My Story: Chasing the Change

the chickens like to walk among spring daffodils by sierravalleygirl, on Flickr

As a control freak, I didn’t always chase change. A little change goes a long way in my life, and many changes were just too big to consider seriously. Lately, though, I find I lean into change rather than run from it. By choosing to change I can take it at my own pace rather than have change thrust upon me.

Being an all-or-nothing kinda gal, I used to read books like Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and become frustrated. Here was a blueprint to the life I consider ideal and I was so very far from it. Worse, I knew it was not an attainable goal for my family any time in the near future for many reasons. For a while I stopped reading books like that because they were just too upsetting to me.

Then it hit me. Perhaps if I were less of an all-or-nothing gal, I could incorporate smaller changes here and there and get me a little closer, step-by-step, to my ideal. A self-sustaining farm is absolutely out of the question. Even a backyard full of raised beds is not possible right now. But a container garden on my patio is possible. Swearing off plastic isn’t going to happen, but lessening our exposure to it can. More importantly, doing research about plastic exposure and learning which plastics to avoid, when and why is absolutely doable.

I know there are many who eschew plastic in all forms at all times. But, in an extensive life cycle analysis, my dairy farmer discovered that using a food-safe plastic (no BPA) for milk deliveries was less expensive for them, and better for the environment overall than glass containers. (Knowing these people, their expense considerations probably took a backseat to the environmental evidence.) That took me completely by surprise. You mean there is a time and place for plastic? That flies in the face of this all-or-nothing gal’s sensibilities.

(Look for life cycle analysis to be the next big thing. People talk about “food miles” but that doesn’t take into account the processing methods of the food, only its odometer reading. Some people speak of “cradle to grave” analysis as if our trash magically disappears once it leaves our curb. Life cycle analysis is “cradle to cradle”: that is, it studies the impact of every step of the process along the way, from the gathering of raw materials to the recycling or disposal of it after use. The Story of Stuff is an excellent explanation of life cycle analysis.)

I was raised in a family of climate change deniers. Rolling eyes, little giggles and heavy sighs were the standard response to news items or friends positing theories on climate change. I still don’t know exactly where I stand on the issue—there seems to be an awful lot of conflicting evidence, much of which will require bigger brains than mine to sort out. But it doesn’t matter. How I feel about it one way or the other will not make one bit of difference to the planet. How I act most certainly will. And even if climate change turns out to be a hoax/misunderstanding/misreading of the evidence, making carefully considered choices won’t hurt anyone (or leave me with a seared conscience.)

Reading No Impact Man did not make me want to run out and find alternatives to toilet paper. But it did make me reconsider my choice of grocery sacks. When the evidence started pointing toward the unsustainable future of plastic bags, I got ahead of the communities banning them and made the change on my timetable. Of course if I were really rethinking, I would have seen through the “convenience” veil years ago and never bought into the paper-or-plastic conundrum.

My weekly browse of Urban Velo does not inspire me to sell the family van, but it has encouraged me to look for and consider alternative transportation. And, let’s face it, a single or couple will have options that a family of 8 will not.

But I have an advantage over that single or couple. I’m raising a small horde of free-thinking, information-seeking, book-loving citizens who (hopefully) won’t scoff at any opportunity to improve their communities or the planet they borrow from their grandchildren.

Now, I don’t bring up these lovely, shiny examples to toot my own horn. I’m still waaaa-hay-hay-hay behind the curve on an awful lot of issues. I still drive-thru too often, crave soda and have paper towels in the kitchen. And I still bristle at the demise of the incandescent light bulb in favor of its mercury-containing mandated replacement. But I’m learning, challenging the status quo and chasing the change. Fearlessly. Okay, not without fear, just with less. Maybe.