YES! Magazine

Kathy Blogs on No Impact Week

Kathy Kottaras — 2011-09-19T15:25:00Z

So far this week:

Sunday: Consumption
Monday: Trash
Tuesday: Transportation
Wednesday: Food
Thursday: Energy
Saturday: Giving Back

Kathy Kottaras

Los Angeles, California

I'm a mom and teacher writing from southern California.

Having grown up in Chicago, where I watched my father toil to bury his fig tree during the winter months, I'm especially in awe of my arugula and Swiss chard, who laugh in the face of wind and hail. I am trying the No Impact Experiment for the second time. I also blog at plantthisgarden.com.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

My eggplants are depleted. They spent all summer growing and flowering, only to drop all of their dainty purple flowers, producing no fruit at all. I spoke to the helpful expert at my local gardening store yesterday, and he said that besides the wacky weather confusing the heck out of the poor plants (hot days that encourage growth and bloom followed by cold days that tell the plant it’s autumn and the surprise shock of more blazing heat), my garden as a whole could probably use a good boost of nitrogen. It makes sense, since we’ve powered through six or so seasons of pretty great harvests, through both winter and summer.

This year, however, while my tomatoes did well, and the zucchini spit out a few good fruit, the rest of the garden – the cucumbers, peppers, tomatillos, even the easy little radishes – they didn’t do so well. I’m still very much a novice gardener, and while I understand peripherally the theories from all those mandatory biology classes I had to take as a kid of a plant’s life—energy systems, photosynthesis, etc.—it’s an interesting thing when you suddenly have to make conscious choices that will affect the garden’s quality of life.

So, I’ll be pouring in more humus from our compost bin, amending the soil with fertilizer, and planting fava beans, which return nitrogen to the soil.

I find that the No Impact carbon-cleanse is similar to the process of replenishing my garden. It’s the time now to pause, to consider where I’m depleted, what is filling me up with the right kind of energy, and how to restructure my life so that I can pour in some metaphorical nitrogen. Six months ago, I completed the experiment, and I changed many small habits that I still keep—cloth napkins, reusable bags, shorter showers, technology Sabbaths. I’m looking forward to this week to consider which of the old habits returned, and to contemplate where I can still change.

The eggplants are still growing, by the way. They’re still pumping out those flowers, teasing me with every one. I guess it gives me some hope. I’ve read articles that claim that without widespread governmental and industrial change, we have little impact on the future of our earth’s health. I suppose there’s much truth in those arguments, but I refuse to stop trying here at home. If my eggplants aren’t giving up, neither will I.

Discover how wasting less improves your life.

: Photo by Kathy Kottaras.

I love to walk. I try to walk a few times every week, usually on the weekdays. I follow the same path through a relatively quiet, hilly neighborhood that leads to a relatively quiet and beautiful city park. I find that when I walk, my mind can wander.

I begin slowly, even begrudgingly, almost as if I have to force my legs to move forward. Quickly, though, my mind moves out of my body into the world. I silently describe the world, perhaps finding words to color the sky, testing my memory of the flowers’ names—hibiscus, geranium, iris, oleander, and I remember that it is called dafne in Greek. And then maybe I think about the myth, one of the my favorites, and I see the girl as she turns into a tree.

And then, finally, I focus on my life; I think about concerns, problems, solutions, the parts that are working, the parts that need work. In the book Architecture from the Inside Out, which I recently borrowed from a colleague, Franck and Lepori describe what is called a desire line, which is “the path people mark in the ground by repeatedly taking the same route.” I love this. For me, walking is a meditation. It is a time to breath, one of the only times I am truly off the grid, my body moving, my mind listening to the even beat of my own steps, marking my desires into the ground.

So, there I was this weekend walking, specifically so that I could “replace shopping with an activity that [I] enjoy doing more,” when I come upon this sign: Garage Sale.

See, I usually walk on weekdays, when I can truly space out. Then, on the weekends, here are these signs, blurring my own desire lines, hell, blurring my own desires.

I was tempted – I really was. But I’m proud to report that I didn’t follow the neon signs. I didn’t go shopping, even for other people’s used stuff. I kept my money in my pocket. I kept walking. And then I went home empty-handed, desiring nothing.

Burn calories, not fossil fuels.

I have these really long days at work where I go from 6 a.m. to 3 p.m., and I’m running between three classrooms, all on different ends of the campus, teaching and talking for much of those nine hours. By 9 a.m. I’m hungry for lunch, and by 11:30, when my second class gets out, I’m nearly wiped from the sheer amount of social activity.

I’ve decided to eat vegetarian for ten days. My grandfather was a vegetarian throughout his life, having made the decision at 17 years old after working the stockyards on the south side of Chicago.

It’s an interesting thing to have to think about getting off the grid, let alone trying to eat well, when I’m running from room to room carrying everything I own in one bag, like a Sherpa.

My goal this semester was to lighten my load, but unfortunately, with such a hectic schedule that goal was nearly impossible to realize. I have to carry my computer, my rosters, assignments, students’ paper, books, my lunch, my snacks, and enough water to last me all of those nine hours. Believe me, it’s a lot.

I have a giant rolling bag, one that fits all of this, and I pack everything in reusable containers every day.

Since the last No Impact Week, this has become habitual—I bring everything everywhere with me. Colleagues and friends are constantly commenting on how smart it is, how much easier it seems, “how great that you know exactly what you have to eat…” etc., etc.

Quite frankly, it’s annoying. I would love to be able to grab lunch somewhere and then toss out the remnants, plates and utensils, without having to give a second thought to it. But I have to admit, I’ve become used to the reliability of my lunch: no waiting in lines, no indigestion from mediocre food, and the joy of knowing that my food is high quality and tastes great.

To push myself even more during my second round of No Impact, I’ve decided to eat vegetarian for ten days. I tried it for four months when I was a teenager, but...I'm half-Greek, and honestly, it's hard. I really like meat. I don't know that my long term goal is to be 100 percent vegetarian, but I would like to lessen my impact on the environment by eating considerably less meat.

I started my vegetarian mini-project on Saturday, September 17, the day before the experiment began. This date is important to me since it marked 111 years since my grandfather’s birth. He was a vegetarian throughout his life, having made the decision at 17 years old after working the stockyards on the south side of Chicago. He lived to be 97 years old, and he is the only grandparent I was able to meet.

So there I am, day three of my experiment, pulling out my reusable lunch bag, looking forward to the veggie burger that waited inside, to find this:

We accidentally swapped lunches.

Don’t worry, I didn’t eat it.

I thought about it, but I didn’t.

First vegetarian challenge met. Tonight’s challenge? Hamburgers.

Send me good thoughts.

Healthy eating can also lessen your footprint.

Hurrah! Food day! This is my favorite one.

We shop at the farmers’ market nearly every week, so much so that we know the vendors by name. I’d say that I’m fairly addicted to the quality of produce available at the markets.

So, for my second run at the experiment, I’ve decided to try out vegetarianism for ten days. This is tough for me—I’m half-Greek. Enough said, right? I love beef and chicken and pork, and yes, even cute little lambs. It’s terrible, I know.

What’s especially terrible to most of my vegetarian and vegan friends is the fact that it doesn’t bother me that I eat cute, fuzzy, bright-eyed animals. When they read this, they might very well unfriend me on Facebook.

But what does bother me is the fact that that study after study shows that a good amount, 18% according to this study, of the world's greenhouse gases are a direct result of the production of all that meat. Our family does purchase much of our meat the markets—local chickens and grass-fed beef—but I just can’t help but feel a bit guilty every time I eat my really delicious burgers.

So, I’ve decided to complete this 10-day experiment to experience life without them. Today is my fourth day. It’s been going well. I’ve been experimenting the in the kitchen with chickpeas, eggplants, and garlic, all from the farmers market, and basil, from my garden.

The rest of the family is still eating meat. My step-dad has been cooking it for my husband, daughter, and himself. I was worried that the smell might kill me, but oddly enough, it hasn’t bothered me one bit.

The other night at dinner, my daughter was eating the skin off my husband’s chicken thigh. She pointed to it and asked, out of nowhere, “Wait. Is this skin? Like real skin?”

I looked at my husband, unsure of how to answer. “Yes,” I admitted.

“How do they catch them?”

“Um…well,” I fumbled. “They just do.”

“So this came from a real chicken?”

“Um, yes honey. Does that bother you?”

She thought for a moment.

“Nope,” she said, and went back to licking the burnt parts. I went back to eating my eggplant and chickpea salad.

Like mother, like daughter, for now. We’ll see what happens when she gets older and is able to read the news.

Replace kilowatts with ingenuity.

(written on September 26th, post-No Impact Week)

I’ve been fighting a cold all week. Funny thing happens when you get sick. You know that it’s your body telling you that you need rest. You know that you’ve worn yourself out, expending too much energy in too many directions, and the last thing you should do is sit down in front of the TV, especially considering the fact that you signed up for this crazy No Impact project, and because you know it will only suck out more energy. Your sinuses hurt, you’re coughing and wheezing, and you should be in bed, in a dark room, propped up on pillows, fast asleep, allowing your body to recover.

Thursday morning, Madeline even tried to make me stop working. She woke up and decided to do the dishes. Seriously. This little four-year-old girl took out her step stool, grabbed a sponge, and started to wash dishes. As she splashed around, I interceded a few times to make sure the dishes were rinsed well enough, and then I proceeded to get the lunches together, cook some eggs, and make my coffee. As I was placing the eggs into the water, she turned to me—my precocious child turned to me and said, “Mom. I told you. You’re not supposed to be doing anything. You’re sick. Let me do it. Just sit down, and stop moving!”

Is that what I did? Of course not. The other funny thing is that when I completed this project back in January, the energy day was my favorite. I shut off the lights promptly at dusk. I wrote by candlelight. I fell asleep at nine and was awake at five, watching the sunrise, feeling refreshed and utterly divine.

My precocious child turned to me and said, “Mom. I told you. You’re not supposed to be doing anything. You’re sick. Let me do it. Just sit down, and stop moving!”

So, I was looking forward to Thursday night. I was planning to stop moving in my dark room, just as I had back in January. I spent the day even more away of the buzzing of energy all around me: the brass din of the leaf blower followed by a rushing wave of a miniature street cleaner while I tried to eat my homemade lunch outside; the incessant buzzing of lights and motors in the hallways at work; even in my small, quiet office, the fluorescent bulbs hum over my head. All day, I looked forward to coming home, turning off everything, laying in a dark room, or under a cloudy sky, feeling my body heavy on earth.

Instead, I plopped down in front of the television and let more energy drain out of me. The flashing images that were saved on my DVR were less “must-see” TV than “could-watch-this-next-week-and-even-fast-forward-through-commercials” TV. I fell into old habits, on the grid, sniffling and moaning all the way through.

That was Thursday night. Last Friday night, I resolved to catch up with myself. I canceled my evening plans, turned off the lights and went to bed. I woke up Saturday morning, the second day of autumn, my sinuses clear, my smooth breath returned to my body, my energy restored. I went outside and sat under the cloudy sky, stretching on my yoga mat, next to my garden. About forty minutes later, my daughter came outside with me. We sat down together, watching the birds. “This is nice,” she said.

There’s another funny thing, how that works. When we get off the grid, the grid is happier, and of course, so are we.

I should do this more often, I guess.

Discover the benefits of service.

We had a lovely weekend, giving back and taking it easy. I’ll admit that I did shop (the farmers market—I couldn’t last the full nine days), we did eat out once (for hot soup for my cold that continues to haunt my chest), and we probably drove more than we should have, but for the most part, we spent the weekend Sabbath-ing and enjoying time with family and friends. When we did drive it was to my daughter’s first soccer team event, to a birthday party, and to Shane’s Inspiration playground for the 5K/10K Walk and Roll Event.

I love playgrounds, and to me, they represent some of the best parts of living with more awareness and kindness. I could spend ten hours at a playground, and many days, we do. We bring our lunch, spread out a blanket, and follow Madeline around the park. I’ve learned to leave my phone in the car, if I can, so that I can just be there, pushing her on the swing, running next to her while she rides her little bike.

Yesterday’s event was even more special because we were able to support Shane’s Inspiration, whose “mission is to create inclusive playgrounds and programs that unite children of all abilities.” They build Universally Accessible Playgrounds so that all children can play together on equipment that is also available for children with disabilities.

Christian Blogs on No Impact Week

Christian Honce — 2011-09-19T07:00:00Z

Christian Honce

Brooklyn, New York
Three weeks ago, I moved from Berea, Kentucky to Bushwick, Brooklyn. And although a lot is different, I’m thrilled to see many things are the same. In both places, farmers markets, organic coffee shops, and
bike stores are within biking distance.

So what’s wrong? Since moving to Bushwick, my carbon footprint, meat consumption, and trash production have grown out of control. I no longer have to drive
to get to a bar, but now I’m dependent on the subway and packaged food. Perhaps it’s being removed from nature, or maybe working ten-hour days, but I’m hoping the No Impact Week will give me the kick in the butt I need to get my act together.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

Consumption Sunday is unfairly easy when you're poor. I suppose that's the point—all of these challenges are harder for those dependent on modern comforts. And I passed the test with flying colors, without buying a single shirt or book or Fabergé egg.

But when I looked at all the stuff in my apartment, I realized my poverty was on a relative scale. I've taken, and continue to take, far more than my fair share.

My laptop alone is made of oil, rare earth metals, and whatever LCD stands for. The electricity that runs it is mostly produced from coal yanked out from under my family back in Kentucky. Everything I own or buy is either unnecessary, offsetting its cost by exploitation, or both.

To truly do this week justice will not be easy.

Things I'm looking forward to:

Farmer's Market in Maria Hernandez Park.

Candles.

Board games.

Having an excuse to give up Facebook, email, and the internet as a whole.

Having to drink drought beer instead of canned.

Things that make me feel dizzy and panicky:

No subway.

No cell phone

Sponge baths.

Starting Wednesday, no food unless I bike to Union Square.

Everything else.

Discover how wasting less improves your life.

Nothing makes me want to eliminate trash more than having to carry it. Because I didn't work yesterday, I had an unfair advantage. Today, I didn't fair as well.

The damage:

Reused grocery bags (2)

Paper artificial sweetener packet (1)

Receipt (1)

Placed in recycling:

Aluminum can (1)

Delayed damage:
Everything I ate or used came in a disposable container, whether or not it was thrown out immediately after I used it. While it's easy to limit daily trash production by not buying individually wrapped products, the real challenge seems to come with buying goods served, transported, and prepared in reusable containers.

Reusing things a second time is a nice step, a la my use of old grocery bags to double wrap my lunch of cold pizza. But what happens after that? I've been wracking my brain all day to figure out what to do with the grocery bags that now smell like pizza.

Some ideas:

Clean them and line my shoes so that they're warmer in the winter. Con: fungus?

Clean them and use them to transport my food every day. Con: chemicals?

So what to do? I Googled solutions, but all of them eventually ended with the bags in the trash. The basic conceit is that the best you can do is get a second use, which is definitely not sustainable. Failure one.

I was feeling smug about the thermos I brought for coffee today, but forgot about the receipt that buying it created and the wrapper that sweetener left behind. There was a moment where I considered shrieking Nooooo! but I figured the man making my coffee had enough to deal with before I had emotional breakdown in his restaurant. Failure two.

I had a long day and wanted a beer when I got home. But I recycled it! And it was local! Come on! Failure two and a half.

I often wonder what would happen if trash was no longer picked up from our curbs. Would we carry it to the dump as often as it's picked up now? What if landfills all said "We're full," and we had to dispose of our trash in whatever space we lived in? What meaning would the term disposable take on?

Tomorrow is transportation. Legally, I can't bicycle because I don't have head and tail lights and my trip home is after dark. So I've got a choice: take the subway, or wake up at 4:00 AM, in time to walk to work. Check in tomorrow to find out which.

Burn carlories, not fossil fuels.

I wish I had a really inspiring story about waking up before the dawn, tearing up my Metrocard, and hiking across the Williamsburg bridge. I wish that I had trudged eight miles through the rain to get to work and eight miles in the dark to get home. But of course, I didn't.

I “forgot” to get lights just like I “forget” reusable bags when I go to the grocery, or “forget” to order the vegetarian option.

I had planned to bike, but what I conveniently forgot about was New York City law. You can't legally (or safely) ride a bicycle at night without both a headlight and taillight. And I know I should have bought them as soon as I moved to the city. But of course, I didn't.

And just now, I realized that I forgot on purpose. I know, I wasn't expecting that twist either. But it's true. I “forgot” to get lights just like I “forget” reusable bags when I go to the grocery, or “forget” to order the vegetarian option.

But if this is just a question of laziness? Is it that I don't want to spend energy, or that I don't want to spend my own energy?

If I experience a measure of wealth, someone else will experience an equal and opposite measure of poverty. It's up to us to decide whether or not to forget that.

Today, like every day, I took the subway, which is powered by electricity, which is powered by coal or uranium, which is mined by people who put in a hell of a lot of effort. And those same people are going to suffer through the health effects, and unfair wages, and lack of access to resources. I bet they walk to work.

My laziness is really and truly just a symptom of selfishness. On a finite planet (and we most certainly live on one), if I experience a measure of wealth, someone else will experience an equal and opposite measure of poverty. It's up to us to decide whether or not to forget that.

Tomorrow, I'm checking out the Bushwick Farmers Market at Broadway and Linden. If there's nothing edible there, I have to bike six miles to Union Square to eat breakfast. I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow's challenge.

More stories from No Impact Tuesday: Transportation

Healthy eating can also lessen your footprint.

By 6 o'clock today, my girlfriend and I were dizzy, confused, and suffering headaches. I had scoured all of Williamsburg on my bicycle trying to find a market that sold local eggs, and all I'd gotten for the trouble was a raging stomach. My girlfriend had been napping and just couldn't seem to gather enough energy to stay up. It was at that moment that we decided to bend the rules.

The first thing I do in the morning, every day, before I brush my teeth or put my contacts in or drink water, is make coffee. But coffee travels thousands of miles to get to my cup, and I want to prove to myself I can do without it.

I found a hunk of mozzarella cheese in the fridge that said it was made in New Jersey, justified using oil that we had already bought, and compromised by using free-range eggs from out of state. Now I know the cheese might have been made in New Jersey, but I'm almost positive the milk it was made from was not. How did we sink so low?

Mostly, it's coffee. It's 8:30 p.m. and I still feel like I haven't woken up yet. The first thing I do in the morning, every day, before I brush my teeth or put my contacts in or drink water, is make coffee. Without it, I'm grumpy, unfocused, and I speak in what several trusted friends have called my “superior voice.” It's a monotonous stream of sass and pointing out what people are doing wrong, and it's not pretty for anyone. But coffee travels thousands of miles to get to my cup, and I want to prove to myself I can do without it. Which means I'm writing in my superior voice.

This morning, I biked to the Bushwick Farmers Market at its Broadway/Linden location. The vendors had an incredible selection of mushrooms, vegetables, gourds, greens, fruit, and even eggplant for a cheaper price than my grocery store. But when I asked where the eggs, dairy, nuts, oil, meat, and bread were, I was told that those items are usually only available at Saturday's market in Maria Hernandez park.

Gah!!!

I had already given up my treasured vice of coffee, and now I had to give up everything else enjoyable?!? Don't get me wrong, I love vegetables. My girlfriend is a vegetarian, so I'm cooking those bad boys up all the time. But I've never sat back in my chair after eating a cucumber and said “Boy, I'm full.”

But this is an experiment, and for it to succeed I must adhere to its demands as closely as possible. So I bought $36 worth of the best Bushwick has to offer and pedaled back to the apartment in a hungry frenzy, where my girlfriend and I had a delicious breakfast of stir-fried yellow squash, broccoli, shitake mushrooms, poblano peppers, and green peppers. (Confession: I used non-local oil and soy sauce.) For the rest of the morning we felt great, but by 1:00 p.m. we were considering cannibalism. We tried to quell the fire by scarfing down tons of wonderful local apples and pears. But it persisted, to an extent that by 6:00 p.m., we were in the state I described earlier.

So I lightly coated some eggplant and squash slices in oil, sprinkled them with Cajun seasoning, and grilled them on high in a cast iron skillet. At the same time, I shredded some greens, minced an onion and a few cloves of local garlic, and threw them all in a pot with a little water.

When the eggplant and squash were done, I threw some eggs in the skillet, soaking up the browned and spiced oil, and scrambled them. I put the eggs, squash, and eggplant on giant leaves of greens, sprinkled with mozzarella, and garnished with thin slices of tomato.

It was spectacular, filling, and a compromise. We bent the rules with the cheese and blatantly broke them with the oil and Cajun seasoning, and it was worth it. Unfortunately, it seems as though we've already eaten all the food I bought today except for some pears and apples...and a cucumber.

It seems a large part of living with no impact requires having one person make it their job. If I didn't work, I think I could provide for myself, my girlfriend, and my roommates, if someone else footed the bill. But I have a job, and surviving on the meager provisions we have left and not drinking coffee tomorrow is going to be a huge test of my willpower. Perhaps when the caffeine leaves my body and I find a place that sells local beans, it won't be hard anymore.

Tomorrow is electricity, which I'm so on board with. I'm on the computer the entire day at work, and coming home, lighting some candles, and taking it easy sounds like heaven.

Replace kilowatts with ingenuity.

Today was an absolute wash, so I'm going to do you all a favor and skip it. I'd like to take a moment to kvetch.

In Kentucky, I only had to bike a mile to work. The farmers market was closer. If it wasn't open, there was an organic market the same distance as work. If that wasn't open, there was an Amish market less than two miles away. Failing that, there was an employee-owned grocery store an equal distance away.

Granted, Berea is much different than the average Kentucky burg. But that doesn't negate the fact that living with a small footprint is harder when you're new to New York. I have to weave through psychotic drivers if I bike, and walking only takes me to a grocery store. If the subway is off the table, what am I left with?

Really, it's not that much different than living up Stinking Creek, in Knox County, Kentucky. Just to get to the grocery store, we had to drive fifteen miles. Sure, we lived on 250 acres and I could have grown my own food, but there were other obstacles.

As a teenager on the creek, I was convinced eating anything grown in my mother's garden would kill me. The vegetables and gourds weren't perfect shapes like their supermarket counterparts, there were spots where bugs had gotten to them, and worst of all, they were grown in the same dirt that I walked on. And yet when I hit college, I did a complete 180. Probably because that's what my friends were into, but mainly because it seemed like the most logical path to take after learning about the state of the world.

A couple of years ago I taught Upward Bound, a prep program for potential first generation college students. Despite the fact that these kids were from Eastern Kentucky, few had ever spent time in a garden, let alone a farm, so I showed them Berea College's gardens and greenhouses. And they all seemed stunned to realize that things they ate grew from the ground.

The disconnection is frighteningly widespread, and, I'm convinced, not at all accidental. Until I had my reawakening in college, I felt the only safe foods to eat were processed or pasteurized or made with preservatives. Who told me this? First, McDonald's, Kellog's, Tyson, but mostly the school cafeteria.

What is always the “safe” option in the lunch room? Chicken patty. Always delicious, and that's simply fact. What are the things to avoid? Green beans, carrots, and the fruit cocktail. How can you blame a kid for wanting to eat the food that is consistently better tasting than the cooked-to-death “healthy” alternatives. And how does one keep from associating all vegetables with that same experience?

If we go to school to learn, do we absorb everything as a lesson? Are the values of an unsustainable culture institutionalized from an early age? Will I ever stop asking questions? Tune in tomorrow to find out.

Soak up the benefits of using less water.

It's time to tell the truth about yesterday. I had a splitting headache from the moment I woke up until I went to bed. Work was miserable, I was hungry all day, and I couldn't get away from electricity for the life of me. There was a lot I could have prevented, but I already blogged about that. Instead, I'm going to talk about some things that have been simply wonderful.

I've been capitulating all week about what I've done wrong, and I haven't stopped to think about what I've done right.

Today, my girlfriend and I took a walk in our neighborhood and decided to splurge on dinner at Cafe Ghia. The place is located on Jefferson and Irving, amongst some of Bushwick's best restaurants and bars. Like many of its neighbors, Cafe Ghia prides itself on using local produce, meat, and dairy products. But unlike many of its pricier neighbors, food prices float around a comfortable $10.

We started by ordering yellow beets with goat cheese, walnuts, and Bushwick greens, and though it did turn out to be the priciest part of our meal, it was still phenomenal. We followed that with a Havarti and fig jam panini, a cup of tomato pepper soup, and a tempeh reuben. The whole experience was perfect, and instead of wasting half an hour on the subway we got to walk through our community and have a really nice conversation.

Every week, I made it a habit to eat all-you-can eat ribs on Monday, and all-you-can-eat wings on Wednesday. And that was on top of eating meat at every single meal. How 'bout a pat on the back for shaking that?

Was everything local? Probably not the fig jam. Did we use electricity? Indirectly, yes. Did we produce trash? I'm sure. Did we buy anything new? Not all week. Did we conserve water? Actually, our waitress did spill some...

I've been capitulating all week about what I've done wrong, and I haven't stopped to think about what I've done right. I haven't eaten meat all week, which might not seem that impressive. But I'd like to ask—have you ever eaten forty-one wings in a single sitting? I have, and I was still hungry afterward. Every week, I made it a habit to eat all-you-can eat ribs on Monday, and all-you-can-eat wings on Wednesday. And that was on top of eating meat at every single meal. How 'bout a pat on the back for shaking that?

I've finally started riding my bike places, and I'm taking more of an interest in my community. Really it sounds like some kind of cheesy infomercial, but it's true, and it's because I'm looking at things differently.

Okay. Reading that last paragraph over, it seems like a Jabba the Hut monologue. But the point is, I think today should be a day to look back and see how far we've come. For instance, this week, I've produced barely any trash. And, it's not been some horrible obligation. On the contrary, it's been pretty refreshing to see how much I can avoid.

Now, we're not talking about recycling here. If we're counting that, then I am a one man waste-producing machine. But we're not, because we're talking about nice things.

I have had more delicious, fun meals this week than the last few months combined. I've finally started riding my bike places, and I'm taking more of an interest in my community. Really it sounds like some kind of cheesy infomercial, but it's true, and it's because I'm looking at things differently. And while things are happy and I'm patting myself on the back, I'm also going to cut myself some breaks.

Our entire society is designed to make sustainable choices difficult or impossible to make.

I love coffee. I love the taste, the feeling of it in my stomach, and the perk it gives me. So I'm not going to give it up. I did for two days, long enough to feel like I had a brain tumor, but not anymore. I drink organic, fair-trade coffee, and it's very rare for me to buy anything else. I take the subway, yes, because I don't want to be soaked with sweat and rain when I get to work. It produces CO2, I know, but it's still better than driving and I take other steps toward making a positive impact.

In Knox County, Kentucky, I had to drive everywhere. Biking wasn't even an option. Not because the distances were too great, but because the roads were so windy and the drivers so reckless. While pedaling wherever I needed to go would have been a nice statement, it could have cost me my life. And that's a legitimate excuse in my book. Which leads me to the biggest challenge I've encountered: Our entire society is designed to make sustainable choices difficult or impossible to make.

Today, we live in an age where the most revolutionary thing we can do is plant some seeds and provide for ourselves.

In an age where multinational corporations provide everything we buy, it is not only revolutionary to live simply, it is considered an act of aggression. Suburbs, urban food deserts, and, craziest of all, rural areas dependent on vehicles to access food, are all purposely designed and incredibly profitable for Exxon-Mobile, McDonald's, and the United States government.

Before, revolutions started with guns and anger. But we are no longer citizens, we're consumers. Today, we live in an age where the most revolutionary thing we can do is plant some seeds and provide for ourselves. And there's going to be resistance. From our friends, our family, our mind, and finally the system. The decision becomes: Where do we fit within or without of the grid?

Tomorrow is Give Back Day. I'll be joining the mini-march from Union Square to the United Nations as part of No Impact Project/350.org's Moving Planet. Let's see who listens.

Discover the benefits of service.

Today, my girlfriend, her family, a dozen others, and I joined 350.org and No Impact Man Colin Beavan in a march from Union Square to Dag Hammarskjold Plaza in front of the United Nations Building for the Moving Planet Rally. There was a part of me that was expecting resistance and anger, perhaps people throwing fast food out their windows and screaming profanities. But really, there wasn't much of any. In fact, along our march people smiled or cheered, and some even picked up a sign and marched with us.

Not only did we give back, we had a blast doing it. The rest of the day, we hung out in our neighborhood and just enjoyed each other's company. No Facebook, no internet, no distractions.

Take a break from everything. Ohm Shanti.

Today was the Eco-Sabbath and I kept it holy. My roommate, her family, and I spent the morning playing the dictionary game, which is basically a carbon-free version of NPR's Says You. It was an absolute ball and all we needed were pencils, a dictionary, some scrap paper, and the sunlight that came through the windows.

After, we walked to Verde on Irving and Bleeker in Bushwick and shared some of the most incredible pizza I've ever had in my life. The restaurant has one of the oldest brick ovens in the city and one of the friendliest owners in the country. He even invited us to a Halloween party he's throwing just around the block from our apartment. If we had schlepped to Carrol Gardens to have a trendy meal, our wallets would be lighter, there would be x amount more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, and we would have no plans for the end of October.

When we returned from lunch, we napped. The best things in life are free, and carbon-neutral. And that has perhaps been the best realization of this week.

As I sit writing this, I find myself impatient to turn my computer off. I want to read a book, or have a conversation, or fix something in my apartment. I want to light some candles and I want to turn the power off.

Tonight, I'll eat a simple meal of beans and tortillas with my girlfriend and her sister. Tomorrow, I'll go to work and continue life as I was living it before this week. But in my bag will be a local pear and a local apple and a paperback novel. I may not bike to work, but I know in my heart that I will soon.

I will not let my Saturdays slip by and after wish I had gone to the farmers market. From now on, they will be planned around a trip to Maria Hernandez Park and a games with my roommates. My Sundays will be spent investing in my neighborhood.

I'm composting, eating locally, thinking about my connection to the Earth, and taking responsibility again, and it isn't keeping me from what I want to do. It's helping me find it.

I'd like to thank YES! Magazine and the No Impact Project for helping me rediscover a passion and join a community in my new home. My No Impact Week has been a blessing, and I hope that I can find a way pass the good fortune on.

Tamar Blogs on No Impact Week

Tamar Samir — 2011-09-19T07:00:00Z

So far this week:

Sunday: Consumption
Tuesday: Transportation
Wedndsday: Food
Saturday: Giving Back

Tamar Samir

New York, New York

I am a Jivamukti Yoga teacher, an animal rights/environmental activist, and a creative director/ design professor based in NYC. In January 2011, I participated in the No Impact Project’s first Eco-Leader training with Colin Beavan in upstate New York. Since then I have lead four No Impact Weeks in New York City, and continue to learn and be inspired by No Impact Week participants.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

This is my sixth time doing No Impact Week. It gets a little easier every time, because in between weeks I slowly integrate more environmentally conscious habits.

The first No Impact Week I did was over a year ago and part of a pilot that Colin Beavan and the No Impact Project were running in New York City. I loved it! I loved the game-like quality of the challenge, but also the moments of introspection it inspired.

I loved No Impact Week so much, that I wanted to share it with everyone I knew. Last January, I participated in the Eco-leadership training offered by the No Impact Project. The training taught how to facilitate No Impact Weeks, and I have lead 4 weeks since then, mostly at yoga studios in Manhattan and Brooklyn.

This No Impact Week’s Give Back Day coincides with the worldwide Moving Planet event on September 24. I decided I wanted the Give Back Day to be my main focus this time. Though my personal habits are not zero impact, I’d like to challenge myself to engage in public action on a larger scale. I believe that individual action and public action are equally important, and that individual action creates the awareness needed to become politically active. Yoga practice can be a form of activism, or a way of cultivating the courage to be an activist and to go against the norm.

: Photo by Daniel Francisco Valdez.

For the past few weeks I’ve been working on organizing a short yoga event to take place at the Moving Planet rally, near the United Nations.

Yoga is an ancient form of movement that is self-propelled and inspired by the natural world. Yoga philosophy proposes a respectful, sustainable relationship with the earth. In this short yoga class at the United Nations, we’ll move together, to make a statement with our bodies, about reverence for the earth and its resources.

This morning, I spent a few hours working on publicity for the event, through yoga blogs, Facebook and Twitter. If you’re in New York on Saturday, I hope you can make it. Here’s the link to the event info on the Moving Planet website.

Burn calories, not fossil fuels.

: My favorite methods for not making trash while on the go in NYC: a glass Mason jar and tea towel.

Photo by Tamar Samir.

I’m lucky to live in NYC. Public transportation is plentiful and it’s pretty easy to walk everywhere. My personal challenge is resisting hailing cabs when I’m running late.

Today was overscheduled as usual, and there were two moments when it was raining and I was very late to an appointment. I considered taking a cab, but managed to resist the urge both times. I walked or took the subway instead. There’s something relaxing in letting go of superhuman expectations that I can leap across midtown in 5 minutes like Hanuman, the monkey deity in the Ramayana. It’s more peaceful to accept that I’ll be late, rather than rush and stress.

When I arrived at the Moving Planet organizers meeting 45 minutes late it didn’t seem to matter at all.

There’s something relaxing in letting go of superhuman expectations that I can leap across midtown in 5 minutes like Hanuman, the monkey deity in the Ramayana.

The organizers had gathered in a small, borrowed office near 34th Street. There were about 12 people at the meeting. Our hosts, the Environmental Action Association, had provided donuts and coffee. Everyone introduced themselves and what they’re doing for Moving Planet. Some were bike captains leading groups to the rally at the United Nations from different locations around New York City. The city revoked the permit to march to the rally. So people marching or riding to the UN have to stay in groups under 50 people, in order to avoid unwanted police attention for congregating. The Williamsburg team captain, Hunter P, has been ticketed by the police for posting tiny flyers in public places.

Everyone liked the yoga action idea. I’m hoping that the sheer weirdness of people doing yoga in the midst of a political rally will draw media attention to the issue of moving away from fossil fuels. We discussed the weather—there’s a 50 percent chance of rain for Saturday, but as the 8-year-old son of one of the organizers pointed out, there’s also a 50 percent chance of sun. We exchanged emails and flyers, so that we can promote each other’s initiatives. It’s inspiring to see what a small group of passionate people is able to do with a small budget, little time, and lots of setbacks.

If you’re in NYC and want to join one of the bike rides to the rally, you can join Hunter’s team, leaving from the Williamsburg bridge at 12:30pm on Saturday, or check out the Moving Planet website for a complete list of bike teams and marches.

Healthy eating can also lessen your footprint.

I did my first No Impact Week in January, almost two years ago, and it was rough! The local food challenge, combined with my vegan diet and New York winter weather, left me feeing a bit disgruntled and starved, with nothing to eat but onions, potatoes, yams, and carrots. The challenge forced me to cook, which I usually avoid.

: The Union Square farmers market in the rain.

Photo by Tamar Samir.

In contrast, July through October is an abundant time at the Union Square Greenmarket. Here’s what’s in season now: potatoes, onions, cabbage, beets, carrots, rutabaga, turnips, shallots winter squash, broccoli, bok choy, collards, lettuce, spinach, cucumbers, radishes, chard, summer squash, zucchini, leeks, tomatoes, kale, green beans, scallions, snap peas, celery, corn, eggplant, cauliflower, bell peppers, Brussels sprouts, apples, raspberries, plums, pears, and more!

Having done No Impact Week at different times of year, I now have a deeper appreciation and awareness of seasonal, local food. Although I’ve been vegan for a while, I was a ‘junk food vegan’ when I started out. I ate mostly packaged foods. When I eat fresh, local, unprocessed, plant foods, I feel the difference in my body. After eating a salad or drinking a green juice, I can literally feel the flow of nutrients in my bloodstream; my arms tingle as the nutrients absorb. Every time I do No Impact Week, I recommit to this healthier, more sustainable way of eating. Cheaper too.

I’ve been vegetarian for 20 years and vegan for five years. The longer I live, my commitment to being vegan deepens. It started as a simple aversion to the taste and texture of meat; but now veganism is an essential aspect of my life. By choosing this way of eating, my intent is to do the least amount of harm to others and to the environment.

Many people don’t know that one third of all fossil fuels consumed in the U.S. go to raise animals for food. If we all stopped eating animals or even just reduced the amount of meat in our diets, we could significantly lessen our reliance on fossil fuels, and simultaneously improve our health.

This week has been busy and I haven’t had much time to go shopping. I’ve been finishing up food that I have at home, supplementing with local fruit, and eating out at the vegan café at the yoga center where I work—they cook with a lot of local foods from the farmers market.

Here’s a recipe for a delicious raw bok choy salad, from my friend Martha in Amangansett. I’m going to get some bok choy at the farmers’ market this morning and make it for dinner. You can swap out ingredients based on what’s local in your area.

Raw Bok Choy Salad
Slice bok choy or baby bok choy thinly, about 6-8 cups (it will shrink as it marinates). Add 2-3 finely chopped green onions, and dried cranberries (substitute local, seasonal berries).

Dressing

1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup vinegar
1 tablespoon tamari
1 tablespoon agave/ other local sweetener
Put dressing on salad to taste. Let salad sit for a couple of hours to marinate. It will be good the next day too. Toss in local seeds/nuts right before serving.

More stories from No Impact Wednesday: Food

Discover the benefits of service.

Yesterday was the soggiest, rainiest day New York has seen for a while, and the forecast predicted rain for today as well. A lot of the Moving Planet NYC organizers, myself included, were concerned about how this would affect attendance at the Moving Planet rally. There was a flurry of activity last night on Facebook, Twitter, and email reiterating that the events would go on rain or shine.

In the end, the weather held out, the sun came out, and it stayed dry. The yoga action began as planned at 1:30 p.m. with only a few people, but as time went on, we had more people gradually join in. My co-teacher, Jessica Stickler, had planned a yoga sequence that created an almost 360-degree turn, kind of like a moving planet. Some people had brought mats and yoga clothes and some just practiced as they were. There was one particularly striking man in a yellow shirt that despite his dress pants and dress shoes, practiced tree pose with great ease and poise!

Yoga is a practice of showing respect to the earth and everyone seemed to get that. We had a lot of cameras on us, though none were press, I think. You can watch a short video of the class here.

After yoga we stayed to hear the speakers. Colin Beavan (aka No Impact Man) spoke words of encouragement and optimism to the rally. He said: “We are here not because of what we think, but because of what we feel." He reminded us that hundreds of thousands of compassionate citizens around the world, just like us, want to do something about the climate crisis; they want to fill the world with love and compassion.

It was great to see all the Moving Planet organizers that I had met earlier in the week—everyone was in good spirits and radiating a sense of accomplishment.

See more pictures from today’s Giving Back Day here.