Circular Thoughts: An Introduction

Setting aside the pursuit of perfection and, instead, seeking a workable approach to living more sustainably.

When I see those influencers who can fit their yearly plastic waste into a single cup, I feel deeply mixed emotions. There is some awe — how on earth is that even possible? — , a little self-flagellation for not having that kind of ambition, and then a burst of hopelessness. Where would I even begin if I wanted to do something like that? I have a limited amount of free time already — I work full-time and am married with one human child and two four-legged ones. I couldn’t realistically (and don’t want to) devote all my extra moments to this single pursuit. 

Then, my mind wanders to an even more pessimistic place. Even if I dedicated my life to living as plastic-free as humanly possible, wouldn’t it all be counterbalanced by a single celebrity kid’s birthday party? Or 10 minutes of a billionaire’s wedding in Italy? 

And so the cycle continues, and nothing I do changes. 

As a former academic overachiever, I’m pretty well-versed in the dogged pursuit of perfection and its consistent companion, soul-crushing failure. I know there’s only one thing to do at this point: give it up. And with perfection no longer on the table, what’s left? 

I’m now doing my best to make my family’s life more sustainable in a way that is workable and, if you will, sustainable for the long haul. I want to challenge myself to reduce our carbon footprint without aiming for goals that are so impractical as to cost me my sanity. And there’s an important reality nagging at me every time I feel anxiety over a small decision. While it might make me feel good to, say, buy a plastic-free version of something, if living more sustainably doesn’t become much easier for everyone else around me (and who may simply not know or care very much to change their own habits), this might be serving my own ego most of all. 

My goal for this project is threefold: 

  • to think critically about the actions I’m taking to reduce waste in my own life and household,
  • explore new sustainable habits or practices to see how they might fit into our lives, and 
  • learn about systemic changes that could make everyday life more sustainable for people like me. (“Like me” meaning someone remarkably average. I’m not a scientist, researcher, sustainability expert, or professional of any sort; my husband and I have a combined income that puts us solidly in what you might consider today’s middle class [e.g., buying a house feels out of reach but we have stable access to basic needs and some disposable income.])

As a mother to a young daughter, doing my best to live out my values has become urgent. This doesn’t just include living lighter in terms of my carbon footprint; it means understanding change-making as a messy, imperfect, piecemeal process that often feels unsatisfying, and is still incredibly important.