I want to talk a little bit about boundaries. Specifically about the socially programmed boundaries in our heads, dividing clean and dirty, unhealthy, healthy, free and property. But first, I want to address the clean addicts. Come a little nearer, you scrubbers and bleachers, scrapers and boilers. You frantic purchasers of disinfectants and assured bacteria killers. Sssshhhhh...listen carefully, for I have something important to tell you.
On Thursday night, I ate a doughnut I came across in a bin.
Good! Today they're all off washing their brains with wire wool, we can discuss the ethics and joys of dumpster diving. One thing first: I know we don't have any dumpsters in this country, it's Britain, we have bins. It should really be "Bin Diving" but it just doesn't sound as positive, it generally does not convey a fraction of the pleasure involved with this activity, and it conjures up all the nasty (and generally mythical) elements https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/?search=New Jersey all too well. To put it simply, it's the practice of digging through bins (usually those belonging to shops and other huge institutions) to recover useable items, sometimes including food.
I've find out about dumpster diving before, with considerable interest, and it certainly resonates with me as an ethical practice in addition to a very exciting idea - but what with a very important factor and another (mostly dread and embarrassment as usual) I hardly ever did anything about any of it. But this time around the idea really captured fire for me. I would consider myself an ethical consumer, I don't eat factory chicken and try to buy free range or organic products when feasible, whenever I can http://query.nytimes.com/search/sitesearch/?action=click&contentCollection®ion=TopBar&WT.nav=searchWidget&module=SearchSubmit&pgtype=Homepage#/New Jersey I buy ingredients instead of processed food and cook issues for myself, etc. etc. But I'm often alert to how woefully brief my efforts land - better than many, but I'm still adding to several abusive and destructive chains of creation.
This season, I'm finding myself developing new sensibilities in what is essential and justified in terms of possessions and consumption, and it suddenly appears like the positive ethics of dumpster diving outweigh the niggling fear and embarrassment I feel at digging around in rubbish. Therefore last Tuesday at about 8:30pm I donned my dark hooded sweatshirt, black skinny jeans, hiking boots, took a couple of gloves, a woolly hat and, since it works out, WITHOUT my torch or any various other source of illumination, attempt to discover binnage and buried treasure.
I wanted to be as far as feasible from anyone who might recognize me or, certainly, who I'd ever meet again. So I set out by walking for Kempston, which is certainly half-merged with my hometown of Bedford and has shopping areas roughly half an hour from my flat. Along the way, traversing the backstreets, I came across a new level of recognition creeping in. Constantly on the lookout for interesting shops with promising bins and for viewing passersby, I began to be aware of my surroundings in different ways - familiar streets became fascinating side avenues I, once again and I saw details'd never observed before as I started to consider the ways behind, through the environment and around. Once I realized I'd forgotten a torch, I concluded that this would probably have to be just a scouting mission, but I was massively savoring this fresh exploring experience nonetheless.
I skirted round a couple of meters and side-alleys, tagging potential bins in my own mind as I went. I was ridiculously circumspect and jumpy - approaching any potential "target" I'd placed on my woolly hat to disguise my shaved mind as an identifying mark, and attempt to look as non-chalant as possible. I must have taken that hat on / off about 100 instances. One hoped-for target - a sizable industrial park - ended up being off putting, with too many lighting and cameras and many establishments working late with people moving about. But beyond it, and directly on the advantage of the city, was a deserted field where I collapsed for an escape (I'd been walking for nearly two hours by this time around), and surely got to view rabbits hopping around in the light of the moving car headlights significantly less than a hundred yards from my feet. It was magical, and weirdly inspiring just being out in the dark enjoying the sights and noises. I didn't even miss my TV.
Finally, in just a little walk of shops in a residential area I plucked up the courage, checked the area for individuals and lifted a bin lid for approximately a full second. It was full of empty cardboard boxes, naturally. But when I dropped that lid and walked extremely fast but incredibly nonchalantly round the part https://njjunkremoval1.weebly.com (pulling my hat down low) I felt like I'd robbed a lender, and I walked home with joy in my center. All informed I was out that evening for 4 hours, and while I didn't recreate any spoils it was an excellent and growing experience, and in addition burned off a lot of my dread ready for the next (successful) expedition.