Zero Waste Lifestyle: Practical Tips for Daily Choices

You know, I keep seeing these articles about "<a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/the-path-to-zero-waste-looking-back-on-difficulties-and-achievements/"><a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/the-path-to-zero-waste-looking-back-on-difficulties-and-achievements/">zero waste</a></a> lifestyles" written by twenty-something influencers who seem to have it all figured out, and honestly? It makes me want to roll my eyes. Here I am at 68, finally getting serious about reducing waste after decades of throwing away everything under the sun, and these young people are acting like they invented the concept. Well, let me tell you something – my mother was doing <a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/the-path-to-zero-waste-looking-back-on-difficulties-and-achievements/">zero waste</a> back in the 1950s. She just didn't call it that because it was called "not having money to waste."

After my husband died and I spent months sorting through our accumulated junk – and I mean junk, stuff we'd bought and forgotten about, duplicate items because we couldn't remember what we already had – I realized we'd been living completely backwards. We'd abandoned all the sensible practices I grew up with and replaced them with this ridiculous throwaway culture that's choking the planet.

So I decided to go back to basics, and let me tell you, it's been quite the learning experience. Some things work great, others are completely impractical in modern life, and a few have saved me more money than I expected. If you're thinking about reducing waste but don't know where to start, maybe my trial-and-error approach will help you avoid some of the mistakes I made.

The first thing I tackled was food waste, mainly because it was driving me crazy how much I was throwing away. When you're cooking for one after forty years of cooking for a family, you tend to buy out of habit and watch half of it rot in the fridge. I started planning meals like my mother did – writing down exactly what I needed for the week and sticking to the list. Sounds simple, right? Well, it took me about three months to actually follow through consistently.

I bought a small whiteboard for the refrigerator and started writing down leftovers so I wouldn't forget about them. You'd be amazed how often I'd find containers of food I'd completely forgotten about hiding behind the milk. Now I eat leftovers the next day, no exceptions, even if I don't feel like it. My grandmother would have smacked me upside the head for throwing away perfectly good food, and I can practically hear her voice when I'm tempted to order takeout instead of eating what's already prepared.

Composting was the next logical step, though I'll admit I was intimidated at first. Seemed like something that required expertise I didn't have. Turns out it's pretty foolproof – you throw vegetable scraps and yard waste in a bin and nature does the rest. I bought a simple rotating composter from the hardware store for about sixty dollars. My neighbor Bob thought I was going through some kind of hippie phase and made a few jokes about it, but now he asks me for advice because his wife wants to start composting too.

The real game-changer was getting serious about repairing things instead of replacing them. This required me to learn some skills I'd let slide over the years. My mother could darn socks, hem pants, fix small appliances – all things I used to know how to do but got out of the habit when it became easier to just buy new stuff. I found a sewing machine at a yard sale for fifteen dollars and spent a weekend figuring out how to use it again. First project was mending a tear in my favorite cardigan that I'd been meaning to throw away for two years.

Now I actually enjoy the process of fixing things. It's satisfying in a way that buying replacements never was. Last month I took my old vacuum to a repair shop instead of buying a new one – cost me thirty-five dollars to fix versus at least two hundred for a decent replacement. The repair guy, who must be about my age, said most people don't even try to fix things anymore. We had a nice conversation about how wasteful everything has become.

Reducing plastic has been the most challenging part, mainly because it's basically impossible to eliminate entirely unless you want to make your own toothpaste and shampoo, which I tried and gave up on pretty quickly. But I've made significant progress in the areas where it's actually practical. I keep cloth shopping bags in my car and refuse plastic bags at stores. I bring my own containers to the deli counter and the bulk bins at the health food store. The staff looked at me like I was from Mars at first, but now they're used to it.

Glass jars have become my best friends. I save every single one – pasta sauce jars, pickle jars, jam jars – and use them for storage. My pantry looks like something from the 1940s with all these repurposed jars filled with bulk items. It actually looks quite nice and organized, much better than having a bunch of plastic containers that don't stack properly. My daughter thinks I'm going overboard with the jar collecting, but she uses the ones I give her, so she can't complain too much.

Water bottles were an easy switch – I bought a good stainless steel one and keep it filled from the tap. Coffee shops will fill it with water for free, and most places are happy to accommodate if you ask nicely. I was spending probably forty dollars a month on bottled water before, which seems ridiculous now. The tap water here in Massachusetts is perfectly fine, better than a lot of bottled water if you actually read the labels.

Clothing has been interesting to rethink. I'd gotten into the habit of buying cheap clothes that fell apart after a few washes, then just replacing them. Now I shop almost exclusively at consignment stores and thrift shops, looking for quality pieces that will last. Found a beautiful wool coat at Goodwill for twelve dollars that probably cost someone two hundred dollars originally. It's been professionally cleaned and looks better than most new coats I see in department stores.

The hardest part isn't the practical stuff – it's dealing with other people's reactions. Some folks think I'm being silly or extreme. My neighbor across the street made a comment about me "going back to the stone age" when she saw me hanging laundry on the line. But you know what? I'm saving money, reducing waste, and feeling better about my impact on the environment. If that makes me old-fashioned, I'm perfectly fine with that.

Meals have become much simpler and, honestly, more enjoyable. I cook from scratch most of the time now, using ingredients with minimal packaging. Sunday afternoon I'll make a big pot of soup or stew that gives me meals for several days. Tastes better than anything you can buy prepared, costs a fraction of the price, and creates almost no waste except for compostable vegetable scraps. My granddaughter was amazed when I made bread from scratch – apparently none of her friends' grandmothers bake anymore. Made me realize how many basic skills we've lost as a society.

Cleaning supplies were another area where I went back to <a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/zero-waste-cleaning-products-that-actually-clean-better-than-chemicals/"><a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/zero-waste-cleaning-products-that-actually-clean-better-than-chemicals/">old-fashioned methods</a></a>. Vinegar, baking soda, and castile soap handle most cleaning tasks just fine. My mother cleaned our entire house with these basic ingredients, and somehow we survived without antibacterial everything and specialized cleaners for every surface. I tried making my own laundry detergent but gave up after the third batch didn't work properly. Some things are worth buying, even if they come in plastic containers.

The bathroom has been the trickiest room to make <a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/the-path-to-zero-waste-looking-back-on-difficulties-and-achievements/">zero waste</a> changes in, mainly because of all the personal care items that only come in plastic bottles. I switched to bar soap and shampoo bars, which work fine and eliminate several plastic bottles per month. Found a company that makes toothpaste in glass jars, though it's more expensive than regular toothpaste. Still haven't figured out what to do about all the plastic prescription bottles – asked my pharmacy if they have any alternatives and got blank stares.

Shopping has become a completely different experience. Instead of wandering around stores buying whatever catches my eye, I make lists and stick to them. I buy less stuff overall but spend more on quality items that will last. A good kitchen knife that I'll have for twenty years instead of cheap ones that need replacing every few years. Shoes that can be resoled instead of disposable sneakers. It requires more thought upfront but saves money and waste in the long run.

Travel has gotten more complicated but not impossible. I pack reusable water bottles, utensils, and containers so I can avoid disposable items on the road. Bring snacks in reusable containers instead of buying individually packaged stuff at gas stations. It requires more planning, but it's doable. Last time I visited my son in California, I managed to get through both airports without generating any trash except for the boarding passes, which I couldn't figure out how to avoid.

The financial impact has been mostly positive, which surprised me. Yes, I spend more on some individual items when I buy quality instead of cheap disposables. But my overall spending has decreased significantly because I buy less stuff in general. My utility bills are lower from hanging laundry and being more conscious about energy use. Grocery bills are way down from meal planning and reducing food waste. I'm probably saving a couple hundred dollars a month, which makes a real difference on a fixed income.

What really drives me is thinking about my grandchildren. They're going to inherit a world full of our waste – plastic in the oceans, landfills overflowing, climate change accelerating. The least I can do is stop contributing to the problem and maybe even clean up a tiny bit of the mess my generation made. Every plastic bottle I don't buy, every item I repair instead of replacing, every bit of food I don't waste – it's a small act of responsibility toward their future.

The biggest lesson I've learned is that <a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/the-path-to-zero-waste-looking-back-on-difficulties-and-achievements/">zero waste</a> doesn't have to be perfect or extreme to be worthwhile. I'm never going to eliminate every bit of waste from my life, and that's okay. Making significant improvements is better than doing nothing because you can't do everything perfectly. My trash output is probably a quarter of what it was two years ago, and that feels like a real accomplishment.

If you're thinking about <a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/a-comprehensive-guide-to-reducing-plastic-waste-in-daily-life/"><a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/a-comprehensive-guide-to-reducing-plastic-waste-in-daily-life/">reducing waste in your own life</a></a>, start small and be patient with yourself. Pick one area – food waste, plastic bags, whatever bothers you most – and work on that until it becomes habit before adding something else. Don't let perfect be the enemy of good. Every small change matters when you multiply it by millions of people making similar choices. And honestly? <a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/embracing-minimalism-for-a-sustainable-lifestyle/">A lot of these old-fashioned practices</a> make life simpler and more satisfying once you get used to them again. Who knows, you might even save some money in the process.

Donna

Donna’s retired but not slowing down. She spends her days gardening, reusing, and finding peace in simpler living. Her writing blends reflection with realism—gentle reminders that sustainability starts at home, in daily habits and quiet choices.