Every little bit counts...

Today was a long day.

It didn't have to be particularly long, but it was. I started out late to work because I went to the dentist, then I spent the day dealing with the launch of our new data system, meeting about our new data system, workplace stress due to our new data system, frantic calls and emails from confused investigators and colleagues about our new data system, and then I stayed extra late to actually use our new data system to get some work done. I didn't leave the office until 8pm.

I know this doesn't sound too bad to some of you. And if you knew me before I was salaried, you know that I'm a work-aholic, and that my answer to having school off was to load up my work schedule. I think I was working off the theory that if you spend all of your time working or sleeping, you have no time to spend the money you earn. This is how I saved up enough to move across the country without having a job or apartment in place.

Now I try really hard not to work more than everyone else, especially when it gets me nowhere. I try really hard to remind myself that balance between taking care of myself and taking care of my work is important. So it's not often lately that I voluntarily work until 8pm. As such, I treated myself to a vegan burrito (filled with corn salsa, black beans, brown rice, Cajun spices and big chunks of tofu...yum!). I left the office super hungry and knew if I waited until I was home I'd be too tired to eat something real. But enough rationalizing...

Boloco (Boston Local Company) is a great burrito place. The cost is comparable to Chipotle or Qdoba, there are more options (tofu! peanut sauce! brown rice! oh my!), but those aren't the only reasons I like to go there. I noticed today as I sat and enjoyed my dinner, a sign illustrating some of the company's values. This company tries to maintain the "cool" and unique structure of whatever existed before the restaurant did. This particular Boloco retained exposed brick and had windows that can be removed on hot summer days. It overlooks Copley plaza and is in a perfect location for people watching.

Boloco also uses compostable bags, entirely plant-based and compostable cups for their beverages, and they separate out their trash, with a list of what can go in each bin. This reminds me of a great taco place a few blocks from our apartment that serves delicious food, composts in the back of the restaurant, and donates the composted goods to local farmers.

Neither of these places is fancy, and maybe they cost a little more than McDonald's or Wendy's or your fast food joint of choice, but frankly, I'd rather spend my money on something that makes me feel good. I'd rather know that I'm supporting a company that shares my values. They get how important it is to do good things (and obviously it isn't cost prohibitive or "too hard"), and they just do it.

And this is something Mr. K and I believe in. We'd rather eat out less often and go to a place that recycles and buys good ingredients and has innovative solutions for their waste, and gives back to their community, than a place that is cheap and easy but totally irresponsible. For the same reason, we refuse to patronize WalMart. The small savings we'd get from buying their super low priced goods doesn't compensate for the damage we'd be doing to the world by supporting such an organization. We also don't need that much stuff. If you're doubtful about our anti-WalMart stance, I highly recommend you check out the documentary "The High Cost of Low Price."

I've come into contact with a lot of people lately who are stressed out, sad, lonely or feeling lost in the life changes they're experiencing right now. Many of these people are really close to me, and it makes me sad to see their pain. I hear them saying that they just don't bother to worry about these things because they have too much on their plate already, and yet part of that unhappy plate is a sense that they don't have purpose, that they don't have direction, that everything is going to hell in a handbasket and there is nothing they can do about it.

Certainly a large part of this sadness and frustration and cynicism is due to the state of the world. We've had so many natural disasters, wars, conflicts and strange vote outcomes. It's scary to watch the news, and it's heartbreaking to see how much loss and destruction are out there. It's overwhelming to know that so much need exists, and to feel helpless to meet any of it.

Yet I have to remind myself that every little bit counts. I try to explain this to others, and it seems often to fall on deaf ears. But I really mean it. Every little bit counts. And it isn't the burden people might think it. Giving a little bit of time, thought or effort makes you feel better, gives you strength and purpose and makes it a little easier to stomach the day. At least that's true for me.

I tell my RYLA kids, when we talk about making an impact and taking their experience back to their communities, that it is overwhelming. I don't belittle to vastness of the world's problems. But just because there is "so much" out there that needs to be done, we shouldn't hide behind our own problems and say that we couldn't possibly make a difference, or that our efforts don't matter. In fact, they do.

Every little bit counts.


I read this book back when I first moved to Boston. It's more of a reference book than a "sit down and read me all at once" type book. Each chapter goes through different ways that you can make a manageable impact. If you love chocolate, learn about which brands are better for the earth and the world. If you love seafood, learn which areas your favorites should come from to be healthier for you and the planet.

I love that this book doesn't expect us to give up all of our worldly positions, quit our jobs and become flower children living on a commune in the woods (not that I have anything against that, it's just not practical for many these days). The author recognizes that we have lives and needs and wants and families to feed. He also realizes, however, that by becoming aware of the impact our decisions make, we can make better choices. Knowing that you chose wild Alaskan salmon for dinner instead of farm raised is empowering, because your decision made a difference. And perhaps your willingness to pay attention to where your food came from will inspire another to pay attention as well. And thus your impact multiplies.

This idea that every little bit makes a big difference can also soothe the concern for imperfection in life changes. Here I've made this commitment to being vegan for Lent. I've discovered since March 9th that my favorite spicy hot cocoa is actually made with cream, even if I request soymilk. This doesn't mean that I've been a failure (let me repeat that to myself: I am not a failure. I am not a failure). It means that I didn't know something, now I do and now I can make a more informed choice. I've since switched to chai and I get my chocolate fix from the low-fat vegan cupcakes (which are SO GOOD. and this coming from a girl who doesn't typically like chocolate cake).

This idea is echoed in Kathy Freston's Veganist, where she recommends leaning into veganism. As I mentioned previously, personal growth is not easy, and it doesn't happen overnight. Becoming more aware of our decisions, the impact they have on our world, and how we feel about them once we confront their truth is a journey, not a destination (how many more cliches can I use in one post??).

And every little bit counts.