Live Waste Free

writing took a temporary hiatus as I headed from Humboldt County south to Sacramento for a new job. the last month has been filled with packing boxes, borrowing a cargo van, and venturing into a new town and a new chapter.

for several weeks prior to my departure, I browsed online rental postings and tried to make sense of how I would move to a new city with so little. without a car, options for where to live were limited. midtown was suggested as the best option, close to restaurants and bars, walking or by bicycle. this grid in the center of Sacramento also placed me close to public transportation, which I would need to rely on to travel to and from the campus. emails were sent, photos exchanged, and eventually, I found what I thought would be the perfect place, a small 300-square-foot studio with a Murphy bed built into the wall.

the built-in bed was the first sign to me that this was my place. after giving up everything I owned almost a year ago, I had spent the better part of the last twelve months moving from one place to another, staying with friends and family, traveling through Europe and sleeping in hostels and the homes of locals, and lastly, resting for several months in a residence hall. at no point had I acquired a new bed, nor did I have the funds to furnish a large apartment. the Murphy meant slumbering in a bed that I would not have to inflate. perhaps the more important sign was that the owner of the property was patient and kind and caring, willing to consider a tenant in transition, and open to helping support me in my next steps toward settling into a new home.

on arrival in Sacramento, the landlord and I met to view the property. when I entered the small space, I was immediately overcome with anxiety and a sense of not knowing at all how I would possibly fit the contents of the cargo van into a room this size. and it was simply that, a room measuring 15 x 20 feet with a barely existent kitchen and a bathroom so narrow I had to weave around the sink and the toilet to reach the shower stall. it seemed an impossible feat, to squeeze inside this studio for any length of time at all. graciously, I thanked the woman for her time and then declined her offer to rent the property. having not had a place to really call mine for over a year, all I really wanted was to feel that I had found my spot.

many hours of making more appointments to view apartments made my first day in Sacramento more stressful than I had wanted. everything was either too big or too expensive, too far from mass transit or too likely to get rented out to someone else. and the waiting time to obtain approval and acquire keys would have delayed the whole process by days, time that I did not have to give. nothing else was an option, and after finally hitting my threshold for stress, I broke down in tears and decided what I really needed was to not keep looking. what I needed was a 300-square-foot studio with a built-in bed that I could call my own for awhile. it was nearby everything that I needed and wanted, including the bus stop. and so I called the landlord and begged to be her tenant.

by 5pm, the majority of contents from the cargo van had been taken to the second-floor studio and set in place. the big pieces included a three-shelf bookcase I snagged off a student moving out of the dorms this past spring, a fold-up side table my parents had purchased and donated to their daughter, a small beat-up shelving unit I stole from outside a second-hand store on my way into town, and a three-drawer antique dresser I bought from a colleague. everything else I owned was wedged into boxes and plastic bins. but, there was limited space to store anything, and so every item required being assigned a specific place.

living in 300 square feet has had its challenges, and while I first thought I could never make it work, the time I have spent settling in has opened my eyes and my heart to a very simple way to live. in order to enjoy more living space, I nestle my pillows into a basket near my bed, tuck up the corners of my linens, and push the Murphy up and into its place. the size of the kitchen requires that I store wine glasses on the bookshelf and other items in the stove or on top of the refrigerator, a smaller-than-average appliance that provides a counter top for cutting vegetables or drafting to-do notes. time in the restroom requires a bit of maneuvering, as it is impossible to wash my face without my rear bumping into the wall behind me, and using the toilet requires sitting somewhat sideways.

perhaps the biggest shift, and the one most associated with living (more) waste free, is that my once consumptive tendencies have taken a turn toward nonexistent. it is impossible to purchase new items when they have no where to go, and what I do buy is immediately subjected to a one-in-one-out policy (donated for reuse, never trashed) simply because that is the only option. this is not to say that I have ceased shopping. spending time searching a thrift store or garage sale for something unique will remain a favorite way to spend time, and yet the impulse to purchase now comes with pause and often means putting things back instead of buying.

stocking the kitchen is also a thing of the past now that I have very little room to store dry goods or other groceries. instead, I shop more often and buy only what I need and know I will eat. a new bicycle zips me quickly to local farmer’s markets or the co-op where I can buy fresh and then fit what I buy in the basket. there is no room in the freezer to store frozen goods, and it feels good to know that the food I consume is contributing to a healthier way of life.

most importantly, I have found a home. a colleague of my father’s shared with him a Filipino proverb that says, “habang maiksi ang kumot, dapat matutong mamaluktot.” translated into English, it means that when the blanket is short, we should learn to curl up. curling up is exactly how I would describe fitting into 300 square feet. the blanket is short but it is no less home.

sincerely, sara kathleen

when I share with people that I do not own a television, the responses tend to range from raised eyebrows to some expression of surprise. last May, the majority of my personal belongings made their way into the hands of friends or random buyers as I prepared to spend ten weeks in Europe living out of a backpack.

without a job (or a job to come home to), I did not want to put money into storing all that I had accumulated over the years. instead, I decided to part with most of the things I assumed I needed, only to find out along the way and upon my return that most of what I owned I never thought about again once it was gone. the television was one of them. my good friend Emily purchased my very large flat screen tv before I left on my travels, and it fit perfectly at her place. it had found a new home and I new it was in good hands.

ten weeks traveling alone led to a good deal of reflection about what I had left behind and what was ahead of me. everything had been left behind, and at the same time, I had everything to look forward to. but that everything was something other than stuff. rather, it was the rest of my life and all that I wanted to squeeze out of it. sitting in front of the television tended to get in the way of that goal.

not only does life without television (and all the necessary accessories) mean far less use of electricity, but I find that I have far more space in my life to participate in the interests that I enjoy… yoga, writing, reading, listening to music, and spending time with friends. the list is endless.

sure, I try to catch occasional episodes of my favorite shows online. or, I set up time with friends for movie nights, the Academy Awards, or whatever happens to have our attention at the time. but for the most part, I am tv free. and I love it.

sincerely, sara kathleen