Our trash problem

Recently I’ve been much more aware of all the plastic in my life, especially the vast sheets of disposable packaging that seem to cover everything.

Likewise everything that ends up in my “recycling” bin, which has lost its promise and become a euphemism for twice-as-much-trash. This includes many boxes from Amazon, elegantly sturdy constructions made somewhere somehow by someone, that I use once and then crush under my foot.

And of course all the water running and flushing and sluicing through my life: I regularly have moments where I imagine that it’s gone or severely restricted. How will I wash the dishes?

None of these have changed my behavior in substantive ways. I suspect that my behavior will change when it must.

And I’m afraid that it will.