bowl just right. Bringing in some fallen leaves and setting them on the table.
One last thing. Two designer/artisans I was introduced to through the book who embodied the modern wabi sabi spirit with their exquisitely simple designs:
Isamu Noguchi, the sculptor famous for now ubiquitous but still wonderful natural paper lamps.
&
George Nakashima, a woodworker who cared about trees and craft and workmanship.
Photo credit: happy via
m o r e (unitasking)
When my husband and I recently watched Ozu's Tokyo Story, we were struck by the slowness, the deliberateness of pretty much every movement the parents in the film make. They meditatively walk, eat, sip, and pack their things. They give attention to every movement.
While I can't go to quite the same distance, I have started to notice my movements and the way I do things. I've started slowing down and say, first sitting down, then changing directions, then reaching for something.
Being more mindful of each step in a process and giving each action its due is certainly less stressful (and probably, in the case of physical tasks, a lot easier on the low back). It's also more effective. I find that when my husband and I try to talk about something important while we're doing a task that requires concentration, upset ensues. Or when I multitask and speed up I fumble, I make mistakes, I forget things.
High speed multitasking may be common in our times, but it doesn't make it effective.
In fact, studies are showing it's quite the opposite. Multitasking causes poor performance and decreased productivity (see dumb little man's post on the subject for details).
I'm thinking by multitasking we also miss a lot of little moments.
Thich Nhat Hanh advocates "unitasking" in his book, The Art of Power because its opposite causes a diffusion of power: "Now we can send e-mail while listening to music, talking on the phone, and taking a picture...With your energy that dispersed, where is your power?"
This is why I'm working on not checking email until I've accomplished one of my own projects most days, limiting what's on my desktop (on screen and onliteral desk), choosing not to make the phone call and do the thing at the same time, doing one project at a time, stopping to look around, being more mindful of my physical movements, and sometimes just doing the dishes and paying attention to water and soap and dish--hard as that may be.
And you? How do you unitask? All suggestions welcome.
Thrilled to report that I've got another piece up on Shareable. This one profiles two different manifestations of cohousing, communities in which people choose to live together in some capacity for the good of the world and themselves. In these examples, one is an apartment building with 42 renters, the other a big 'ol house full of a dozen roommates:
"Their set-ups and specific vibes are unique, but they share many qualities too. They both have "business" meetings to organize the flow of tasks and come to consensus on changes, for example, and each has its share of clashes over hot-button issues (pets can be troublesome). Residents at both have a deep concern for the state of their city. And not surprisingly, neither living room has a TV!"
m o r e (staple, sustainable fashion)
I heard about The Uniform Project from this treehugger article, but perhaps you already had. Either way, I for one am inspired.
The concept? One woman wears one dress (well, actually one of a handful of identical dresses--mindful of hygiene I suppose) for 365 days. A simple black dress becomes a canvas on which to play with layers and accoutrements, most of which are handmade or vintage.
It's an experiment in simplicity, just embellished a bit. Or a lot--but that's why the outfits are so beautiful.
I grew up with uniforms in grade school, as did Akanksha the mastermind. But I never did much with them except refuse to tuck in my shirt. In fact, I never would have thought of them as inspiring, but boy did I miss the mark.
Also, I'm very drawn to getting rid of two-thirds of what's in my closet in favor of only maybe a number of ultra-fantastic, quality (heirloom if you will) items as a foundation from which to build. I'm in the camp of only wanting a piece of clothing if it's "wow" and usually only getting it if it's sustainable or secondhand or locally or handmade, or some combination. That's meant mostly secondhand shopping for a few years now, a method that doesn't always mean I only garner what's "wow" but more like grab what can work. But with only one basic sustainble dress (or maybe a few), now we're talking! And while that may not be realistic, the handful of basic building items sure would make getting dressed easier. And perhaps more fun too.
Get a load of the "uniforms"' she's come up with just this month.
The project is also a fundraiser to bring education to children living in India's slums.
You can donate your long-forgotten but still fabulous accessories or some cash (360 buys one student a year of school) along with looking and dreaming up ways to both trim and tailor your own wardrobe.
Wrote a roundup of sites that help you share today at Your Daily Thread.
And am sharing it with you:
"As they say, when the times get tough, the tough get...sharing. That's right. One positive side effect of this recession is more people are getting together and pooling what they have. So, for Valentine's Day, maybe we can ditch romantic exclusivity and share the love--and other stuff--all around."
Here's the rest:
m o r e (waste less, want less)
I was intrigued when I heard about the Garbage Museum in Connecticut. Complete with a huge but playful Trash-o-saurus made from 2,000 pounds of trash, the amount attritubuted to each person per year in that state, it brings what we throw away to life.
When I worked with L.A. area school teachers on environmental projects, one of the best activities I heard about was the one where science teachers had all their students record and carry around their trash for a week. Kind of like the rice baby experiment, only carrying and caring for nasty waste instead of newborns.
And since the average American generates three and a half pounds of waste a day, carting it has consequences.
I've heard wise people say that "throwing away" trash is a misnomer. Where is away? Truth be told, it doesn't really go away. It goes to our ever-burgeoning landfills. And if something that could be recycled goes there, like a plastic bottle, it can take hundreds of years to break down. If it goes "away" down the street and into the ocean, it ends up out to sea with the birds and fish--even worse.
Then there's Dave, who saved his trash for 365 days. It's a trip to see his lists of waste and his basement lair. But he didn't do it just for kicks:
"My hope is that, as the experiment takes shape, I will be able to quickly ascertain what waste I can simply cut out through choices, what waste is necessary but that can be dealt with in a sustainable way, and what waste I just simply can't do anything about."
So, talking about taking out the trash and taking out more waste from our lives, here are some ways I try to do my part for the wastestream:
*Shop at the farmers' market. Fresh produce from farm stands (usually) has no packaging.
*Bring my own bags to the market and the store.
*Don't buy plastic water bottles except in a couple of special cases (aka emergencies). Instead, I drink filtered water from my tap and fill up SIGG bottles with the same when on the go. I'm famous for asking cafes to refill them when I run out.
*Pack no waste lunches and snacks. All I need are Thermos containers, lightweight bamboo cutlery, and cloth napkins. (You can see how I do my zero waste picnics in pictures here.)
*Compost. I just resurrected my vermicomposting bin where some food waste and paper waste can be eaten by worms and made into the best fertilizer in the world. (Project coming soon.)
*Buy in bulk. I am lucky to have two natural bulk bins nearby where I score grains, nuts, beans, pasta, flour, agave, sea salt, olive oil, and even Dr. Bronner's soap. I try to bring my own glass containers or eco-bags there, too, but admittedly it doesn't always happen. Even buying toilet paper bulked together saves on packaging though I just pick mine up from Trader Joe's where the t.p.'s made from recycled paper and the packaging biodegradable.
*Save packaging. I haven't bought wrapping paper in probably a decade. I favor saving the good stuff and odds and ends and packaging presents in simple, lovely brown paper or fabric with twine or other found, collected ribbon.
*Use both sides of paper. I save any one-sided piece of paper that comes into my sights, whether in the mail or elsewhere. As a writer, I'm always printing out manuscripts on said sheets or I can use it for scrap paper, etc.
*RECYCLE, of course. Glass and aluminum can be forever recycled to make more glass and aluminum (unlike plastic, which has to be reincarnated as something else.) And recycling saves big time on water and energy and cuts out mining.
Okay, so what about you, trash-savvies? How do you minimize waste in your home or office?
Photo credits: abc news and 365 Days of Trash
I'm instituting a new weekly recurring post here on Less Is More (Balanced): 'Words of the Week.' A quote, a statistic, and in this first case, a little poem that embodies our impact, embodies simple, embodies less is more.
This first installment is a haiku by Issa (whose name, I just learned, means "cup of tea"--how great is that?). I encountered it while reading Franny and Zooey:
O snail.
Climb Mount Fuji,
But slowly, slowly!
No rushing, no striving, just climbing the mountain, slowly, mindfully, attentive to the process more than focused on the arrival.
m o r e (less)
People are still struggling in this long economic recession. I have heard it said that one in eight Americans is food insecure, for example. There's pretty much no upside to that. But if you're still afloat in the midst of these strange times, there can be an upside. And that's the creativity, DIY spirit, and community support that can come with tougher times.
So I thought I'd do a resource roundup on the upside of frugal, simple living.
And make no mistake, it can be complex and I think that living simply and mindfully about money and stuff is different for every person. For me, I've had to balance my desire to live as simply as possible with still loving things that are designed well, and sustainability.
I don't have a TV. I have about five pairs of shoes (only two of which I currently wear because of some foot issues and orthotics). I make 99% of what I eat myself and am famous for bringing my own food out and about (part of that is to be sustainble, part for health and food sensitivities). I am a huge library user. I shop at the farmer's market (well, my husband does) for all our produce. I almost never go to big box stores and rarely buy anything outside of food, personal care products, certain books I want to own, and, occasionally, clothing. Almost all the clothing I bought last year was secondhand, the rest sustainably made, and two items--pairs of pants I felt I needed--came from a generic store, bought new. I buy in bulk my grains, flour, tea, and beans. I telecommute and am part of a one car household. I do my darndest not to accumulate stuff.
At the same time, yesterday I decided to buy a North Face jacket from R.E.I. It was a little pricey and has synthetic insulation, usually a no-no for me. But it's totally functional and will keep me warm and comfortable as I sit and work inside and walk outside, doing what I'm supposed to do on the planet. So for me, it's a case by case kind of thing.
What I ask myself when faced with a possible purchase is this:
Is it in line with my values? (Something I was already doing but was reinforced by Financial Integrity.) If the answer is yes and it supports a need, something that enhances quality of life for me or others, I go for it.
All that said, here's that resource roundup I promised.
*New Urban Habitat is a superb simple living resource unto itself, and Abby over there had a post on Chris Farrell's recent release, The New Frugality:How to Consume Less, Save More, and Live Better. And a link to an interview with Farrell.
*Another book on the subject: Simple Prosperity by David Wann.
My fellow blogger and friend, Angela, took the step to buy nothing for a year, and now beyond, with The Compact. She's full of practical inspiration for a life not centered on stuff at My Year Without Spending. Her blogroll is an all-star list of simple frugality as well with The Non-Consumer Advocate and An Exercise in Frugality, among others.
*Financial Integrity has a free downloadable guide with nine steps to financial freedom. It's all about saving more and spending less and doing what you most want to do in life.
*Northwest Earth Institute has what look to be really cool discussion group guides on all kinds of important community topics, including one on Voluntary Simplicity. It could be a cool opporunity to get together with others in your neighborhood, workplace, or spiritual center and talk about the journey.
*I recently started writing for shareable.net and I'm thrilled because it's so full of this kind of stuff--how to get together and work it out and have a good time doing it. Chicken-sharing, toy exchanges, community swap meets, community gardens, you name it that's green and simple and all about sharing.
*SimpleLiving.net, where I've also been privileged to contribute, is a one stop "shop" (haha) for all things simple and frugal. There's a forum and a little blogroll too.
*Then there are DIY and design blogs, which I'll have to save for another roundup. For now, Instructables is a good place to start.
And I'd love to hear from you about how you balance frugality and simple living with your real, modern life.
Brush photo credit: fanam08.
m o r e (sincerely satisfying books)
I'm kind of obsessed with picture books. I read them. I write them. I thought I'd share a handful of them with you (and/or your kids) that inspire. After all, it's a very rainy week where I live and what better way to spend it than curled up with a beautiful, simple illustrated book that speaks volumes.
Wabi Sabi. Incredibly designed with collage art, this is a story of a cat named wabi sabi who journies to find out the meaning of his name. It's riddled with Japanese haiku that demonstrate the concept of beauty in the simple and imperfect as the kitty begins to figure it out.
The Trouble With Dragons. This book is so immensely clever and funny. It tells how troublesome dragons are with their noise and trash and it begins to sound very familiar and close to home (without preaching). Not to worry though, things get so bad that the dragons begin to listen to the other animals who need to save their home. After all, the earth doesn't just belong to dragons.
All the World. Such a positive, pleasurable book, one in which the illustrations (by Marla Frazee) truly tell half the story. It is a kind of poem praising the little things and you and me. So life-affirming with pictures of farmers' markets to boot.
All in a Day. This bold but tender book with papercuts by Nikki McClure is another that makes everything seem important, and possible. It follows a boy through a day that, like every day, is filled with hope and promise and could bring anything--rain, sun, chickens, wishes on dandelions, home. So make it count.
Ming Lo Moves the Mountain. This one's much older and the illustrations are not so dazzling, but I just love the story. Ming Lo and his wife want to move a mountain that causes trouble for them and their house. They do everything the wise man tells them to do, but the thing won't move. That is until the wise man instructs them to take down their house and bundle the sticks and do a special dance, eyes closed and facing the mountain and moving their feet behind one another, over and over. Miraculously, the mountain has moved at the end of the day and they can rebuild their home. Such a lovely lesson in how to solve problems--by moving ourselves.
Your turn--any favorite kids'/illustrated books to add to our less is more collection?
m o r e (mindful money)
I've written here about slow fashion, slow food, and slow communities, so why not slow money?
Our financial system has already shrunk down with the recent economic meltdown, (something I'm not qualified to comment on). However, as we look to rebuilding, might things be different?
According to the NY Times, Americans are buying less and doing more in this recession. In fact, I think with signs like many more people planting so-called "recession gardens," buying local, learning to knit, looking for life/work balance, and desiring sustainble products, it's possible that our values are shifting.
Woody Tasch of the Slow Money Alliance has as new set of money values for us to consider. Instead of building on growth at all costs and mega returns, he wants to refocus our financial system on something that matters, and that takes a while to see bear fruit: local food.
What if we invested in something worthwhile within 50 miles of where we live?
He's proposing that we "invest with more realistic return expectations" and subscribe to principles that:
"enhance food security, food safety and food access; improve nutrition and health; promote cultural, ecological and economic diversity; and accelerate the transition from an economy based on extraction and consumption to an economy based on preservation and restoration."
The idea is that we invest in small farms who need help and get the rewards, some in the form of dividends, some in the form of a better world.
The Alliance is striving for a million signatures to its principles and there's a slow money gathering at a farm this June.
m o r e (simple planetary measures)
I wrote a little piece on PeopleTowels, personal hand towels, for Your Daily Thread today and wanted to share it here because these little numbers carry eco-cred:
"PeopleTowels for the Planet."
m o r e (email sanity)
Maybe you're way ahead of me on this, but I took a step last week to decrease email bombardment and increase sanity and simplicity.
I've already taken great strides to combat my email addictive behaviors by a.) not checking it first thing in the morning and getting at least one project done first; b.) closing my email program for other stretches when I'm working on something that requires concentration; and c.) when it is up, setting it to only cruise for new messages every hour instead of every 5 or 15 or as they come in.
Not to mention getting away from my computer altogether for breaks.
But last week, I created a new email account, one that will only be used for personal or professional emails. That relegates all my mail from organizations, newsletters, blog maintenance, twitter alerts and the like to an already existing one.
What does that mean? It means I can be concerned only with checking the new one more frequently. The other one, I can leave for when I have the time and mental space to go through. This is cutting down on the emails I have to check and making my tech life simpler and more focused.
A couple other email tips: I delete them as soon as possible, funnel the ones I need to keep but don't want cluttering up my inbox into archives (I have one archivey folder labeled nice messages too, for momentous or kind notes I want to keep), and flag everything that needs attention at a later time.
zenhabits has a nice post on how to achieve Email Zen here.
And I love lifehacker's guide to Controlling Your Email.
m o r e (keeping only the best keepsakes, not the clutter)
As I wrote in "Saying Goodbye to Stuff" for the Simple Living Network Newsletter, I gave away or sold or recycled a lot of stuff during my last apartment move, some of it in the sentimental category.
So to replace those old yearbooks and wedding memorabilia/photos, I took just the best of the best and set it aside. Then I looked for the perfect keepsake box to keep it all in. That way, it doesn't take up much space, doesn't bog me down with too much of the past in my living space, and becomes something within reach I can engage with that's full of memories for which I'm grateful.
Well, I looked and looked (on etsy, at local design and green stores, thrift stores, and an architectural salvage place) before finding this. It's a bamboo locking box (very tricky secret--sans a key or lock) I found by chance at the Japanese American Museum in Los Angeles over my winter vacation.
It's perfect. It locks so it remains private if I want it to and it's small enough that if it begins to fill up, I'll have to take out a few items that no longer resonate.
See some more photos of my keepsake box and its contents here.
Some of you wrote to me from the Simple Living Network with creative ways to store notes, ticket stubs, photos, and other touching tokens without big boxes and clutter. Feel free to share more ideas here!
m o r e (stuff that lasts 100 years)
Saul Griffith (inventor and founder of the DIY site, instructables) is a well-known proponent of heirloom design. What's that? It's stuff that's designed to last long enough that it could be passed down to the next generation. It's the opposite of what we've got in abundance now--planned obsolescence, machines that can't be easily repaired, their parts replaced, fad fashion, etc., and stuff that just plain isn't prized for its longevity. All that adds up to waste. Waste in the manufacturing process. Waste in the landfills. Waste in the toing and froing to get the stuff.
As non-designers, we can't make much difference, unless we, well, become designers. But as we have been dubbed consumers, we can make a difference with what we buy.
Griffith said in a recent interview with GOOD Magazine: "An enormous amount of energy we use [industrially] is locked up in 'embodies energy.' It's trapped...in the materials our stuff is made of...While we can choose materials that have less embodied energy for any given product, it's much better to choose objects that last two or three, or preferably 10 times, longer."
Yes, some heirloom items are uber-expensive and that's why they're known for quality and durability (Rolex watches, for example). But in thinking about it, I have some heirloom items in my apartment since I've been prizing quality over quantity for some time now. Some of which were inexpensive while others I saved for to get the better version. (I put away money for four years, for example, to get my healthy, environmentally-friendly bed and mattress and until my current versions were squeaking so badly I couldn't wait another night!)
My Lodge Cast Iron Skillet will last 100 years. I think it cost about twenty bucks. My other stainless steel pots should prove hardy as well. (See all my long-lasting, efficient cookware here.)
I have a vintage wardrobe that is pretty aged but will go strong for decades more with its solid wood construction (before the time of toxic stains and glues most likely, too). I've gotten a few other vintage furniture pieces that will stand the test of time. A Herman Miller Aeron Chair has cradle to cradle certification along with its modern, ergonomic styling.
A few weeks ago, I scored a pair of leather gloves via a friend's clothing swap. They were a gift from her mother (not sure when), are exactly what I was looking for, and, even though free for me, will surely last a lifetime.
There are two winter coats in my closet, both of which I got for around forty bucks at thrift stores, that appear to be very well-made and I'd wager they'll be around for a good many seasons as well.
The bed frame I purchased last year (part of my eco-bedroom project) is constructed of FSC-certified wood is built to last. My natural latex mattress should outlast conventionals by two or three times too (as it should for the price).
Seems like once a year (for the last two anyway) I get a Patagonia wool top (wearing one now!). Not only are they warm, layerable, super quality, and made from natural wool, they're part of Patagonia's Common Threads program so I can recycle them when they're done. I may not be able to pass them down, but I can pass them on to someone else via some creative reuse. (Here's a merino wool men's baselayer, and a women's.)
My husband has a couple of power tools that cut the mustard as well--and hey, a good hammer never goes out of style or breaks down!
So, do you have any heirloom designed items in your home or office? Is there a way to strategize and get one quality item instead of one that will need to be replaced over and over?
I thought I'd look back at simple, green lifestyle practices I've adopted in the last year and the things I'm excited about in that realm and the realm of this blog as I look to the future.
To that end...
2009:
*Only bought clothing that was secondhand or sustainable (thanks to L.A.'s great thrift stores and a couple of local sample sales). I did make two exceptions when I couldn't find or afford a pair of pants elsewhere and mine were, well, kind of threadbare.
*Biked and walked around a ton (until some hospital stay snafus made it impossible for these last few months).
*Completed my eco-bedroom.
*Was involved in a clothing swap.
*Bought secondhand/vintage items for my new apartment.
*Resurrected my vermicomposting bin now that I live in an apartment that gets the shade those critters prefer. My kitchen scraps will now turn into stellar fertilizer.
*Got free of the chemical detergents at the laundromat by moving to an apartment with an efficient, front-loading washer/dryer.
*Started a meditation practice in earnest.
*Planted a kitchen garden in a sunny window.
*Made all my own cleaning products, au-natural.
*Potted more indoor and outdoor plants.
*Donated or sold lots and lots of stuff, even the stuff that was hard to see go!!
*That apartment move, well it also bought me a great landlord who has trees planted on the property (oh the sound of birds flitting around the branches) and who reuses and recycles like nobody's business.
2010:
*Scoring a rainbarrel.
*Starting a shared planter garden at my apartment building.
*Doing more writing that gets me out, seeing more good things going on in the world.
*Volunteering in my community.
*Getting freer of e-mail--prioritizing my projects before tackling everything that's coming at me in my inbox.
*Possibly getting an electric bike for my errands around town and being well enough again for my old-fashioned bike as well.
*My book proposal based on this blog that's floating out in the world...
And I'm sure more things I don't know about yet.
What about you? What are you pleased to have pursued in the name of simple, green living last year and what are you looking forward to for this one?
m o r e (parting ways with stuff)
In honor of January, the beginning of a new year and, more importantly this time around, a new decade, I've got a self-helpy type book for you (tis the season) that's totally in line with less is more.
In Throw Out Fifty Things, Gail Blanke walks you through every room in your house, if you've got a house (I just ignored the attic chapter), guiding you through how to declutter it by getting rid any thing that "weighs you down, clogs you up, or just plain makes you feel bad about yourself"; doesn't add something positive to your life; or takes too much time to decide about--the obvious conclusion being that if it requires too much analysis, it's a goner.
One caveat: throw out sounds kind of bad, as in throw all your unwanted stuff in a dumpster en route to a landfill. Luckily, that's not Blanke's approach. She's got a lot of green tips for disposal from clothing swaps to cartridge recycling to how to ensure your old medications don't end up in the water.
There's also a resource guide for conscious "throwing out" at the back. My favorite finds:
The Princess Project (in the Bay Area)
The second half of the book explores mental stuff to throwaway (no recycling required) with the same criteria of weighing you down, etc. Blanke is a life coach and motivator, so she heralds those skills there.
I thought it was a very useful read, perhaps especially for people who own homes and have acquired stuff over the years. But then again, everybody's got an old prescription or pair of socks they never wear lurking somewhere, right? Not to mention fear and self-doubt.
Here's to a year that's lighter in living and being.