A few days ago I was
watering the plants on the terrace when it suddenly dawned on me:
this water is free! No matter how much I give to the plants, how long I
take showers and how thoroughly I wash the dishes – for the time
being, I won't pay a single cent. So my first thought was 'great, I
can use more water than I usually do!' My second thought, however,
was 'why would I want to waste water?'
We're living in wasteful
times. If there is an offer of 50% extra tomatoes for free, instinct
yells 'take it!' The 50% extra tomatoes will probably rot in the
fridge, because most people don't need 50% extra food. Same with
clothes: buy three shirts, get one free. I only need one, but hey,
I'd be stupid if I didn't grab the opportunity. We waste food and
packaging; we fly on weekend trips around the continent because it's
so damn cheap; we enjoy millions of songs on Spotify, accepting that
artists receive next to nothing for their work; we demand free
banking when there is no such thing as free banking without
investments in highly profitable (and ruthless!) war business.
Somewhere, someone is
paying for the stuff we think is free. The farmer, for example, who
gets less for his harvest from the supermarket wholesaler, or the
employee who is under pressure to sow more shirts. Countless souls
pay with their sweat and time and the planet suffers and cries.
Now, you could say it's no big
deal to waste a bit of water. It's not. The big deal is the
underlying mindset which leads us to believe that free stuff is
actually free. It's a delusion of separation – thinking that we
aren't connected to everyone and everything else. We assume it's okay
to waste some resources because our small actions don't make a
difference anyway. But far from it! It's one big hyper-connected
world in which all actions do make a difference. The only question
is: does my action make it a tiny bit better, or worse?
