429

 Stone as a gift

Both my partner and I are sustainability researchers. We strongly believe in the unity of theory and practice, so we practise minimalist living together. We try to live with what is sufficient for us. We value simplicity. Gift-giving has never been an important part of our relationship. In fact, we avoid giving material gifts to each other, as we feel that we have everything we need. Yet, recently he gave a wonderful gift to me. It's a stone that he found on a beach here in Denmark. I appreciate this gift a lot because it comes from nature and is something I can return to nature whenever I want. 

Stones are the only decoration we use in our home, apart from occasional flowers. I also usually carry a small stone with me. It helps me feel grounded when I'm in busy areas or when I travel. 

428

 No running water

Recently, we had issues with the water supply. For some days, there was barely any running water. My initial reaction was frustration, but then I felt so much gratitude for this experience. Too often, I take fresh, clean and safe to drink running water here in Denmark for granted. When I sketch my sufficiency list (see previous entry), I don't list things such as clean water and clean air because I take them as a given. When I dive deeper into my needs, I realise that such things are the very basics of a good and comfortable life. Perhaps the same applied to good health and the feeling of safety and security. It is so interesting to observe that, say, status items and home decorations do not matter at all when there is no good health, no running water and no feeling of safety. 

Being present with non-humans such as air and water helps me practise extreme minimalism. As I'm writing these words, the sun is shining after an intense rain. Air, sunlight, water, having a shelter and food, having good health are the basics, the essentials. I do not like shopping, trying on clothes and accessories. But I appreciate standing in the shower and feeling clean and safe water on my skin, or sitting on the balcony and feeling the warmth of the sun. 

There are three magpies sitting on the roof of the building on the other side of the street. They look so striking and elegant. They wear the same outfit every day. Many years ago, I had the same thoughts as I was looking at my cat. That moment with the cat made me realise that I wanted to wear the same outfit every day too, that I didn't need to reinvent myself for different occasions, different days, even seasons and chapters in my life. This reinventing myself feels so unimportant in comparison with water, air and the sun. 

Living an extremely minimalist lifestyle allows me to avoid spending time on serving objects and have more time for being with the air outside and feeling the rays of the sun on my skin. I look after the objects that serve me. Many years ago a fellow human who genuinely believed that having a car equals having freedom said to me, "promise me that you will have a car". I have never had a desire to have a car and to drive. Walking is my favourite mode of transportations, and I use public transport when I cannot walk somewhere. For me, a car would be a burden, something that I would not use, something that would prevent me from engaging with my surroundings more directly and intimately. Whenever I consider inviting something into my life, I usually wonder if it is going to be as useful as the objects in my sufficiency list. I always come to the same conclusion. For instance, a painting on the wall or a dress for some occasion will never be as useful as, say, my laptop (that I use for work) or a bar of soap or a toothbrush. And none of these objects are as essential as clean water and fresh air. One might say that I don't need to choose, that I can have it all. But considering that we (humanity) overconsume, we overuse nature's resources, we do have to choose. 

I do not appreciate top-down approaches to transformations. Policies can and should create nurturing spaces for transformations, but I do believe that the deepest transformation should unfold in our psyche, how we are in the world and relate with the world (the self, human and non-human others, nature, and the universe). It helps me to separate the essentials from non-essentials. Ultimately, genuine needs from wants, whether my own or someone else's. By others' wants I mean, for example, my family members' expectations of how I need to live as an x, y, z person, the wants of men, the wants of a manager, and so on. 

427

 Sufficiency list (summer 2024)

One of the most important tools that I use on my journey is what I call a sufficiency list. When I intentionally stepped on this path of living more sustainably, I dived deep into my practices that existed back then, many years ago. I wrote down everything that I felt I needed to live a comfortable life, and I considered the rest to be just stuff. The stuff was there for different reasons. Some of it were gifts from fellow humans, just-in-case items, items that were just there,  items I didn't know what to do with, items for some occasions, even spontaneous purchases. I was sitting in my room and looking around. I began to sketch the list. The first time I shared it was in my first autoethnographic work. Here is what I included in my list: laptop, phone, headphones, passport and other documents, notebook, pen, shoes, backpack, bank card, personal care items, towels, sweatshirt/t-shirts, trousers/shorts, bowl, fork, spoon, knife, stockpot, dish brush, tote bag, jacket, handkerchief, scissors, blanket, lunch box, mug, scarf, and mittens. I shared the updated version several times in this autoethnography and also in my book. It's interesting to observe that the list doesn't change much. 

As I am writing these words, I live in Copenhagen. The climate here is more gentle than in southern Finland and in northern Sweden where I used to live. My list currently includes:

• Laptop
• Phone 
• Passport & other documents (though very minimal)
• Shoes
• Tote bag
• Bank card
• Personal care items 
• Basic tops
• Shirts
• Trousers/shorts
• Basic kitchen items (stockpot, pan, fork, spoon, knife, bowl, mug, reusable stainless steel container). I share them with my partner.
• Towels. I have none that are my own. I share them with my partner. 
• Dish brush. I share it with my partner. 
• Jacket
• Scissors
• Bedding. I have none that is my own. We have 2 sets each. 
• Scarf. I have one large woollen scarf and one cotton scarf.
• Hair tie. I used to pick them up in the streets, but then I bought some that are made from natural, biodegradable materials. 

I borrow headphones from my partner. 

Here in Denmark it's not as cold as it was in northern Sweden, so I don't own mittens and sweatshirts. 

When I first wrote my sufficiency list, my personal care items included more than I live with now. These days, I live with a toothbrush that is personal. Soap and shampoo I share with my partner. There is also a crystal that my partner uses as a deodorant and that I borrow at times. I don't use anything on my skin that is specialised, such as creams, balms, face washes. I used to use such items before, but my skin looks and feels much better without them. In winter, I might invite a multi-purpose balm into my life. Not long ago, I invited a sunscreen (packaged in paper) into my life. I use it occasionally. Usually I don't talk much about skincare. One reason is my autoimmune skin condition that shaped to a large extent my relationship with skincare products. But something that I feel passionate about is openly saying that I do not support anti-ageing marketing that targets mostly women and makes us feel bad (or even ashamed) about the natural ageing process. 

I still live with a backpack that I use for travelling (which I do rarely) and for my laptop. I don't like this item and much prefer the large cotton tote bag. At times, I simply wrap my laptop in a plastic bag and still put in into the cotton tote bag, but it's not very practical, and water can still get through. It rains much in Denmark, and at times I think that if I say goodbye to the backpack, I will regret it later. Many backpacks are made from synthetic materials which feel unpleasant to me. I am also worried about microplastics that such materials release. Once I had a backpack made from organic cotton, and it was incredibly heavy and wore out in just a few years. 

Recently I stopped using a cotton handkerchief. I needed this piece of fabric for something else. I notice that I used it very rarely. Usually we have some pieces of tissue in our home that we got from bakeries and small ice cream shops. I think my habit to carry handkerchiefs with me goes back to my childhood when I used to have nosebleeds very often. It doesn't happen anymore, so I don't feel I need one. 

Apart from the items in the list, we have a mattress, a table, 4 chairs, a bench, a drying rack, a chest, a yoga mat and a meditation pillow in our home. If I lived on my own, I would have none of those things apart from the yoga mat. In fact, I lived without furniture when I was based in Finland and was single. We have built-in storage in this apartment. In my partner's child's bedroom, there is her bed, bedding, her books, clothes, toys and other small items. 

To clean our home, we use baking soda and soap, but no specialised products (such as window cleaning solutions, floor cleaning solutions etc.). We have a large bottle of dish washing liquid that we use to refill the smaller bottle we have. We use liquid soap that we also refill from a large container. I don't use soap on my body, only on my hands. We used to use bar soap but water in Copenhagen is hard, and soap residue contributed to blocked drains. We still use bar soap at times. For laundry, we use unscented laundry sheets that come in cardboard packaging. 

We have two lamps (one in the child's bedroom) but no other sources of light. We use natural light. There is built-in light in the bathroom and the kitchen area. 

We also have some medicine, and my partner has some basic tools to fix small things around our home. 

There are no decorations in our home apart from the stones and flowers we borrowed from nature. 

There is an orchid plant that was a gift and a mint plant that we bought. 

I also live with one piece of jewellery, my engagement ring. 

We have several upcycled jars (they came with food). I use them as glasses and vases. I also use them for storage (e.g., to store some items I use to repair clothes).

We have several cotton bags that I keep close to the entrance door, so we always take one with us.

I think that sufficiency is possible when it's part of some constellation of values. Other important values for me are simplicity and gentleness (towards the self, fellow others and nature). Experiencing gentleness towards the self and the world allows me to see what is truly important with more clarity. For example, accepting myself as I am and trusting that fellow others will do the same allows me to avoid taking part in fast fashion and consuming status items. 

426

 What empowers

In the coming months, I will be writing another autoethnographic work. In it, apart from disclosing my practices, I will dive deeper into what empowers my practice. I often discuss what constrains me and my fellow humans on sustainability paths, and I will continue to do so. It's a very important part of autoethnography. But to balance this, I also want to focus a little bit more on the empowering factors. 

I haven't studied these factors yet, so what follows are just some notes. Before I contemplate empowering factors, I will say what motivates me. It's harmonious co-existence between humans and nature and a desire that I sense deep in my psyche to contribute to bringing it about. In my academic work, I say that my reasons for practising this mode of being are ecological, spiritual, and aesthetic. Over time, I realised that there are also health related and financial reasons. I'm not sure if the ecological and the spiritual reasons should be separated. On a spiritual level, I feel oneness with nature and the universe, so I don't want nature's degradation. I feel pain on a somatic level when I witness trees being destroyed to create parking spaces. 

Many things enable me to practise this mode of being that is perhaps best described as a constellation of zero-waste, simple living, slow living, minimalism and extreme minimalism practices. 

As for inner factors, it is having a certain philosophy or a worldview. It was originally enabled, I believe, by living in nature for many years, developing nature-based practices from my childhood. Then this worldview was enabled by education and my work, part of which is reading (deep ecology, post-growth). Having simple tools enables me in my practice. Here I mean things like this autoethnography or taking notes. Having a sufficiency list. Having inner dialogues. Solitude enables me as well.

As for external factors, nature empowers me. For a long time, I couldn't have spiritual experiences in the city, Copenhagen, where I live. I missed nature as I experienced it in southern Finland and northern Sweden. Over time, I found ways to connect with nature, even if it's been heavily transformed by humans. I watch sunrises and sunsets. I stand on my balcony in the rain. I go to gardens, parks and to the sea. It takes me an hour or so to get to the beach in Amager on foot, but I always feel a calling of the sea and a deep desire or even a need to step into the sea, even when it's cold. I connect with nature when I hold the stones I brought home from the beach. 

Something that I missed in Copenhagen were large expanses of nature. Looking over the sea in Finland helped me overcome challenges and decide to move to Denmark. The sea was so vast and timeless in comparison to some manager's ambitions and harassment. In Denmark, I started watching the sky more, something I was doing when I lived in England. 

Apart from nature and non-human beings, there are fellow humans and even systems that empower me on my journey. My partner is a fellow researcher of sustainability transformations who, like me, believes in the unity of theory and practice. Before we met, he already practised vegetarianism, avoided flying as much as possible, bought organic food. After we met, he adopted minimalism. We practise minimalism together. We write about sustainability (post-growth) together and we discuss sustainability often in our household. Before this relationship, I lived on my own for two or so years, and it was an equally rewarding time in terms of growth. I found some fellow humans who practised sustainable living in different ways. In general, I try to identify such fellow humans so we can share knowledge and empower each other. I listen to their stories and share my own. I very much enjoy discussing sustainable living with elderly persons, as many of the practices I adopt (e.g., repairing clothes, upcycling) existed in their youth. I learn more from such persons than from academic articles. Having said that, academic articles also empower me. 

My main area of expertise is sustainability in business. Businesses, especially small, local and independent ones make my practice possible. Essentially, there is nothing that I produce. Everything that I invite into my life and consume comes from somewhere. Some items come directly from nature, such as foraged food and stones and wild flowers that I use as decorations. But there are not many of such items at all. Here is my sufficiency list that I shared for the first time in my first autoethnographic article: laptop, phone, headphones, passport and other documents, notebook, pen, shoes, backpack, bank card, personal care items, towels, sweatshirt/t-shirts, trousers/shorts, bowl, fork, spoon, knife, stockpot, dish brush, tote bag, jacket, handkerchief, scissors, blanket, lunch box, mug, scarf, and mittens. These days, the sufficiency list looks somewhat different (but not much). Some items are borrowed, shared, inherited, or upcycled. Yet, many I bought. And having small businesses that produce those items in sustainable ways is incredibly helpful. Having access to a cooperative supermarket that has organic and seasonal food is helpful too. 

Apart from businesses, alternative organisations such as libraries and byttestationer empower me. They make it possible to borrow and share objects with my local community. Perhaps my favourite place is our local byttestation in the recycling area of my apartment block. Neighbours can share with each other the objects they don't need or want anymore. 

Various structures and systems empower me. For example, here in Denmark we have good (though expensive) public transport that I rely on if I cannot walk to some destination. The system of recycling is good as well. Healthcare in Denmark is free. I never studied in Denmark, but education is free as well, and I believe it empowers many fellow humans at least in some ways (though universities are still neoliberal). 

I recognise that having access to these various systems, alternative organisations and having supportive relationships is a privilege. But recognising what empowers persons (myself and others) can help us, academics, think of possible ways to make these privileges the norm for everyone. Many of the "privileges" that I mention above, such as free healthcare and good public transport, should be basic rights and entitlements of all humans. 

To end this somewhat long entry, here are some things that constrain me: unstable, precarious jobs and strong hierarchies in academia, migration laws (as a British citizen, I need a reason to be in Denmark, such as work), capitalist organisation of society (e.g., selling labour to survive), norms (e.g., my family perceiving my life as poverty because I practise minimalism), obligations (we cannot move to the countryside because of my partner's childcare responsibilities). 

425

 Simplicity in everyday life

Simplicity is one of the most important values that I live by. 

I try to manifest it in my everyday life in various ways. I try to write simply and never overcomplicate my lectures. I try to offer simple, relatable examples to my students and other fellow humans. I avoid literatures that are written in a pretentious, overcomplicated language, as they are not written with care towards readers coming from different backgrounds, and I don't want to take part in engaging with spaces that are not kind and caring. 

In my consumption practice, I try to buy simple, whole, vegetarian food (usually organic, local, seasonal) and cook from scratch. I cook only simple food. 

I choose simple, neutral colours and organic cotton fabrics, so I can wash all my clothes together and care for them in uncomplicated ways. 

I don't have anything in my home that is incredibly specialised (e.g., special kitchen equipment, special skincare, occasion wear), very expensive, or difficult to care for. 

I wear the same outfit every day. Even when I teach, go for walks, have guests, attend formal meetings. At times, my fellow humans ask me what it feels like to wear casual clothes for more formal occasions. I believe that it's very easy to wear casual clothing when one, say, goes for a walk. Deciding to wear casual clothes when one does a presentation is a little bit more challenging, but this is where change manifests. Over time, it becomes easier and even starts interesting conversations with fellow humans. In the end of the day, what matters is how one is in the world, whether they are a kind, gentle, caring person.

In the picture above is everything I carry with me every day when I don't need my laptop. When I need my laptop, I would take a large cotton tote bag (that I also use for grocery shopping) or a backpack (when it rains). These days, I use a simple fruit bag as a handbag. In it, I have a cotton pouch that I use instead of a wallet. I decorated it with some thread/ribbon that came with some other product a while ago. I also have my keys that are tied together using a ribbon that also came with some product. I also have a tissue that I got from bakery or a small, independent ice cream shop here in Copenhagen. At times, I bring a larger, folded cotton bag too. When I go for a longer walk, I bring a reusable water bottle with me. I never bring anything with me that is a just in case item. I've been practising some form of an alternative lifestyle (simple living, slow living, zero waste etc.) for 15 years or so, and I've only faced a situation where I needed something I had at home only a handful of times. In those cases, I bought those items and then used them up. Such items usually included medicine and plasters. When my partner's child is with us, we usually bring some snacks (dried fruit in a glass jar), water, and sunscreen. 

424

 Living in a bigger home

Three or so weeks ago, we moved. Our old apartment was a small, 40 or so square metres studio flat. The new apartment is very small too, but it has two bedrooms and a balcony. We wanted to move to Valby in Copenhagen because Frederiksberg was very expensive, and our home was too close to a large and busy road. Our new place is close to Frederiksberg (where my partner's child, father and stepmother live), but in a less busy neighbourhood. Another reason for moving was us wanting to have at least one bedroom. When my partner's child stays with us, it feels nice to have some privacy and extra space for her. We try to work from home as much as possible, and having a bedroom separate from the rest of our space is good for meetings. At times, we have guests too, and they stay in the spare bedroom. 

I was wondering what moving to a larger and more permanent home would mean for my practice of extreme minimalism and our common practice of minimalism. Would more space invite more objects? Would we buy new things for the apartment?

We didn't bring everything into the new apartment that we lived with. Our new home is on the top floor, where an attic used to be before the housing company turned this space into a flat 3 or so years ago. This means that our ceiling has interesting and irregular shapes. We decided not to have a bed frame in our bedroom and simply put the mattress on the floor. For many years, I used to live without a bed and I enjoyed it very much. It felt wonderful to return to sleeping on the floor, and this floor bed fits much better into the space with irregular ceiling. It feels cosy, like a nest. We didn't bring our tøjstativ into this space either, as there is built-in storage in this apartment. 

I brought home several stones from the beach in Amager. I use stones as decorations, the only decoration we have at home. At times, I return them to nature. 

My partner's father and stepmother were among our first guests in our new home, and they gave us an orchid as a gift. She now lives with us. We bought a mint plant and a clay pot for her. She lives on our balcony. 

There are some objects that I gave away. They include my copies of our co-authored book. It's very common for publishers to send some copies to the authors. I decided not to keep any and gave them away via our local byttestation because I wanted to give them outside academia, to our community. The electronic version of the book is open access, but some fellow humans prefer to read physical books. Recently, a fellow human visited me, and I gave her an upcycled jar with snacks as she was travelling all the way to Finland by trains and ferry. I've been using glass jars (that came with food like honey, jam and coconut oil) for snacks for many years. It's such a wonderful practice, which I hope fellow humans will adopt. I know many fellow humans who are already doing it. 

Moving to our new home allowed me to be present with everything we live with and organise some objects. We have many simple cotton bags at home, made from organic cotton. We use them for fruit, other food and storing small objects such as medicine and small accessories and toys that belong to my partner's child. I decided to try and use one as an everyday handbag. I've been using cotton tote bags for some years instead of handbags (which I don't own), but small fruit bags seem even more casual and down to earth. Around me, I observe that so often handbags are used as a status symbol. Using a fruit bag as a handbag also communicates something (simplicity, sustainability, affordability and so on). 

We bought a large amount of baking soda which I use for cleaning and removing stains from clothes. It was packaged in paper. Knowing that we will stay in this home for a while made me feel more comfortable about buying such items in larger quantities.

423

Darning egg

I talk about my sustainability practice with my fellow humans very often. It feels so important to create spaces for such conversations. These conversations allow me to see that so many fellow humans also try to live more sustainably in different ways, learn from them and tell more about myself so they can help me on my journey. I enjoy having these conversations with my partner's stepmother. She is my dream woman. An elderly Danish woman with a wonderful and inspiring life story. When she and her husband were visiting us, I told her about my attempts to repair various clothes I live with. When I came to see her, she gave me a wooden darning egg as a gift. She received this egg from her first mother-in-law who was French. So this object has a long story, and I'm very glad that it's not new. Apart from being useful (it is used to repair things such as socks), the darning egg is also very beautiful and pleasant to hold. 

This situation made me think about various empowering factors that play important roles in living a more sustainable lifestyle. In my academic field (degrowth), we so often highlight what constrains transformations of systems and lifestyles. Of course this is essential, as we need to understand constraints deeply, understand why they exist and how to transform or remove them. But I do feel that in doing this, we forget to pay attention to what empowers transformations, what actually helps us on our journeys. We don't pay enough attention to what requires reproduction, what is beautiful and gives hope. 

422

 Growing herbs

I don't grow my own food. We live in a city and will not be able to leave it in the coming many years due to my partner's childcare responsibilities. Recently we moved, and our new home has a small balcony. We decided to grow only edible plants on our balcony. We've started with one of my favourite plants, a beautiful mint. I plan to invite other plants, including lavender and röllika (yarrow) into this space over time. I use all these plants to make tea. 

421

 Deepgrowth

Today I am feeling both sorrow and joy. I'm feeling sorrow because my partner and I gave back the apartment keys to the housing company from which we rented our first home in Copenhagen. We lived there from the Autumn of 2023 and until June 2024. We always knew that this home was temporary, but I developed connection with it. Our home was a small studio apartment. It was a safe space after I resigned from my academic position in Finland. It was a space where my partner and I were figuring out how to practise minimalism together, how to live together. He proposed to me in that home. I wrote my first editorial for Environmental Values there. I believe that my fellow humans reading the editorial would be able to find the exact spot where this apartment is located on the map. Among other things, in the editorial I described what I saw out of our window. In that apartment my partner and I wrote one of our works together. Today this work is out in Ecological Economics, and for this reason I'm feeling joy. The article is called Deepgrowth: Self-transformation towards harmonious being. In the article, we say that for genuine sustainability transformations to happen, deep, spiritual growth is necessary. This growth is both empowered and constrained by social structures, and we dive into the nature of those social structures. 

In the picture above is a magical grapevine growing in a garden in Frederiksberg. When I moved to Denmark from Finland, one of the first things I noticed were fig trees and grapevines. Denmark, usually seen as a cold country, felt very warm and southern to me because I met these beautiful plants. 

420

 Being a stepmother and living sustainably

There is no perfect way of living sustainably. There is a variety of ways and constellations of practices. I practise a lifestyle that is a constellation of voluntary simplicity, slow living, zero-waste, and extreme minimalism. I like this word, constellation. I emphasise this constellation in my autoethnographic work because it's possible to practise zero-waste and still fly a lot and to far-away destinations, or to live with 50 personal possessions and overwork, or to live a slow life with a large number of possessions. I try to live in a way that is materially light and slow, simple, intentionally local, and minimises waste. In some ways, I compromise because since the Autumn of 2023 I have lived together with my partner. Even though we share a desire to live more sustainably (both of us are researchers in the field of sustainability), and he doesn't mind minimalism, we live with many more objects than I used to live with when I was single. 

Since I began doing my autoethnography more formally, I've been transparent about my practices and the challenges I face. For the reason of transparency, that I value so much in research, I am maintaining this autoethnographic page which contains all my autoethnographic notes. They serve as my data that I then analyse for my autoethnographic articles. There are some aspects of living more sustainably that I find difficult to write about. My role of being a stepmother and its relation to sustainable living are some of those aspects. 

My partner has a child from his previous relationship. She is 4. I'm involved in her life in very limited ways. Over time, we decided that it is the best approach for all of us. So even though I generally I refer to myself as her stepmother, this term is perhaps not accurate. I don't play a parental role, but I am an adult in her life who cares about her wellbeing and is there for her. Even though my partner sees her often, she stays with both of us only every second weekend, and usually only Friday and Saturday, as my partner and his daughter visit a cottage that he owns with his previous partner. I will not focus on the challenges this situation presents for us a couple, but focus on sustainability aspects of it. 

Children are of course not to blame for the decisions of the their parents, other adults and the way society that pre-exists them operates. They did not choose capitalism and its structures. In fact, they are some of the least agentic fellow humans in society. I was born in 1989 and at that time the world was and felt different. As a small child, I didn't have a laptop, a smartphone and social media accounts. There were plenty of toys that children these days have, such as Barbie dolls and Lego. But as I lived in a remote, rural area (due to my stepfather's job), I enjoyed being with non-humans and nature much more than with human-made plastic creatures. This little girl is growing up in a city, in an affluent municipality, surrounded my fellow children with plenty of possessions and clothes, by adults who shower her with endless plastic objects, shops, technology providing easily accessible entertainment. As an adult, I find it overwhelming, disorientating and anxiety-provoking. I don't know how the psyche of a young human being handles all this. In some ways, I believe, her parents are trying to implement more pro-environmental practices in her upbringing. For example, they avoid red meat and they accept clothes from their family members who have older children. Yet, I do not have a say in how this young fellow human grows up and what practices are implemented. I feel powerless and at times sad about it. 

Recently, the little girl came to visit us with a Barbie doll. I had them when I was her age, too. I didn't like them because I lived with chickens, a dog and a cat whose company I enjoyed so much more. And while these dolls have improved over time (there are more diverse options these days), I still believe it shapes girls' perception about how a female body should look. I also believe that it normalises overconsumption of clothes. I have not seen a Barbie doll wearing simple, repaired clothes. Whenever I question this, parents say to me that children love bright colours. Do they? Perhaps so. I've loved beige and other calming colours since I was very young, while my brother liked brighter colours. 

The girl has an enormous amount of clothes, probably enough to clothe several children. So many of those items are made from polyester and other synthetic materials and come from fast fashion corporations. It is very interesting (and heartbreaking) to observe how girls are indoctrinated into owning a lot of clothes and wearing a different outfit every day, even several times a day. 

She is not involved in normal, everyday activities that can be so playful and fun. When I was her age, I was so excited to take part in cooking, for example. In our society currently, it feels as if there is an assumption that children must always play and be entertained. One form of entertainment follows another one immediately. A never ending what's next. It is constant doing and constant consuming (goods and services including various media content). She does and consumes much more in her day than I do as an adult. In post-growth scholarly work, we talk about slowness and the need to do less, do simple activities (such as walking) and be more. Yet, this is not how this fellow human and her fellow children are brought up. It feels as if her childhood sets the pace for a life of performance with plenty of extracurricular activities and very little time for inner dialogues and contemplation. 

I was curious to discover that these days children spend most of their time with their parents rather than playing with fellow children. It was not so when I was very young. I believe that spending time with fellow humans of my own age was important for learning how to play together, how to solve conflicts, and set boundaries, which are such crucial skills to have. 

Buying objects for children is how love seems to be expressed and is a source of quick and easy joy. I think it has serious implications for the future as simply buying something replaces necessary activities such as inner work or changing something in one's life. Buying is the answer to everything. Let's just buy it. 

"The child wants something" as a phrase is meant to shame someone for questioning the nature of these wants. Are they the child's wants or the wants of adults? Why does this want exist, where does it come from?

I feel that children are forced or encouraged to make decisions where they should not be making them and prevented from taking part where they perhaps should be taking part. I think my mother and stepfather navigated this challenge successfully when I was very young. I always took part in preparing food (so as an adult I feel comfortable with it) and growing food. But I was never asked to choose in which home to sleep and what to buy in a store that sells thousands of items. I found it so interesting to see a tiny kitchen and tiny plastic vegetables in a shop. It's a children's toy. Why not allows children to play with real food while we cook? It can be done in safe ways. 

Recently, the little girl asked my partner for a little sister with whom she can play. At times, we talk about having a child together. There are several reasons why we keep postponing this conversation. The style of parenting my partner and his previous partner chose feels intense and overwhelming. There is so much constant doing that it leaves very little energy for another child. I believe our parenting styles would clash, as I would want to de-emphasise doing, entertaining, buying, consuming, and emphasise slowness, simplicity and other principles I live by. Having a child whose life is full of material possessions and services, and ensuring that this will always be the case, is expensive which leaves fewer financial resources for another child. My partner said that if we have a child, it would be mainly on me, and I'm not sure if I would want to be a single mother in a partnership. 

419

 Simplicity

I mention simplicity very often in this autoethnography. For me, it's one of the key values, an essential part of my worldview that allows my sustainability practices to manifest. Other values are, for example, sufficiency, empathy, gentleness, slowness. It's so interesting how simplicity applies to so many various aspects of being. It's how I organise my space. In the picture above is the second bedroom in our new home. It has many functions. My partner's child stays there when she is with us. I have meetings there. My partner plays music there. Guests stay there. Our whole apartment is minimalist. It's so easy to look after. I wear simple clothing that is easy to wash. There is nothing in our home that requires too much attention or extra care. I want to give an example of such thing that takes so much time and that I remember from my childhood. My stepfather and mother used to have a large crystal chandelier. Every few months, they would take it down and ask my brother and I to help them clean it. Every time I did that, I said to myself that when I can make my own decisions, I would never invite into my life that demands so much service. 

I organise my days in a simple way, never overwhelming my days with commitments. I prefer to dive deep into fewer activities rather than overcommit and I don't rank my activities in terms of importance. For example, it is equally important for me to write and to clean. I maintain few connections but they are with the fellow humans I love. Many of my fellow humans notice that I write with very few fellow scholars. I think it's the least stressful way to think together and an easy way to make thinking and writing together feel joyful. 

I try to avoid overcomplicating life for myself and for others. I suppose we naturally gravitate towards certain fellow humans and spaces, and I want to be with the fellow humans I feel good with, and in those spaces where I feel welcome, safe, vibrant. When something feels wrong or excessively difficult (when I know that it should not be so), I say to myself that it's not meant to be. I used to have a very difficult relationship with this phrase. It felt like giving up, but over the years I learned to see wisdom in this approach. I stepped out of some projects and spaces because they felt wrong for various reasons. For example, I resigned from my academic position in Finland because I felt disrespected and exploited. Stepping out of some spaces creates space and frees up so much energy for new unfoldings and beautiful opportunities. 

Over time, I came to the realisation that while capitalism and various structures in society constrain, and they can and do make life more difficult (for example, migration laws), I was also taking part in constraining myself. I did that by saying yes where I should have said no, internalising expectations that didn't feel right, looking for meaning where I knew I would not find any. I don't think that we should normalise, glamourise and romanticise negative experiences and say that they universally contribute to growth. In fact, I am very much opposed to this approach and believe that society should do everything to protect people from suffering. But resigning from my academic position in Finland in the Autumn 2023 made me realise that I could indeed be more agentic, and that being agentic comes with so many benefits. 

418

 Elderflower

It's elderflower season. When I was very young, I was often wondering why flowers were so beautiful but didn't taste particularly good. Over time, I discovered that some do indeed. And elderflower is one of them. I think that many fellow humans make elderflower cordial. Perhaps I will too, but I decided to simply add some to sparkling water. My partner and I went for a walk late in the evening to get some elderflowers here in Copenhagen (there are so many of them!). 

417

Stories

Recently, my partner's father and stepmother visited our home. Both of them are Danish, he is in his 70s and she is in her 80s. He is a former teacher of the German language. She used to teach French. She lived abroad for a while, doing humanitarian projects and studied in Paris. They met when he was in his 30s. They have 5 children, one of whom is their shared child. I love this wonderful elderly couple. They are so bright, so cool to be around. Our political views align, and we can talk endlessly about what is unfolding in the world. 

They were telling us about the 1970s. He says he was very optimistic back then, hoping for a change in the world. Many of the practices that I see as parts of the movements I'm part of (simple living, slow living, zero-waste) existed back then. They recall using beer crates as furniture. These days, the same beer crates are expensive, collectible items. At that time, those beer crates were solid, well-made from wood. Later on, they were replaced by light-weight plastic ones. They remember using flowers to dye clothes naturally, and repairing clothes. I showed them the shirt I repaired recently. What I consider to be a practice of resistance to fast fashion was the norm. We joke about wearing the same outfit every day. She is a dream woman, radiant and vibrant. She is wearing a bright, intense blue sweater and a matching scarf with pattern on it. She doesn't understand why fellow humans need to take part in fast-fashion. He says he owns only 2 shirts. I've noticed he wears a self-imposed uniform (and has done his whole life). She lovingly jokes about his shirts, saying that he has more than 20 of the same ones. It makes me think of my partner's wardrobe, where multiple white t-shirts find their home. 

They are telling us about communes that used to exist back then in the 70s. Then they mention the 80s. Something shifted, but they don't know what. As economists, my partner and I speculate about globalisation and neoliberalisation. But at that moment I'm more interested in their experiences. 

We talk about different paths in life. Recently I said to the two wonderful students who visited us in our home in Copenhagen that at times I want to just be a mother. It feels much more vulnerable and terrifying to say than to say I want a career of some kind. The elderly couple say that there should be a diversity of life paths, and humans should be free to choose their own path. There is an immense pressure on women to at once work, have children, look after our homes. 

They tell us about a family member who ended their studies at the age of 14 and was a smart, good human being. We agree that university education is not the path to success. It doesn't make one smart. 

Again I ask them to write a book about their life. They had wonderful life paths and so many situations where fellow humans could recognise themselves. He speculates that some fellow humans might feel unhappy about some of the stories he would like to tell, and he wouldn't want to tell stories selectively. He said he wrote something down already, and so has she. 

416

Fruits and vegetables

My partner and I invited his father and stepmother to visit us in our new home. I was fascinated by this couple even before I met them, and when I met them, I fell in love with them. He is in his 70s, and she is in her 80s. Their love story is beautiful, and both of them are wise persons from whom I learn a lot. 

We were looking for some local flowers to decorate our home for their visit, but we couldn't find any. When we returned home, I noticed that the fruits and vegetables looked wonderful and already served as decorations. 

These days, it is possible to get unpackaged courgettes and peppers (they come from Spain), Danish tomatoes in cardboard packaging, Danish strawberries in cardboard packaging, Danish cucumbers in plastic, unpackaged Danish spring onion, unpackaged lemons and mushrooms in cardboard packaging wrapped in thin plastic film. 

When we buy fruits and vegetables, we prefer to buy local, seasonal and organic ones. But we also consume imported fruits and vegetables, so our practice is not perfect. 

415

 Repairing 

I live with 10 or so items of clothing. Two of them are linen shirts. Because I live with so few items, I wear each one of them a lot, and they do wear out. When they wear out, I continue to wear them to normalise wearing old and worn-out items of clothing in our society where everything new is so desirable. I was not going to repair this shirt. I was planning to let the hole unfold naturally in the fabric. It would not make the shirt less functional, but it would make it beautiful, imperfect and my own, as if it has a story. And it actually does! I invited it into my life when I still lived in Finland and have worn it almost every day. I've worn it for walks, grocery shopping, meetings, teaching. The shirt was there with me in the very bad moments and happy ones too. 

But recently I changed my mind and decided to repair the shirt. It's been raining so much here in Copenhagen and I had some time to dedicate to more manual activities. I appreciate activities such as repairing, looking after my space and the objects I live with (i.e., cleaning), and cooking because my work entails mostly reading and writing. 

There are many ways to repair an item of clothing. For this hole it would perhaps be better to use a small piece of fabric and make a patch because the material around the hole has become very thin. I didn't have a spare piece of fabric, so I decided to repair the shirt as socks used to be repaired in the old days. When I was young, my mother and grandmother used to have what is called a darning mushroom, a wooden tool for repairing socks and perhaps other things too. I don't have this tool, so I held the fabric stretched to the best of my abilities. It was a messy process, as the thread itself was perhaps too thin for the job. But in the end it worked out, and I was pleased with the raw, imperfect result. 

When my partner saw my repaired shirt, he mentioned that perhaps a better way would be to use a thread in a different colour (visible mending). I think it's a very good idea, but at home we only have white thread. 

414

 Various tiny sustainability practices

At times, taking autoethnographic notes is simple. In moments such as this one right now, I don't dive deep into the social and natural structures that constrain and empower me or into my worldview from which my sustainability practices stem. I simply want to note down some things that I do and give these notes more careful attention later. 

I don't decorate my home, apart from occasionally borrowing some stones from Nature. Sunlight creates wonderful patterns on bare walls, and I don't think I could ever love any painting or another human-made artwork as much as these ephemeral and moving spots of light on the walls. Like many fellow humans, I can also experience awe when I see human-made art, but I don't invite it into my space. 

I use a large woollen scarf that I invited into my life when I lived in northern Sweden instead of a throw to feel cosy when it's cold or rainy. Generally I try to avoid having objects for specific purposes. For example, I use cotton bags as handbags, for grocery shopping, for storage. I use jars as glasses and mugs. 

My partner inherited some porcelain cups and plates from his grandparents. Even though their aesthetics doesn't match our preferences (we like simple objects), they are charming and beautiful in their own way. I especially like the fact that some of them have cracks and other imperfections. We could replace them but we don't. We want to live with them and honour them.

Our dining table is also our desk. It works well. I've not had a desk since I moved away from my family home in my late teens. 

We don't have any curtains or blinds in our home. I've lived without curtains for many years, and I love living with natural light and nature's rhythms. Oftentimes, fellow humans ask me how I can fall asleep in the Nordics in summer without curtains. It takes a bit of time to get used to it, but I've noticed that gentle sunlight doesn't prevent me from falling asleep. I slept well in northern Sweden without curtains in summer. If I ever struggle to fall asleep in the future, I would probably invite a sleep mask made from organic cotton rather than curtains. 

I've not used a key ring for many years. Instead, I use cotton ribbons that occasionally come with various textiles and other objects. I keep these ribbons for gift wrapping too. 

413

 Local byttestation

A byttestation (Danish, in English: swap shop) is an alternative organisation where humans can bring the items they don't need or want and take anything they need or want. While exchange/swap without any money involved is at the heart of this idea, many people simply give something or take something to byttestationer. For example, my partner and I usually give things (such as gifts we receive) but almost never take anything. Usually, one can find a lot of books and children's items in such places, as well as kitchen items and clothing. I've tried to give away very high quality or even new items that could be sold, in a hope that it will contribute to redistribution on the community level. For example, I gave away two beautiful and new items of clothing that my partner gave me for my birthday, a beautiful vase that we received as a gift, and I gave away an almost new reusable coffee cup. Perhaps some fellow humans take some items from byttestationer and resell them, but it's not something that can be controlled, and I would not feel bad about someone making a small business selling second-hand items. 

As my partner and I moved into our new home in an apartment block, we discovered that in the recycling area there is also a small byttestation. It's so wonderful. It is a space where neighbours can make use of common resources and take each others' books. Humans who don't live in the apartment block cannot use it, and this is the only thing I dislike about this place, but there is a very big byttestation nearby too (5 minutes away or so), and a very small one just a couple of minutes away. 

Some fellow humans would perhaps donate items to charities. My partner and I have given many items to the Danish Red Cross and Diakonissestiftelsen (The Deaconess Foundation). But giving something to one's local community without any monetary exchange involved feels very different. Oftentimes, in a byttestation one can find perhaps not very expensive but useful items such as cutlery. If I was a student moving to Copenhagen, I would get plates from a byttestation.

I love looking at the books that are left by persons in byttestationer. I am planning to bring copies of my own book there too. 

412

 New chapter

A couple of days ago, we finished moving to our new place and cleaned the previous one. We moved slowly, meaning that we intentionally decided to forego any mode of transportation (apart from a simple, not cargo bike) and help from fellow humans. We gave ourselves 18 days to leave the previous apartment. To move all our belongings, we carried them ourselves (or transported them on the bike). We went to our old place between 3 and 5 times almost every day. Moving this way was possible to do because both of us practise minimalism. We didn't have many belongings to begin with. The most challenging ones to transport were the mattresses and some pieces of furniture. We disassembled larger pieces of furniture. We now live on the 5th floor in a building without a lift, so it was challenging to bring some heavier items upstairs. But overall, we experienced this move as joyful and fun. 

I liked cleaning the previous apartment to express my gratitude for its service. It was wonderful to prepare that beautiful space for the new tenants. Perhaps some fellow humans see cleaning the apartment they are leaving as a chore they would rather not do, but for me it was a positive experience, similar to when I cleaned my Swedish and my Finnish apartments as I was leaving those countries. To clean the apartment we were leaving, we used baking soda, soap and a biodegradable cleaning and disinfecting solution. 

In our previous apartment, we had 2 beds (one for us, the other one for my partner's child), a table, 4 chairs, a tøjstativ, and a bench. We left our bed and the tøjstativ in the storage room downstairs (they are very common here in the Nordics) in the new apartment block. We felt that the mattress would be enough in the new bedroom, and we have some built-in storage here, so the tøjstativ is not necessary anymore. Over time, we hope to find a new home for those pieces of furniture.

There were some other items that we gave away via a byttestation (swap shop) as we didn't need them anymore. Among them were some plates my partner inherited from his grandparents. We are planning to give away a large suitcase that my partner used to use to carry his child's belongings when the child very young. At times we talk about having our own child, but if we do, I would certainly practise slow parenting and minimalism, so I would never use a large suitcase. 

The only object that is new to our space is a large chest that my partner inherited from his grandparents. This chest was not in our previous apartment, but somehow it looks very beautiful in our new place. We don't use it for storage. It's there for aesthetic reasons. 

We decided not to decorate our space. This is one of the compromises my partner made when we moved in together. I've always avoided decorations as I find them unnecessary and overstimulating (for my own space). The only objects I use as decoration are stones that I find in Nature. My partner mentioned that his quality of life doesn't diminish when there are no decorations, so we don't have any.

We also decided to live without curtains. I've lived without curtains for many years, as I prefer to live with the rhythms of nature. I don't find it difficult to fall asleep when it's still light.

We invited a couple of new kitchen towels made from certified organic cotton because we used the old ones to clean our previous apartment. We will probably invite a few extra objects to accommodate the needs of my partner's child. 

We lived with only one set of bedding as we had a shared dryer (we could not dry our clothes and textiles in the rented apartment). In our new apartment, the washing machine is also a dryer, but we don't use it as a dryer. We invited a drying rack into our space, and another set of bedding that is exactly the same as the one we have been using. 

In the new apartment, there is more space, though not a lot more. I don't feel I want to live with more objects, though more objects would certainly fit. 

Dwelling in this new apartment feels like opening a new chapter in my life. I've learned that moving with objects can be pleasant, that stepping into a larger apartment doesn't necessarily provoke the desire to have more.

411

 "Convincing"

In the picture above is a hole manifesting in one of the two linen shirts I live with. I live with 10 items of clothing, so I wear each one of them very often. I could repair this hole, but there is something so charming about it. It shows that it's ok to wear ageing and old clothes. Moreover, I don't think I become a worse human being when I wear this shirt. I'm still the same person.

Recently, my partner and I talked about degrowth with some students at Copenhagen university. These past weeks in general I have received wonderful gifts from the universe: I taught in a PhD course in Finland (online to avoid flying) and met excellent students at Copenhagen uni. It was such a joy to teach and to be present with the students. They are brilliant. I loved their projects, questions and comments.

One thing, among so many, that we talked about with the students at Copenhagen uni was convincing fellow humans that degrowth is necessary and thus a different mode of relating with the world is necessary too. I've been thinking about this for many years as a PhD student myself and then as a researcher and a teacher. Over the years, I came to the realisation that I don't want to convince anyone. I can and should offer the knowledge that I have. But more importantly, I think it's important to listen, to ask questions, to understand why fellow humans are on their current paths and why they think the way they do. It's important to share one's own story and offer one's own reasons. For me it has felt essential to share my own practices and challenges and joy that come with living this kind of life. Some would probably call it leading by example, but I'm not sure I like the word leading. I can gently offer my example while recognising that everyone is different and everyone's circumstances are different. I believe that fellow humans can take inspiration from my lifestyle (or any other more sustainable lifestyle), but inspiration cannot and should not be forced upon anyone. 

410

 Storing documents

I have observed that I don't actually store objects. My family members used to store stuff. They used to have plates and glasses for special guests, kitchen equipment they rarely used, special occasion clothing, spare bedding, books, jewellery. So many various objects! I live with so few items that I use most of them every day. They don't need any special storage. In my previous home, I used to store everything that was not in my backpack, in the bathroom, or hanging on the tøjstativ in one large cotton bag. In my new home there is some built-in storage, so I don't need the large cotton tote. For now, I will keep it for travelling. 

The only things that I store are my documents, some small items, and medicines. When it comes to documents, I try to keep only the ones I actually need. I don't keep anything just in case. Here in the Nordics, most communications from the authorities and banks are electronic, which means I receive letters very rarely. Having said that, I've lived in four countries in the past 3 years, so I have some extra letters from the authorities that I hope to say goodbye to. All the documents I live with I keep in a cotton pouch. It's not very big, so I fold the larger documents. The pouch is made from certified organic, undyed cotton by a small Swedish company. Before this, I used to use a simple thin cotton tote bag to store my documents, but the pouch has a zip, so it feels nicer to use. Some years ago, I would keep all the documents in folders and a plastic bag that came with some clothing item. I decided not to store the documents in folders because chances are very small that water will get on them. Even if it does, I don't think it's such a big deal. Over the years of simple living, I came to the realisation that while it's important to honour objects and look after them, it is equally important to avoid being overly protective. Being overly protective about objects, to me, feels like excessive attachment and prevents me from actually using the objects I live with. 

409

 Bedroom

When I lived in Finland, I slept on the floor, on a yoga mat. It was a wonderful experience. Living without a bed felt light both materially and spiritually. I moved my body more. When I moved to Denmark, my partner and I began to live together. Both of us chose to compromise in some ways. For example, he welcomed a space without any decorations and paintings on the walls, and I agreed to have a bed frame and a mattress. We lived with a bed frame for some time. When we moved into our new, more permanent home, we wanted to honour this different space, see what feels right in it and for us, humans practising minimalism. Our new apartment is on the top floor in a building that doesn't have a lift. The apartment feels like a nest or a cave. A bed frame would probably feel too heavy here. We decided to put the mattress on the floor and have no furniture in the bedroom at all. There is some built-in storage though where we keep our clothes, bedding and smaller items such as medicines and documents. 

In this home we hope to welcome more of our fellow humans. Minimalist spaces always provoke conversations. Some fellow humans feel inspired by the way we live, while others say they would not be able to live like this. We do not want to convince anyone to live exactly the way we do, but as post-growth researchers we hope that fellow humans will reconsider their relationships with objects. Every objects is transformed nature. Some objects serve us, humans, but others we keep just because. Just in case, because we inherited it, because we believe that we must have it. Practising minimalist is about freedom, lightness, taking less from nature, and questioning the norm. 

408

 Moving notes

We have moved everything that was inside our previous apartment to our new home. It's taken a few days. Because we decided to move slowly, we used only our hands and a bike. Each day, we went to the old apartment around 5 times. There are a few things left in the storage space in the old apartment. Here in the Nordic homes, it is very common to have such storage spaces. Though I've never used them myself, my partner has some sentimental items there such as his father's artworks. 

We brought the bed frame to the storage space in the new apartment. We don't yet know what we will do with it, but we plan to live without it and simply have our mattress on the floor. Into our space we invited a chest (in the picture above) that my partner inherited from his grandparents. We didn't use the chest in the previous apartment, but somehow it looks beautiful and grounding in this space. In our new apartment, we have even fewer items of furniture. We brought the table, 4 chairs, the bench, and my partner's child's bed. This space feels so light. It felt wonderful (though at times also challenging) to move everything ourselves, to be present with each object we live with, to appreciate nature's embodiment in these objects. There is no lift in the building, so we carried everything to the top floor. 

Like in our previous home, we will not have any decorations apart from some stones we brought home. We will not have any curtains either to be able to live with the sun's light and nature's rhythms. We decided not to have any light fixtures on the ceilings.  

In our bedroom, there is only the mattress that serves as our bed. There is also some build-in storage that came with the apartment.

In the space that is the kitchen and the living room, we only have the table that serves as both our dining table and our desk, the chest, the bench, 4 chairs. There is a drying rack, a yoga mat and a meditation cushion. There is also one lamp. 

In my partner's child's bedroom, there is only her bed, a lamp, and my partner's guitar. 

407

 Leaving our previous home, living in a new one

We are moving all the objects we live with by hand and on a bicycle. We live with very few things, and the moving experience feels playful and joyful. We could ask some family members and friends to help us, but we decided not to. We wanted to carry everything ourselves (in many goes of course), to feel what we live with, to contemplate nature's embodiment and our environmental footprint. 

It is interesting to observe how the new home invites a somewhat different relationship with objects. It's a very different space, with much more light, a balcony and a different layout. We now have many windows, a great amount of sunlight coming in, a washing machine, and two bedrooms. Both bedrooms are very small, and one of them is for my partner's child who doesn't live with us. Though I liked living in studio apartments, I also felt that there was not enough privacy. It was difficult to have work meetings, online lectures and calls. 

This apartment is slightly bigger than the previous one. My partner and I were contemplating that it could be tempting (were we different persons) to invite more objects in as there is more space. We decided to have even less objects than we lived with. There is some built-in storage in the apartment, so we will not need to use the tøjstativ. We also decided to try and live without a bed frame. I used to sleep on the floor for some years, which I loved. When my partner and I moved in together, we got a bed frame and a mattress, but we are planning to use the mattress and not use the bed frame. 

In our previous apartment, we were not allowed to dry clothes indoors. In this current apartment, the washing machine is also a dryer, but we invited a drying rack into our life to be able to dry clothes and other textiles without using electricity. In the washing machine, we use unscented laundry sheets. They are packaged in a small cardboard box. We used to buy them from a small, independent online shop here in Denmark but recently I saw them in our local supermarket. I still prefer to support small businesses, but it is nice to see more ecological products accessible to more fellow humans. 

Many fellow humans in our neighbourhood have furniture on their balconies. We are using the meditation cushion or just sit on the floor. 

Some of the objects we moved as soon as possible from the previous apartment were upcycled glass jars that have lived with us for months. The one in the picture above came with some pickled vegetables. I removed the label and washed the jar well (it doesn't retain smell). I use it for water and tea. We use similar glass jars to store small things in, cutlery, and as vases. 

The only objects we are considering inviting into our new space in the future are a small rug (we want to make our home a cosy space for my partner's child) and a larger pot to be able to cook more food at once. Having some extra space will allow us to host our friends who visit Copenhagen. We are also planning to grow some herbs on our balcony. After some conversations, we agreed to have a balcony screen too. I love to connect with the sun, and in such moments I want to wear as little as possible. I would not want to impose my choice upon fellow humans living across the street from us, and the screen would create some privacy. 

406

 Small things

I believe so strongly in living sustainability through the smallest actions. It feels important to manifest gentleness and care towards the self, fellow humans and non-humans, and nature in everything we do. For me, simplicity, slowness, and sufficiency are some of the values that help me live a more gentle life. In this entry, I want to make sketches of a few random moments that somehow feel significant, though they also may seem so small. 

Everything I own personally fits within the two bags in the picture above. It feels liberating. It's so easy to look after a few objects. 

Celebration can be so simple. I borrowed a reusable coffee cup from my partner and was sitting on our balcony with the sun for a while. 

I used to pick up hair ties from the ground, but they would always leave deep marks on my wrists. I decided to welcome into my life some biodegradable hair ties that are made from organic cotton. They feels soft and comfortable, and I am so glad they can return to the Earth sometime in the future.