A few of years ago my phone company rewarded me with a magazine subscription. It lasted a year and during that time I fell in love with the magazine. When the subscription ended I renewed it for another two years. (It was before we began Footprints.) That will end in May next year. As much as I love the magazine and receiving it each month, I happen to know that my library subscribes to it, as well. I’ve decided why be part of the waste problem. I can still be wonderfully self-indulgent with the library copy. I may have to wait a month or two for the latest issue but I’m happy to do that. Of course, it won't be the latest issue anymore by then but eh.
A fellow blogger who is trying to live a plastic free life has a child in junior primary school. The practise in some schools nowadays is to send home boxes of fundraiser chocolates to sell with the child. Her child came home with a box of Cadbury Freddo Frogs to sell. Her dilemma was that each chocolate had a plastic in its wrapper and to have them in her home, eat them or sell them would be going against her philosophy and ethics. Her post received a huge response, most of which suggested she return the chocolates and give the school an equivalent donation. That is what she decided to do.
I follow bloggers and Facebook pages of people trying to live differently for whatever reason. Another fellow blogger has lived a life for the past five years where she and her family have tried not to purchase anything new. There are obvious exceptions such as underwear and less obvious exceptions such as harmonicas. She stresses that they haven’t given themselves license to just go out and buy loads of second-hand stuff either. The whole point of it is to reduce what they have in general.
What I have found to be common in all our blogs and posts is the joy we take from doing what we’re doing and the fun we’re having with it. None of us feel like we’re going without. I’ve written before about feeling liberated by what my family does. Sometimes there are even very rewarding moments. I had an old beat up ukulele of my mother’s fixed; it was expensive to get done. I felt good that I was getting it fixed instead of adding to conspicuous consumption despite the fact that I could buy a new ukulele for a fraction of the price of the fix up. Then I bothered to look up this particular make of ukulele on the internet and I can report back that I’m way in front. It felt like a pat on the back for doing what I perceive to be the right thing.
Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go and read my magazine before my subscription runs out.