It's Time to Get Uncomfortable

by Sarah Harding

 
Untitled-1.jpg
 
 

How can we read disastrous headlines, know terrifying statistics, hear all the doom and gloom and still fail to act? I’ve felt the discomfort of fear in my stomach when I hear the news. I’ve felt dread and helplessness when I realize the scope of the problem— so what’s my problem? Why do I still live this “normal” destructive life? How can I still be buying food in plastic containers and driving my car everywhere?

The answer: because my brain is hardwired to seek comfort.

Last winter, my family and I went on the trip of a lifetime to West Sumatra. We planned for over a year, saving and organizing for our three-week surf trip. We spent 12 days on a boat cruising around the Indian ocean: surfing empty waves, snorkeling reefs teeming with fish, walking deserted beaches. These islands are the most gorgeous place I’d seen. White sand beaches, coconut palms, incredible turquoise water. But when we’d pull up to some of these beaches, instead of being covered in seashells and hermit crabs, they would be covered in plastic. Plastics of all kinds— anything that floated. It broke my heart. We have to do better than this.

Before our boat trip, the climate crisis seemed far away. It seemed like something that would affect other people, not my family on our little farm. It was far off in the future, not something my children will have to survive but not be able to fix. It seemed out of my control, not something I had been contributing to. But there it was on the beach: plastic spoons from my lunch, a lost flip flop, chip wrappers I’d eaten years ago still haunting the sand, plastic grocery bags from times I’d forgotten my cloth bags, water bottles from hotels, and empty shampoo bottles. My distance from the problem of ocean plastics dissolved and there it was— right in my face. I decided it’s time to get uncomfortable. I vowed to do better, no, to do my best. I came home from Indonesia ready to make bars of shampoo! No more plastic in my family’s showers! 

IMG_2307.jpg

We’ve been hearing about global warming for over 30 years now. We’re numb to the doom and desensitized to the gloom. No wonder we’re exhausted by the news! My heart has ached countless times for the people and animals on our planet. I know that carbon dioxide is the culprit, and burning fossil fuels by driving or flying contributes to the problem. And yet, I still have a car that burns fossil fuel. To reconcile this hypocrisy, my brain tells me many reassuring justifications. I have begun hearing these excuses for what they are: my brain’s attempt to stay in my comfort zone. I now have an answer. “It’s time to get uncomfortable.” It’s time to deal with my climate despair and grief. Educate myself on the problem our world faces and take action every day. It’s on the schedule.

 I was heckled on the internet recently because my efforts to combat climate crisis are “insignificant.” How cute that I thought my plastic-free showers were going to save the world. These are the justifications we tell ourselves (and each other!) to ease our discomfort. 

“That change is too small to make a difference.” 

“Just a few plastic shampoo bottles a year is insignificant.”

“I’m not as bad as some people.”

And those are all true if just one person makes the change. But what if millions of people are changing? If every household in the US bought just one bar of shampoo instead of a plastic bottle, we’d save 122 million plastic bottles! Over 550 million plastic shampoo bottles are ending up in landfills. I can’t even conceive of that number. 

Simple switches seem insignificant until they’re multiplied by the millions. So, it does matter that we bring our own cup for to-go coffee. It matters that you choose the product with less packaging, carpool to work, and grow your own vegetables. We live in the age of information. We can challenge ourselves to be resourceful and innovative and come up with new ways of reducing and reusing. And then we can share that information with others, encouraging them on their journey and reinforcing that we are all in this together. 

I am not a perfect zero-waste person. But I’ve been on this path of trying to do right by the planet for many years; I’m well versed in the 5 R’s (reduce, refuse, reuse, recycle, rot), even if I fall down on the execution of them sometimes. I’m a thrift store zealot. We’ve spent the last 15 years building our homestead: growing food, planting trees, raising animals. But again, I’m far from a perfectly green person. I’m not the zero-carbon guru you’re looking for! Would one zero-carbon person save the world? No! It takes all of us regular and not-great-at-this or new-to-this people who are willing to care and to try! The social proof is all around us: folks carrying water bottles or stainless coffee cups, shopping at farmer’s markets, walking and biking to school, curbing waste in their businesses, recycling, reducing their energy use. We might not be able to see each other using LED bulbs or buying energy star appliances like we could see solar panels, but every good choice reduces the carbon dioxide in our atmosphere. Every dollar we spend is a vote for something. What do we want to see more of? Plastic water bottles on the beaches? Or do we vote for sustainable, reusable, and low carbon products? 

Individuals are the base for the political change necessary to make meaningful changes toward a livable planet. So, internet trolls can say these small changes are insignificant and irrelevant, but millions of people are willing to make these changes and are willing to get uncomfortable. Carbon consciousness is the new normal. Our children will not be able to fix the global warming crisis. The time is now, and it’s up to us! So call your representatives, and add climate actions to your to-do list. It’s time to get uncomfortable.

 
IMG_3393.jpg
 


Sarah Harding grew up in North County San Diego. She spent her childhood surfing and loving the ocean. She and her husband, John, moved to Montana when they were 22 and spent the second half of their lives farming and raising a family. Now they’re Coconut at Sea Soap Co.; a family business determined to reduce the amount of plastic in our world. 

Sarah is a steadfast fan of her husband and two children, who are her absolute first priority. She believes in kindness, resourcefulness, and playful creativity.

Sarah and her family live on their tiny homemade farm in Whitefish. For more information on her soap and shampoo bars, visit her website at coconutatsea.com 

graphic created by Megan Crawford

graphic created by Megan Crawford