Earth Day’s long been communicated to the masses as a temporary cue to adopt environmentally sound practices. But therein lies the problem―they’re, often times, presented in a temporary manner. After all, the vast majority of my fellow millennial would barely have the patience―or attention span―to read through this entire excerpt, let alone assimilate light-carbon habits into their everyday lives. Let’s do our part and do the world we live in a favor.
Go for a Walk
One of the simplest, dare I say lucrative, carbon-sensitive habits is to put down the keys―and lace-up your shoes. Or just slip on your flip-flops. For myself, if the destination in question’s less than a mile-‘n’-change away, I’ll put one foot in front of the other rather than press down the gas pedal. And, fast forward fifteen-minutes after my departure, I’ve arrived at that said destination; with a lighter carbon footprint, and my wallet a tad bit heavier. Just think: if the vast majorities of Americans all decided to adopt that mantra just once, maybe twice a week, we could save billions―yes, “billions”―of tons of carbon dioxide from insulating the atmospheric blanket we’ve helped to weave.
Flick the Lightswitch
I have to honestly admit: I was, at one point in time, a complete offender of this cardinal, green-hued sin―lighting a vacant household. I’d unconsciously illuminate my room, kitchen, bathroom, you name it when I wasn’t home. And, for who’s delight? The nocturnal spiders that populated the crevices behind my refrigerator? By the simple flick of a switch―well, in my case, switches―you can lighten-up your heavy set carbon-footprint and electric bill. After all, twenty-buck saved here-‘n’-there adds up. So, by all means, invest in some environmental capital.
Take a Look Around
If there was any one mantra I’d wish would stick like biodegradable adhesive, it’d be this: a conscious, present life is an environmentally aware, fauna-empathic one. We need to lift our heads up from the neck-straining screens of our smartphones and relive that tension by admiring and appreciating the biosphere we not only occupy, but share.
Do We Really Need That?
Do we need another pair of shoes in our closets for the sole purpose of collecting dust? Why are we inclined to unwrap a plastic straw from its paper enveloping, knowing full well we’re going to drink from the glass anyways? How many napkins do we really need, surely not a handful’s worth, right? And the list goes on and on, leaving carbon traces along its inked paper trail.
“Conscious consequences,” the speech pattern of the green-tongue we need to eloquently converse with―on social media and, most importantly, face-to-face.