impact echos

Today I finally got my hands on a copy of the much talked about No Impact Man book by Colin Beavan, which goes along with the blog and movie of similar names. Although it's been out for a few weeks, I was number 3 or 4 on the library waiting list. I visited the library at lunch, so it wasn't until the train ride home that I had time to start reading. If you're not familiar with No Impact Man's story, a man and his family decide to live the most environmentally friendly life they can, while living in New York City. They decide to do this for a year, unaware of what it actually means to do so. This book seems to appeal to both those that are already on this same path in that it gives them another's view point and how they got there as well as those that aren't sure where to even start. This post isn't really meant to be a review of the book though.

In Chapter 2, Colin begins with the story of his first day as "No Impact Man". In the first 10 minutes of being awake he's felt bad about using a dead tree to blow his nose, felt bad about using a diaper for his 1.5 year old daughter and realized his milk came in a disposable container. I think about the handkerchief I have tucked in my purse and how I need to remember to replace it when I do laundry tonight. I don't want to use a paper tissue at work as I quickly learned that handkerchiefs are so much more pleasant to use. I think about the plain white cloth napkins I grabbed on impulse at my most favorite thrift store ever when my total purchase didn't meet the debit card minimum and how I quickly grew to rely on them as napkins and handkerchiefs. I think about the brand new set of Hankettes I bought my boyfriend for his birthday, a month late, but handmade with organic cotton in Canada. Out the corner of my eye I see, the woman sitting next to me on the Red Line train digs in her bag and pulls out a wadded, bright white paper tissue. She rubs her nose and drops it on the floor between her legs.

I look and point at the tissue and say, "you dropped something" as I pull my eyes away from the book, the event all the more obvious as I just finished reading one of the few book passages I've ever read about blowing one's nose. She says "oh ok" and does nothing.

I can't help but to try to understand her actions. Did she really just not understand me? Does she not care because she doesn't want it anymore? Does she assume someone else will take care of it? Does she not know what else to do with it? Is she embarrassed that I said something? I realize that this No Impact Man book might be more helpful in a way I wasn't expecting. Although I try to keep others perspectives in mind and trying to understand, I know I suffer from assuming others have certain bits of information in their heads. People were brought up different ways. I pull out my handkerchief and blow my nose and tuck it back into my bag. I hope if nothing else, I can lead by example some of the time.