on upcycling

Upcycling is the new, or at least relatively new to me, phrase for using something that might otherwise be thrown away. It’s another one of those things, those words, those ideas that I stumble upon and say to myself, “self, that’s great! That’s radical! That’s the way life should be!”. Then, after my total excitement about how “new” this great idea is I realize how far we’ve strayed, and how far we have to go.

Upcycling is a new word for making do, using up, not wasting, being frugal. Upcycling is what every family history story I’ve ever heard was all about. My New England ancestors upcycled, but would have laughed at the word. They didn’t do this on purpose, they just did it because it’s what you did. How silly is it to travel crazy lengths to buy something for a lot of money that you could make yourself for free with what you find around the house in an hour. It was probably entertainment and adventure before the days of 24 and Lost.

In the very recent past I thought I had to move, today, immediately, or at least as soon as life would allow it. There are too many reasons for this to understand or fully explain, but a huge one was that this house, this lot and this place couldn’t do what I wanted and needed to do with my home right now. It couldn’t. It just couldn’t and I was weary from trying to figure out a way AROUND being able to do these things I needed.

I needed to grow some food. Because I think we all should (I recently read that the average American grass lawn could provide over 50% of the food for the family inside the house). Plus, it’s cheaper which right now is a plus. And it gets me outside… which just makes me better.

I needed nature and had no transportation to go find it, and the birds sitting on the power lines just weren’t doing it. Yes the morning dove seemed to try it’s best to sooth me with it’s coos, but when I looked out at it I just saw the power lines. I needed nature. I needed peace and quiet. I needed to be away from here.

But then, a month later, after we bushwacked, arms scarred from the feisty wild rose thorns, arms covered with a modern art fresco of tan lines, one arm filled out with large shoulder muscles (one side looks like pop-eye, one side still looks like me), and with a few too many new slug friends… I don’t need to leave, at least not right now, not immediately.

An overgrown, thorny, thick, ugly, and I thought completely inaccessible lot behind and to the side of the house has been burrowed through, and I can again get excited about seed catalogs. Yesterday walking through I was amazed we did this in a month, especially since the in-house projects have continued.

Today it would seem that it’s often easier to throw away than to keep. It’s easier to move than to make it work. It’s easier to quit than to deal with it. I don’t think this is always true. It’s easier to think about these things. It’s harder to think about staying with something, keeping something that’s causing pain, anger or frustration. But putting the same energy into staying, making work, upcycling as we do trying to move away or throw away, seems to accomplish about the same. The later is less wasteful, and maybe, at least sometimes, more fulfilling. While sometimes we do need to quit, move or leave, maybe sometimes we really should stay.