Making The Time To Live Slow & Sustainable

As life starts speeding up again post-lockdown, I can’t avoid the truth that living more sustainably does require a time commitment.

It takes more time to bake your own snacks, instead of buying them ready-packaged.

It takes more time to go to 3 different shops because you can’t find everything you want plastic-free in one place.

It takes more time to cook from scratch every day, several times a day. And to wash the dishes from all that cooking and baking.

It takes time to connect with nature by actually being in nature, whether taking a walk or sitting in the garden.

I had that time in lockdown.

And now, as the pace of life picks up again, the volume of emails is increasing, and time pressures change as we add socialising back into the mix.

Call me odd, but this return to ‘normal’ doesn’t suit me very well. I feel more scattered, less able to concentrate on coming up with meal plans, and physically more rushed in the kitchen, as I’m ‘squeezing in’ cooking among other things.

How we got to a place where feeding ourselves and our families is given such a low priority is beyond me.

All this is a huge reminder that intentional living requires just that – strong intention.

If I want to invest more time in living sustainably, and keep the slow pace which is so important for wellbeing, something’s got to give.

I know what I want to put more time into. But what don’t I have time for anymore?

Aimless internet browsing, the sort driven by avoidance rather than purpose.

Absent-minded scrolling through social media (‘the time-wastey place’, as someone astutely called it).

Numbing out in front of TV shows that I’m not even interested in.

Making more money (being self-employed, I can choose to save more rather than earn more. There is such a thing as ‘enough’).

Reading emails (by taking advantage of the unsubscribe function).

Somehow, in modern life, we do find time for all that stuff – hours a day – and then claim we haven’t got time to cook for ourselves. It’s pretty clear which one nourishes us, but it’s not always the choice we make.

This is for complex reasons, and I certainly don’t have all the answers, not even close. But I have my curiosity, about living differently. I just hope I can also keep hold of enough intention to stay rooted in slow and sustainable.

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like Adventures In Analogue and Ignoring Normal

Sustainable Living With Kids

I used to wonder if sustainable living was realistic for us, as a family with busy lives.

But I’ve discovered that living in the Heatons provides us with lots of fun ways to live a greener life – like these:

Active Travel

Recently we’ve been exploring the Heatons even more on foot. There are so many walkable routes for connecting with local wildlife, such as Heaton Mersey Common or the Mersey Vale Nature Park. We definitely feel the health and wellbeing benefits of walking outdoors together.

Connecting With Nature

Aswell as those nature reserves, we also have plenty of other pockets of green locally, including several parks. Increasing your contact with nature can be weaved into your daily routine, eg we enjoy a bit of bird-spotting on our regular walks around the neighbourhood. We also like to stop by the community vegetable beds to see what’s growing – this inspires us to keep going with our own experiments in gardening for wildlife at home.

Shopping Local

A favourite weekly ritual is a trip to The Good Life in Heaton Mersey, for some low-plastic shopping. It’s good fun for kids to help out with weighing and filling the tubs. There’s also a strong sense of community in our local shops.

I always come away feeling uplifted by that social connection – you just don’t get that sort of human interaction with online shopping!

‘Producing’ rather than consuming

A great way to reduce your carbon footprint is to make things yourself instead of buying them. Baking is a simple, family-friendly (and fun) way to start doing that.

We’ve learned to make cakes, flapjacks, biscuits and crackers that aren’t complicated, and reduce our reliance on plastic-wrapped snacks. Luckily, it’s easy to find planet-friendly ingredients in The Good Life or Blue Corn.

Getting Involved

Sustainable Living in the Heatons have lots of family-friendly resources on their website, from gardening inspiration to walking and bike ride routes – check them out here.

What I love is that these everyday practices don’t just help us to to be kinder to the planet, they also help us to stay healthy and happy.

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like ‘10 Simple Plastic-Free Swaps’

Adventures In Analogue – Books

Some time ago, in a fit of minimalist-inspired decluttering, I let go of a load of books, repeating to myself the mantra that ‘I can always look things up on the internet’.

What I didn’t realise at the time was that while that would save me some storage space at home, it wasn’t saving the carbon emissions created by the myriad internet searches I can end up doing (being the curious type I am).

According to this infographic, one internet search can account for up to 7 grams of carbon emissions. And that’s just one search. How easy is it to mindlessly clock up many searches each day, when we rely on the internet as our primary source of information?

Looked at through that lens, it doesn’t seem to make sense to keep looking up things online, if I could use a reference book instead.

As part of my Adventures In Analogue experiment, I thought it might be helpful to set up a home reference library.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t looking for an excuse for a shopping spree. I generally try to use library books where possible, to keep my reading habit sustainable and low-impact.

But while library books are great for one-time dives into a new subject area (or novels), they’re not really practical for the things I look up regularly. As it is, my local librarian recognised my name when I raised a query recently, because I take so many books out – so I don’t think I’d get away with hogging some of the titles so that no-one else can have a go!

To guide my home library investments, I’ve started noticing what subjects tend to get me drawn into frequent internet searches. Those are the books it makes sense for me to keep on hand, eg recipes, wildlife, wellbeing, gardening… (maybe one day I’ll add mending techniques to that collection!)

Thankfully, I had saved some of my favourite cookbooks from the great clearout, plus a few other treasured books – including some lovely art books we are revisiting for family sketchbooking inspiration.

Where there are gaps in my home library, I’m slowly starting to fill them, so I can keep weaning myself off internet-searching-as-default.

I’m already noticing how much less time I spend messing about on my phone. And how much more time I spend taking in the world around me, and it’s lovely. More on that next time…

In the meantime, if you liked this post, you can find the others in the series by clicking the Adventures in Analogue tag below.

Edit: I will be continuing this series in a more ‘analogue’ format. For updates, follow my main site sheilabayliss.com

Adventures In Analogue – Day Trip

Smartphones mean that we can have access to the internet wherever we are. I was curious how much I rely on that when I’m out and about, so I took my Adventures In Analogue experiment out on the road. Here are the moments I realised how my phone has become a default tool that I reach for without even thinking about it:

Weather forecast – I had actually managed to catch the weekly weather forecast on the Countryfile programme the night before, so I knew we should dress for wet weather. I even remembered to pack my waterproof socks just in case, but in the end we got off lightly with a little drizzle.

Train travel – I decided not to look up the train times online in advance, and prepared myself to be patient if there was a long gap between trains. I took along a card game and a book to entertain my son if needed. However, we spent the 30 minutes waiting for a train looking at various things on the platform: the art project, the flowers in planters and the bug hotel.

Timekeeping – I wasn’t organised enough to remember to wear my wristwatch, so we arrived at our chosen lunch spot before they opened. But that gave us a bit of time to explore…

Navigation – Something else I forgot to do was to consult a local map on our way out of the station. I wanted to check out a bookshop we’d never visited, and though I knew its street address, I couldn’t quite get my bearings. My son had an instinct that he knew where it was. But I caved and resorted to Google Maps for reassurance. Sure enough, it was exactly where my son’s gut would have led us. Years ago, when I lived in London, my A-Z was a much-loved companion for my wanderings, but I’d never thought to map out where I live now in the same way. Until now. So think I might invest in a local street map. That said, we found the ice cream parlour by following our noses!

Reflecting on the day, I realised that the temptation to jump onto my phone during a day out has a lot to do with seeking control, and being impatient. If I’m willing to embrace some uncertainty, and some waiting around, I don’t need that security blanket quite so much. And – as I discovered on the train platform – that approach leaves room for something unexpected and more interesting than I’d planned to emerge into those spaces.

I’m reminded of a lovely day out that was made possible by stepping into a more ‘analogue’ pace, that I wrote about here.

I’m also feeling inclined to start building a home reference library to help keep me at that pace (more on that in the next post).

Adventures In Analogue

Until recently, I thought I led a pretty eco-friendly life. And then I read a couple of articles like this one that explain how our internet habits now create a carbon footprint that equals that of the aviation industry. I may well be blogging, tweeting, emailing and streaming shows about climate change, but in doing so I’m also contributing to it.

This wake-up call left me hankering for a less digital life; one that isn’t dependent on looking things up on the internet 30 times a day (the Ecosia app counts your searches, if you’re interested).

I began to wonder, what would it be like to choose a more analogue life?

I wouldn’t attempt to give up technology entirely. In the case of some things that I really value, they can’t be easily be replicated without the internet – like this blog, which I would write off as a vanity project, but from time to time I receive messages of thanks for a blog post that has proved helpful to someone else. And as a home educating family, our experience is significantly enriched by visual and interactive internet resources (enabling us to enjoy learning together, rather than fall out over it).

I’ve reflected elsewhere about using technology mindfully, and most of my existing practices involve just using it less. Which definitely saves me from notification overload, but seems to focus on an aversive approach that is all too familiar in our get-rid-of-the-uncomfortable culture. The idea of returning to ‘analogue’ seems to hold a promise of something richer, that could be about moving towards something.

Perhaps I could get more creative, rather than assuming that digital options are always the only choice.

I’m curious what I might learn from this: which things are challenging to find an analogue equivalent for, and which replacements might bring extra benefits. My suspicion is that digital options will often be bound up with doing more faster, and that analogue choices will necessitate a surrender to even more slowness than I currently enjoy.

I’ve started my adventures in analogue by considering how I use the internet for entertainment (or distraction, depending on the emotional energy that’s present).

During the global slowdown, I gradually replaced much of the time I used to spend on social media and falling into internet-search rabbit holes with reading ‘proper’ books. It has meant retuning my attention span a bit, but I love absorbing well-written wisdom on topics that I might not normally read about.

I think the library is fast becoming my analogue alternative to the internet. Since my local branch reopened after lockdown, I’ve taken out books on wildlife gardening, nutrition, yoga, how trees communicate, the history of libraries and natural weather prediction – the last one because I’m curious if there’s another option to avoid getting a drenching, other than using a weather app or catching the forecast on TV (I don’t consume news, because it mostly seems to make me grumpy and judgemental).

As a family, we’ve also been rediscovering the joys of live TV and radio, instead of relying so heavily on streaming TV shows. I’ll admit that sometimes I miss the ‘flop on the sofa and numb out’ ritual that a binge-watch used to give me. But I’m not missing wasting so much of my time (and the earth’s resources on all that storage space) watching stuff that I’m not actually that interested in, just because there’s ‘nothing better on’.

Instead, I look out for interesting shows that I might otherwise not come across, or we leave the TV off and do something else instead. It’s lovely to give ourselves a bit of precious time back! While we haven’t given up streaming the content that we genuinely value, it does feel good to reconnect with other options.

If I have more to share, I might post again about this experiment in less-digital-living.

In the meantime, if you liked this post, you might also like these over on my main site:

Distraction, Or Enchantment?,

Practising Intentional Internet Use

Belonging to the Earth

When we talk about community, people often mean belonging to a group of human beings.

But I find this a little narrow. I prefer to perceive myself as part of an ecosystem, belonging to a much larger whole that includes non-human beings too.

Some of these beings are more visible, like trees and birds; some are less visible, like the creatures that inhabit the soil.

This morning, I was gifted with a beautifully embodied experience of this belonging.

I was on a nature walk with my son near our home, and the rain started. He had an instinct, knew where to find shelter – a particular tree, and his body carried him there, me following.

Sure enough, as the music of the rain swelled around us, bouncing off the trees, we found ourselves sheltered by the leafy sycamore that offered us its protection.

As we looked more closely at the tree trunk, we saw a face, made by the knots in the wood – eyes, mouth, nose. And we felt even more welcomed.

To pass the time, my son picked up a couple of sticks and we drummed rhythms together, even danced a little (feeling free enough to play, safe from the judgement of human community).

The rain got heavier, and we felt its power, feeding the greenness of the life all around us.

We heard the rain begin to slow, and as we tentatively emerged from our shelter, it suddenly eased. In that moment I felt the possibility of harmony: of mutual caretaking that we could experience, as part of the Earth ecosystem.

Who’d have thought getting caught in a downpour could be so magical?

If you liked this post, you might also like Finding Magic In The Rainy Days

How Lockdown Has Changed My View Of Climate Action

When I first became interested in climate action, I was motivated mostly by fear, anger and despair.

But my lived experience of lockdown – or slowdown, as a wise friend of mine aptly named it – has changed that.

Before slowdown, my experience of caring about the Earth was often played out from a distance, as I viewed images of endangered species and habitats in far-off lands, through the filter of social media.

But then, as slowdown kicked in, I had the space for increased daily time in nature – whether a walk in my local nature reserve, or sitting in my garden. And my experience became much more embodied. I fell deeply in love with the nature on my own doorstep, through direct physical contact with that environment.

Now, I find myself motivated to practice climate action by this love for the Earth, rather than by fear and despair.

Coming back out of lockdown has also changed my desire to convert everyone to my way of thinking about sustainable living.

As I see how many people are desperate to get back to ‘normal’ (whatever that is), that zeal in me has softened a little. My judgement of others’ way of life is a tiny bit more generous when I recognise the drive to meet needs that happen to be different to my own.

I’m ready to embrace the humility of doing my own small part, and feeling appreciative of anyone I happen to meet who also loves the Earth.

If, over time, enough of us reconnect with our love for the Earth, and practice climate action as a way of honouring that love, we might just see a shift in the way we live as part of Earth. And I’d rather see a shift that emerges out of love and humility than out of anger and self-righteousness.

What if we all focussed on learning to love the Earth, deeply, and see where that might take us?

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like:

Emergence-y – my reflection in what is emerging that’s positive.

This article from Maddy Harland: https://www.positive.news/environment/biotime-when-deep-nature-connection-becomes-activism/

Nature, Joy and Human Becoming – an On Being podcast with Michael McCarthy

10 Simple Plastic-Free Swaps In The Heatons

Plastic-Free July is nearly upon us again, and we’ve made so many changes in our house since the last one! Here are 10 simple ways that we’ve reduced plastic, by shopping in our local area.

Bread

We’ve recently dusted off the bread-maker. But we also buy bread from Martin’s Bakery, carried in our own cloth bag, or one of their paper bags.

Milk

Like many, we’ve gone back to glass bottles from the good old milkman. Lots of people in our area also use Creamline Dairies

Fruit & veg

Our local supermarkets and Unwins greengrocers do sell some produce loose. We’ve joined a veg box delivery scheme who use minimal plastic (we use Foodlife Organic). You can even grow your own – very much a work-in-progress in our garden!

Pasta & dried goods

Being able to scoop pasta, rice, pulses and oats into our own tubs has freed us from the plastic-wrapped stuff – we couldn’t do without our weekly trip to The Good Life Heatons, our local haven for all things low-waste.

Butter & Cheese

It took me a while to find butter in recyclable packaging. So I was happy to discover Calon Wen butter in a compostable wrapper (stocked by The Good Life Heatons, who also sometimes have a stash of cheddar cheese, so you can also get a chunk by weight, straight into your own tub).

Bernie’s has now opened and they will also pop you some cheese into your own tub.

Fish

The Easy Fish Co do make this quite easy. They are happy to double-wrap our fish in paper so we can skip the plastic bag, or to fill our own tub with shrimp to avoid a disposable.

Biscuits, crackers & snacks

Instead of buying these, we now bake our own. Early on in my own journey with this, I was inspired by recipes from Plastic Free Chef. I’ve discovered that even for a novice baker like me, things like crackers and flapjacks are actually really quick & easy to make.

Cleaning products

OK, so this isn’t entirely plastic-free, but if you always refill, it’s a lot less plastic. Refills for eco-friendly cleaning products are available at Blaggs Hardware, Blue Corn and The Good Life Heatons.

Haircare & beauty

It’s The Good Life Heatons to the rescue again, with a range of solid shampoo and conditioner bars, plus compostable dental floss and face cream in glass jars (even an eye cream, which I struggled to find elsewhere). They even stock refills for hand sanitiser.

Cleaning cloths

I used to have a bit of an addiction to disposal cleaning wipes, but I gave them up and haven’t looked back. In their place, I cut up a load of old T-shirts to use as cleaning cloths that I just chuck through the wash (for cleaning spray, see above). When I need a cleaning scrub for a tougher job – Blaggs have a good selection that aren’t packaged in plastic.

Where we live, we are so lucky that we can buy plastic-free alternatives, and tick the ‘shop local’ box at the same time.

If you live in the Heatons, you can find out more at Sustainable Living In The Heatons, a local group I volunteer for.

Learning To Localise

As lockdown starts to ease, I find myself resisting the notion of a return to ‘normal’ (for the climate, and for mine and my family’s wellbeing).

I asked my friends ‘where is the movement I can join, with other people who don’t want to go back to business-as-usual?’

Then I realised, it’s right under my nose. My son and I already volunteer with a local sustainability group. When I stumbled across World Localization Day, it reminded me that I joined that local group because even before the pandemic, I believed that localisation is the way forward.

Our time in lockdown has enabled me to experience a much more local life. I don’t want that to end.

So I’m reflecting on the small ways I’m learning to localise, doing my bit as part of a larger whole, to move towards a more sustainable way of life.

Deepening my learning

Place-based education is a family affair in our house, and has created a deeper connection with our local neighbourhood.

We’ve also dabbled with upskilling, in our veg-growing experiment, plus learning to bake and to mend holes in clothes. We might not be self-sufficient, but we may be developing the skills of future resilience.

Changing my mindset

My mindfulness practice has helped me to unpick the conditioning of consumerism and the ‘more, bigger, better’ story. Able to see this more clearly, I can experience the wisdom of ‘just enough’. I can stop chasing ‘success’, and be happier and less stressed in a small life.

Creating new habits

With the above foundation in place, I live quite differently. I shop online less, and visit my local shops more. I think about how and where our food is produced. We spend our time locally, and lockdown has shown me that we really don’t need to go very far afield to find a rich connection with the world around us.

On the days I feel a touch of despair, and wonder if we can ever tackle climate change, it helps to notice the shifts like these that do drive positive change.

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like ‘5 Greener Things I’ve Learned From Lockdown’

Our Staycation In The Heatons

This post was co-authored by my 10-year-old son.

Like many people, our family holiday this year was cancelled. But we decided to still take the week off work (and offline) to do some of the things we love to do on holiday, but at home.

Time together

It was lovely to have lots of time together, just hanging out. We didn’t have to do anything in particular; we just appreciated each others’ company. Not having to clock-watch or follow a schedule gave us that sense of slow holiday time, without having to go anywhere.

Strolling with an ice cream

It’s not a holiday without an ice cream! We are loving the vegan ice cream from The Good Life (especially the caramel pecan praline), so we enjoyed a nice stroll to get one.

Leisurely al fresco meals

We were lucky enough to get a bit of sun during our week, so we fired up the barbecue. Getting the meat from Littlewoods Butchers was another nice local stroll.

Exploring

One of our favourite things to do on holiday is to explore a new location. So we took the opportunity to go for a walk in a place we are a little less familiar with. This took us down to the River Mersey, where we chose the route in the opposite direction from our usual walk. On another day, we found a path in Heaton Mersey Common that we hadn’t seen before.

Playing together

We always take a new card game on holiday. During our staycation week, we enjoyed trying out a new family board game. The game we picked was collaborative, and lots of fun!

Trying new foods

We always enjoy trying new foods when we go away, and we can do this at home too. One way we do this is to try something from The Easy Fish Co. that we haven’t had before. Another treat is a takeaway from a local Heatons restaurant. This also ticks my box of not having to cook when I’m on holiday!

We’ve talked about reducing the carbon footprint of our holidays before, and this was one way to test it out. We definitely came out of the week feeling refreshed and connected – to each other, and to our local neighbourhood.