Apr 20 2009
Waste not
The last bits of the soap bar that are way too small to use without annoyance melt down well to make new soap. I'll take anyone's soap and candle scraps!
“There is no waste, only creative challenges to find meaning and new opportunity,” I wrote last fall, as I developed my “metaphor for ministry.”
Throughout this year I have continually been drawn to the art of avoiding waste. I have planned many, many meals around food left to rot in seminary fridges (and therefore eaten much more dairy than I, an ex-vegan, would like to admit).
My arts-and-crafts projects focus on using materials that would often be thrown away. I’ve made windchimes from tin can lids and used dental floss. I’ve made purses and pads from fabric scraps and unmendable items. I’ve spent hours researching things to do with plastic bags that won’t send more poisonous gases into the atmosphere. (Any ideas? Other than crocheting, which I need to learn to do.)
I’ve nastied the Honda hauling food scraps from school and church to my worm bin, where the food you left on your plate becomes worm food, then worm poop, then earth food, then animal food again. (Wait, does that imply that earth poop is vegetables!?)
Deep-mulching my garden is a way to avoid wasting topsoil (tilling leads to erosion), water (lasagna gardening holds moisture better) and time (less weeding, no tilling or double-digging). Okay, so sometimes not wasting is more work, and sometimes it’s just lazy! Sometimes using trash to make art is because new art supplies are too expensive. It’s all good.
I’ve worked with the What Is Your Story? project, raising the profile and impact of Wayne County’s Girls, Incorporated, and pooling community resources to record the stories of local residents. As Frederick Buechner writes, ”as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I’m feeling most ghost-like, it’s your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist.” All of us need such reminders.
Richmond, especially, needs such reminders, so I’ve started new conversations about getting the Wayne County Time Bank off the ground. Even before this economic downturn, the Richmond area has been seeped in un- and underemployment. Many people believe their own lives are a waste without rewarding work. Many people believe Richmond, itself is a waste. I know the Time Bank will be a way for people to find their own value, and to strengthen this city.
My work with the Clear Creek Co-op adds some confusion to this list. We’ve realized that the Co-op is not healthy, and we’ve identified some possible next steps, including closing the organization. Would closing the Co-op be a waste? A waste of its history, reputation, community and vision?
When is getting rid of something wasteful, and when it is useful (or just plain necessary)? Forest fires are necessary for certain ecosystem’s equilibriums. Worms, ants, vultures and many other living beings eat what humans might consider trash.
If we need to get rid of some things, and if other living beings depend on (some of) our trash, one thing we must consider is how we get rid of things. Food scraps can’t decompose to become nutrient-rich soil in a landfill. How might the Co-op be laid to rest so that something sustainable and beloved can rise from its ashes? (I’m not suggesting we burn it down – I think Earlham would get the insurance money anyway.)
What does waste mean in your life?