Break “Away”

As the New Year begins and the ideas of minimizing, downsizing, and change are fresh in our minds, I find myself revisiting a concept I wonder about frequently—the American waste stream and our romanticized idea of “away.” We throw our trash (which is another word I consider loosely used, and up for debate) into bins in our home with Febreeze-scented bags that we clumsily tote to our curbs with tired eyes, and when we head off to work, or school, or yoga, that material we deemed waste is picked up and taken away. This unrealistic approach to thinking about waste management may have been satisfactory in the short term; however, conceptually, it is unsustainable, antiquated, and misleading. This idea of away implies that there is somewhere else, more importantly, someone else, who will manage our waste appropriately.

Simply put, away is NOT here. Realistically, away is, at its best, a recycling center. Away is a landfill; and when people are uninformed, or unable, or desperate, away is a burn pile, or a pit in India or China, or another developing nation that will ultimately pay far more than the monetary price you or I will pay on our trash bill. Not only are developing countries not necessarily responsible for the massive amount of waste being generated, they are likely incapable and ill-equipped to manage the waste appropriately, to environmental standards we would expect if it was managed in our backyard. That however, is a discussion for another day.

As I sit here, drinking my coffee and listening to the trash truck pull away, my mind rushes back to the tennis rackets my neighbor threw away when they cleaned their garage out, or that trash can I drove by full of cardboard that will go straight to a landfill, not to be touched again, so another batch of trees somewhere must be cut down, and transported, and processed, then transported back again. We live in a world, where keeping up with the status quo, means embracing everything “eco” and “green,” yet we’re so busy, we don’t even know what’s recyclable anymore.

My issue is not with landfills, or owning items, or cleaning out your garage. Instead, I question the speed at which we move, the way we have disconnected our lives from the lives we pretend to lead, and the sheer fact that we don’t question these things more often. So, I’m curious, where does your waste goes? Have you been there?? Go—look around; take a tour if you can, I bet you’ll be impressed (or astonished) when you do!

Educate yourself, empower others, and simply have more by living with less.