Ice Cream Cones Are Eco-Friendly (and Other Thoughts on Precycling)

Think before you spend. I've heard it before, a thousand times over, and I bet you have, too: this concept of pausing before making a purchase in order to avoid buyer's remorse.

A couple of weeks ago, while flipping through an issue of TIME, I came across a word that puts a new spin on this old adage. Have you heard of precycling?

Simply put, precycling is a way of reducing waste by limiting consumption. But it's not just a way of saying, "Hey, don't buy that." Rather, precycling encourages you to consider the packaging whenever possible and make the most environmentally responsible choice. Let's take ice cream as an example:

You're next in line at your favorite ice cream shop and have your heart set on some cool, creamy hazelnut. "Cup or cone?" the guy behind the counter asks you. Assuming the temperature is not in the triple digits and you're not going to be walking along cobblestone streets in high heels, you go with the cone for its edible receptacle. No paper or (gasp!) Styrofoam cup, no spoon, no straw, no lid. Just a little, biodegradable paper wrapper.

There are countless (easy!) ways to bring a precycling mindset into your daily life:

• Bring a travel mug with you to the coffee shop (or take a seat and enjoy your java in a ceramic mug)
• Buy the whole head of romaine lettuce rather than a cellophane sack of pre-cut leaves
• Squeeze your own orange juice (so much better than the stuff in a carton)
• Use the reverse side of your print-outs as scrap paper rather than buy a new notebook
• Say no to paper napkins, plastic forks, and wooden chopsticks with your take-out (You do have your own travel utensils, right?)
• Choose bar soap over a plastic bottle of shower gel

Maybe, like me, you're already an avid precycler and didn't even realize it. Just having a name to put to it makes it even easier to think of all the ways you can reduce excess waste or increase the return on your original investment. Really, the opportunities are endless.

What environmentally minded, economical changes have you made in your own life recently? Please, do tell. It's the little things, I believe, that really add up!

P.S. Speaking of little changes, I highly recommend Vanessa Farquharson's blog, Green as a Thistle,  for oodles of inspiring eco-minded things you can do to greenify your life--including sleeping naked. Check it out.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because less really is more. (Image courtesy of mollypop via Creative Commons.)

My Time Out

It came out of nowhere as the workday neared its end. One minute I was making progress on my to-do list; the next I was in complete meltdown mode. Inconsolable, indefatigable, petulant.  I needed a time out--or a miniature Milky Way Midnight.  I called my boyfriend at home and explained, with all the ration I could muster, that I did not want to grill seafood for dinner, nor did I want to eat any vegetables. I did not want to go to the grocery store, cook dinner, or pick up something ready-made. I was hungry and  just wanted dinner to appear without either of us having to cook. I blamed it all on my lunch: a lovely pocket sandwich filled with a homemade bean dip, sprouts, cucumber, red pepper, carrots, avocado, and tomato. And now I had bacon on the brain. Or maybe an ice cream sundae.

Somehow, I made it to the grocery store. I staggered through the aisles, managed to run over my own foot with the cart, and left the store with an odd assortment of food, including a few mozzarella sticks from the prepared foods counter--which I ate before even leaving the parking lot.

Once home, I collapsed on the couch and ate slices of Swiss cheese and Sun Chips while watching that awful show about the Kardashian sisters on E! I didn't feel any better. I puttered around upstairs. I hovered over Andrew. I hovered over the cat. Finally, at my wit's end, I cleared a space in our spare room, swung my legs up the wall, and closed my eyes.

Twenty minutes later I reemerged, a whole new Holly. It wasn't long before I was in the kitchen running a knife through some fresh herbs and zesting a lemon for this delightful lemon spaghetti dish (how I managed to pick up parsley and cream in my state of mind earlier, I do not know).

So, did I learn any lessons while in my self-imposed time out? Glad you asked!

While a Milky Way Midnight (or 17) would have been delightful for a moment, what I was really craving most were a few slow, deep breaths. With all systems a go, go, go--and a to-do list that was growing by the hour--I had flat-out forgotten to pay attention to myself.

Viparita karani (a.k.a. legs up the wall, one of my favorite yoga poses) has a magical way of soothing my nervous system and draining tension from my limbs. Lying still and with my eyes closed, the deep breaths I needed a few hours earlier suddenly flowed easily. No fancy props needed (though they're nice), this pose is completely worth you clearing a place along the wall and giving it a try at home.

• Sit parallel to the wall with your hip right along the baseboard, knees bent and feet flat on the floor.
• Turn your hands so that your fingertips face the wall
• Begin to lower your back to the floor as you raise your legs up the wall
• Give yourself a little wiggle so that your backside is in nice and close to the wall
• Rest your arms by your side--above or below your head--with your palms facing up
• Give your shoulder blades a little tuck, rolling them back and down
• Exhale

With your eyes closed and nothing to do and nowhere else to be, use your breath to sweep away whatever it is that's cluttering your mind or weighing you down. Feel your chest rise and fall as you recharge your mental batteries, breathing in just as deeply as you let go on the out breath. Maybe you even choose a short little mantra to repeat to yourself, letting it absorb into your psyche with each inhale annd exhale.

If the logistics (i.e., working in an office) get in the way of you being able to slide your leg up the wall, just work with the breath component of this pose. Even if it means you have to hide out in a bathroom stall. Save the chocolate for another time when you can truly enjoy it. For now, just find your breath . . . perhaps for the first time today.

 _________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. Ahhh, the power of positive thinking and deep breaths. (Photo credit: Debra McClinton)

Capture Memories, One Sentence at a Time

I have a thing for remembering dates and events, big or small. Some people take oodles of photos, piece together artsy scrapbooks, or maintain detailed journals. I, however, store most of my memories on a little mental calendar in the deep recesses of my brain.

I like it that way. Memories are my absolute favorite souveniers. But I'm getting older and I can admit that my once-photographic memory occasionally goes on the fritz. So, I'm thinking it's time to do something about it. Enter Gretchen Rubin's Happiness Project and her ideas for keeping a non-journal. Or, as I prefer to call it, a memory calendar.

The concept is about as low-pressure and easy to maintain as they get. Not to mention, it takes up practically no space. Simply:

• Buy a datebook with the month and day (no year) printed at the top of each page. (Or create your own using a nice notebook. Just make sure it has enough pages!)
• Write a one-sentence entry for each day that has an event or memory that you'd like to hold on to over the years.
• Keep adding to it until the book is full.
• Repeat.

Just one sentence. That's all it takes to serve as a rich memory jogger. A few words that can transport you back on a multisensory journey to that table for two on your first date ten years ago. From his adorable smile to his expressive eyes to his chatty personality. All as vivid as if it took place yesterday. All still true today.

 _________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. Even more happily ever after than Shrek and Fiona. (Image courtesy of Y0si via Creative Commons.)

Note Worthy

Last summer, I spent a leisurely long weekend in San Francisco where I filled my days with fresh air and sunshine, good coffee and good wine, and the company of one of my best friends. It was delightfully restful and not the least bit touristy. On my last day in town, while walking back from a yoga class at International Orange, I spotted a piece of paper nestled in some leaves alongside a chain-link fence separating a schoolyard from the street. Noticing a child's penmanship, I stopped to give it a closer look.

What a simple and profound message to come across! And written by someone so young. Heavy and light all at once. I snapped a photo and left the index card right where I found it.

A few steps later, I spotted this:

And then this:

Was this part of a school assignment? Remnants of the previous school year? Were they planted here as a pick-me-up for unsuspecting folks such as myself? Hands down, these three photos--and the experience of coming across these messages one at a time--were the best souvenir I could imagine bringing home back east.

I was reminded of this exquisite experience this afternoon when I came across a post on a very cool blog called Operation NICE that encourages individuals to be proactively nice. It's creator, Melissa, is brimming with heartfelt enthusiasm. Today on Operation NICE, she talks about leaving NICE notes, which are simply a few kind words penned for the benefit of a stranger. Much like those schoolyard notes I found at the intersection of Pine and Steiner, I have no doubt that a NICE note can have a profound impact on its passersby.

"Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I cannot take it, like my heart's going to cave in."                                                                                                                    -- American Beauty

Have you ever come across something random and profound when you least expected it? If so, please share. I'd love to hear your stories.

 _________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. Tangible souveniers are so 1984. (All three photos are © Holly Sivec)

Maybe I Was Born to Run

Personal productivity experts say that one of the best ways to help you achieve your goals is first to put them in writing and then to share your plans with others. So, that's exactly what I'm doing, right here and right now. I am going to start running.

I had pretty much written this off a no-go quite a few years ago, remembering how silly I looked running (or so I was told) as a child, and later as a teen. With my legs flapping and my arms flopping, I too believed it wasn't a pretty sight. No big deal though; I had plenty of other activities to occupy my hours and never gave running a second thought.

Exercise has never really been my thing--that is, until I discovered yoga back in 1994. Heart-thumping, liberating, acrobatic, and introspective all at once, this package deal clicked with me and my long limbs right away. I quickly subscribed to its noncompetitive spirit and never looked back.

However, my body is calling out for some cardio--and my soul is begging for more time outdoors. I enjoy my alone time, like listening to eclectic music, and am inspired to introduce another healthy habit into my life. I need balance. So what if I have floppy arms? So what if my stride makes me look like I am hopping over puddles?

"You achieve much once you stop telling yourself you can't do things."                                                                                   -- Elizabeth Kadetsky

Here I go. I'll start this weekend; one foot in front of the other, one minute at a time. Cool Running has a Couch to 5K running program for raw beginners. In two months--with a commitment of training just three times per week--I should be able to run a 5K (that's just over 3 miles for those of us who never really learned the metric system) by the beginning of October. Just as the air starts to develop its New England crisp and the leaves begin to change colors. All the more reason to be outside.

I've satisfied the productivity experts by declaring my plans. Next, it's time to answer to the fitness pros and register for a race. My favorite part of this assignment is that so many of them are tied to some sort of charity or nonprofit cause. So, pick your platform and let that serve as motivation and inspiration to kick butt.

The plan:

• Get fitted for a new pair of sneakers from the pros at Marathon Sports. Resist the nagging temptation to purchase a heart rate monitor or a cute running skirt.
• Take a nice, long walk in my new sneakers to break them in. Load up the mp3 player with some good, rollicking music.
• Sign up for an upcoming 5K run/walk. (I'm eyeing one in my old neighborhood that benefits the Travis Roy Foundation; I wish the Boston Race for the Cure was a bit later!)
• Begin the Couch to 5K program, starting with 60 seconds of jogging followed by 90 seconds of walking, for a total of 20 minutes.
• Keep at it--three times a week for the next two months, along with twice weekly yoga.
• Celebrate!

Can I do it? Of course I can. Not only am I really looking forward to spending more time outdoors--and getting in better shape--but I'm excited to carve out this additional 90 minutes per week to do some additional mental housekeeping. To-do lists, goals lists, daydreaming, story ideas, more daydreaming . . . bring it on. 

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© 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. (These two photo copyrights are not my own--though I wish I could claim them. Don't you just love that dog face?)

Travel Utensils: Not Just for Weirdos

While in college, I briefly dated this guy who carried his own set of chopsticks. I can still remember diving into our take-out containers, my girlfriends and I all watching as he unceremoniously removed those glossy red sticks from his messenger bag. The most outspoken of the bunch asked him why, point blank, did he carry his own chopsticks. The tone of her inquiry rang out weirdo alert, weirdo alert. Admittedly, I agreed. (Forgive me; it was the mid-1990s and I was just a wee twentysomething.) "Because I never know when I'll need them," he replied in earnest.

Fast-forward a dozen-plus years . . . to today. I'm sitting in the Upper Crust, taking a little time out of my busy day to keep the staycacation vibe going by treating myself to lunch outside of the office. (I had a buy one slice, get one free coupon, so this was a budget friendly splurge. Plus, a girl needs to eat.) I had forgotten how big and floppy their by-the-slice pizza could be. The type of pie where you're wise to fork-and-knife it at least halfway up. Especially when you're wearing a white jacket and a light-colored blouse.

Reluctantly, I picked up a plastic fork and knife along with my paper napkins. And because I was really thirsty--and forgot my water bottle back at the office--I poured myself some water in a plastic cup. Other than wishing I hadn't forgotten my water bottle, my first thought was, I sure wish I had some travel utensils so I didn't have to rely on the disposable stuff.

Pot? Kettle? Yes, indeed.

Truth be told, my handbag is heavy enough without adding a fork, knife, and spoon to the mix. But it just seems so wasteful to pitch the plastic. Perhaps if it were recyclable, I'd feel a little bit better. Fortunately, I'm not often faced with a need for plastic utensils. I have my own set of stainless at work (along with my mug, plate, and bowl). But for those rare occasions, I think this would be a pretty easy switch. It's the type of thing I could even just stash in the glove compartment. I'm much more likely to use a fork than I am that tire pressure gauge.

A few days ago, Simple Savvy posted a cool tutorial on how to make your own utensil set. How neat, I thought--until I saw how much sewing was involved. But there's nothing keeping me from rolling a fork, knife, and spoon in a cloth napkin, tying it up, and carrying it with me next time I find myself faced with a big, floppy slice of pie.

N.B. I brought the plastic utensils home for washing and reuse, and the cup for recycling; only used three paper napkins; and managed not to get a drop on my clothes. Go me.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because less really is more.