Moving to a new place that's around 1400 square feet smaller than the one you were previously in, therefore, is astronomically wasteful.
Like, scary wasteful.
Like, scary, oh-my-gosh-how-did-I-ever-manage-to-acquire-all-of-this-stuff wasteful.
Let's just say that I was rather glad that we didn't use two of the rooms in the last house we rented, because... wow. We ended up taking a good third of our house to the landfill.
You have to understand: I'm the type of person that recycles way more than I place in the trash can. I reuse a great deal, as well. The idea of throwing a huge amount of items into a landfill, therefore, was enough to send my stress levels into overdrive.
It had to be done, though.
It wasn't the stuff. I'm not a person that becomes horribly attached to stuff. Well... except maybe books.
We all have weaknesses, after all.
It was the large amount of items that wouldn't be reused. Things that wouldn't be donated. Basically, we ran out of time. I had no time left to fill donation boxes.
So, one third of our household items found their way into the landfill. How much is one third of the house, exactly?
Almost a full ton.
Hearing that caused my chest to constrict. I had to concentrate hard on not hyperventilating. It wasn't that we hoard things. We didn't have loads of items crammed into closets.
We just had that much space in the house, and as humans, we apparently chose to find ways to fill it.
Naturally, I turned philosophical.
I began asking myself why we felt the need to acquire so much. What could I do to discourage future accumulations of... well... crap we don't need? How much do I need? Is less truly more?
How do I keep from ever running into this horrifying, wasteful situation again?
For my family, moving was a lesson in just how wasteful people can be.