193

 Imperfection and change

When capturing sustainability practices in pictures, it is easy to misrepresent what this lifestyle looks like in reality. While I was travelling to Örebro and back, on a few occasions I thought I had to take a photo of a plastic bottle with a smoothie that I bought. But then my thoughts were elsewhere. 

When my fellow humans ask me about my lifestyle, I say that it's a constellation of minimalism and extreme minimalism, zero-waste practices, voluntary simplicity, deep ecology. There are many elements of slow and simple living. I've never felt like one word can capture what I'm doing. For this reason, I refer to it as being of deep transformations. 

At times, I felt that the constellation of practices was almost constant. Some things remain almost the same. For example, my sufficiency list, a playful list of necessary (to me) items I sketched many years ago, is more or less the same. But more recently I decided to highlight imperfections, changes, nuances, constraints much more. 

On the way to Örebro, our train was delayed. Before that journey, I didn't plan much. With all the things that have been unfolding, such as deciding what to do about harassment from the manager, I had no energy to plan. In fact, I got my tickets the day before I was supposed to depart. My colleague and I picked up some food on our way there. We got some water, coffee and a snack free of charge from Swedish railways too. On the way back, we didn't have much time to eat out, so we went to a supermarket. I got smoothies, one of which was in a plastic bottle. In Sweden, I also got some painkillers. Hormonal contraception pills that I'm taking not only come in plastic, but also cause much pain, so I get more pills (painkillers) in plastic. I forgot to bring my painkillers from Denmark, so I went to a pharmacy in Sweden to buy more. All of this generates waste. 

The only food items in the supermarket that were unpackaged and that I could eat easily in a train are baked goods, but this is not something I want to consume often. 

Another item, apart from multiple plastic packages, that came into my life recently is a bracelet made from aventurine crystals. I never liked jewellery and always avoided wearing it. My ears were pierced when I was around three, without my consent. Many metals irritate my skin, and most jewellery items generally feel uncomfortable. So originally I stopped wearing jewellery not for sustainability reasons but rather due to my skin condition and sensitivity. Then somewhere on my minimalist path I began to think about the ecological and social impact of jewellery and societal expectations. But recently my partner gave me a bracelet as a gift. It's made from stones, so it doesn't irritate my skin. He gave the bracelet to me just before my journey to Sweden, and having this item with me reminded me of him. I also find this bracelet beautiful. I've been wearing it constantly since I got it. 

192

 Living with furniture

While I was away in Sweden, one of our final pieces of furniture, the table, arrived. After living furniture-free, I moved in with my partner. We agreed to have some pieces of furniture: a clothes rack, a bench, a bed frame, a table and some chairs from his previous apartment. 

Organising this small space without furniture was difficult, and to me it seems that the clothes rack especially made a big difference. No longer did we have all our clothes on the floor. Even though we don't have many items and practise minimalism, it feels that the furniture made the space better organised, and our space also looks cosy now. I also feel that I can invite my fellow humans to visit us, and they will not feel uncomfortable. When I lived furniture-free, I'm not sure any of my guests enjoyed sitting on the floor. It might not be pleasant for those who are not used to it, or those who suffer from pain. 

I don't think we will have to invite new furniture into our space ever again, and it feels liberating. Every item we bought with an intention to keep it forever and with a hope to pass our furniture to fellow humans in the end of our lives. To me furniture feels like something humans can get once and never replace. This is certainly not how my family of origin approached the subject. To them, furniture was replaceable. I find this change in attitudes interesting. Older generations are often seen as more frugal, more caring towards the items they live with. At least in my family it's the opposite.