Is It Really "Trash" Just Because We Chuck It?

Do you believe that our perception is the magical ingredient that compels us to analyze an object for worthiness and either keep it in our personal environment or deposit it in the closest waste bin? Depending on what we believe to be true within our mind's eye, things can either be treasured, given a stay of execution for an undetermined period of time or ditched without second thought, but what makes us choose a certain path? Does it really all boil down to our deeply engrained consumer culture, the behavior that prompts us to desire shiny new objects at every turn and assign a mental expiration date to anything that is a minimum of three months or older? Once we allow unwanted objects to tumble from our hands into a garbage pail, are they really meaningless? Have you ever taken a moment to establish the real distinction between what you deem worthy enough to keep and what becomes a garbage can casualty?

Most people might agree that "they don't make things the way that they used to," so is your decision to throw something away based on a lack of quality and workmanship...or is it more likely due to your perpetual dissatisfaction and interest in filling a void? You may decide that you'll never use something again since it's been collecting dust on the top of your you fill in the blank, and yet if that is truly the case, why did you acquire it in the first place...and more importantly, what makes you drop it in the garbage rather than deciding to donate it to a thrift store or offer it up via Freecycle or Craigslist? These questions are perhaps a little challenging to answer since they require that we expose part of ourselves in a way that is slightly uncomfortable, so allow me to take the lead and by all means, please feel free to follow.

When I first digested the concept of disposable income and recognized that the extra currency I had in my hot little hands each month could be used to fill my living space with stuff, I launched myself head-first into a 10 year downward spiral of mindless acquisition. I shopped and purchased strictly for recreational purposes and honestly never really needed anything that I acquired, aside from staples such as food and basic clothing. The thrill of finding that next new thing was so addictive that I ended up spending more time in stores than interacting with friends. Some girls become fashionistas who incinerate every spare dollar to their name on a vast collection of designer duds and accessories, but for some inexplicable reason, I was drawn to pointless domestic trinkets instead. A shopping junkie through-and-through, I continually plotted my next excursion and this cycle went on ad nauseum until I finally found myself at a point where I had to relocate to another home.

Once you have to pack up every single object that you've acquired throughout a 10 year period, it suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks, "How did I end up with all of this stuff?!?" Boy oh boy...that hurt. Naturally, you KNOW how you got there -- you have the charge card bills to prove it -- but for some reason it's still a huge shock, and I was far too young at the time to realize that I should probably donate the majority of it or at least hold a garage sale first. I couldn't possibly part with anything that I worked so long and hard to acquire, so I carefully tucked each object away into box after box, certain that I would use every last bit of it one day in the near future. Here's a little secret, though. About 90% of it is still located in the garage of my new (now "seasoned" home) 8 years and counting. I never imagined that I'd ever willingly WANT to live a simple, uncluttered lifestyle but now here I am and trust me, once I get around to sorting through all of that stuff (which I dread), I will do everything in my power to ensure that it all goes to people and organizations that will really benefit.

In the meantime, I grapple with my former lifestyle choices and the fact that I was responsible for generating a hefty carbon footprint for nearly one solid decade. Add to that all of the money that I wasted, the superfluous packaging that I gave the heave-ho to (before the notion of recycling was even a twinkle in my eye) and the items that I casually disposed of along the way "since I could always buy a new, improved version". Considering my torrid consumer past, I am doing my very best to offset those 10 dark years by making more conscious, responsible choices on the rare occasions that I do enter a store. Ultimately, I realize that there is always a way to give something that is traditionally destined for the landfill a new life, and today I embrace the intellectual and creative challenge of repurposing with open arms. I'd love to hear everyone else's stories on how their green journey has helped them to reconsider what they actually bring into their house and how they finally dispose objects that are no longer wanted.