McKenna - A Practical Guide to Living with Less Waste and More Joy

It was March 2013, and I was headed to Indonesia for my dads wedding. There was already a lot going on in my life; I was transitioning into my first full-time career job as an urban planner and moving cities for the position, plus I was planning my own wedding. My then fianc, now husband, was traveling through Asia and we met in Jakarta, for my dads wedding. It all felt incredibly overwhelming because my sister and I hadnt yet met my dads beautiful Indonesian wife-to-be or her children, and our two families were about to come together.

Their wedding at the Shangri-La Hotel was undeniably picturesque and extravagant. The cuisine alone was a world tour for my taste buds, ranging from fresh sushi to spicy Indian curry and build-your-own desserts. Everyone was dressed to the nines. I wore a full-length gold gown with my blond hair in an updo and makeup that was red carpet ready. For their ceremony, my dad and his wife wore traditional Indonesian attire that was beautifully embellished and elaborate. Afterward, he changed into a tuxedo and his wife wore what I can only describe as a princess dress from a Disney movie: It was a beautiful ball gown that caught the attention of all their family and friends. After their wedding in Jakarta, the plan was to head to Bali as a big, happy family so all of us could get to know one another better while we enjoyed the panoramic views. Little did I know that this trip to Bali was about to change my life foreverand in more ways than one.

We explored Jakarta for a few days, then flew to Bali, a place idealized as a relaxing, pristine island getaway with vibrant coral reefs, unspoiled crystal-clear beaches, rows of rice paddies, active volcanoes, and old-growth rain forests. Before wed even bought our plane tickets, I knew I wanted to snorkel at a place like the Blue Lagoon. I had seen photos and videos of the bright-blue waters and coral reefs bursting with sea life. But when we finally went snorkeling and I dove below the surface, I found myself watching the ocean currents gently sway with trash and discarded plastics suspended among the innocent fish and colorful corals. At the time, I had no idea that Indonesia is one of the top five countries worldwide known for dumping plastic into our oceans, alongside Vietnam, China, Thailand, and the Philippines, but I knew something needed to change.

Perhaps naively, I wanted the entire world to know that our lifestyles were ruining these pristine destinations. My gut reaction was that I needed to go back to school to become a marine conservationistthat this was the only way I would actually be able to make a difference (keep in mind, Id already spent six-plus years in university). I figured that I should be an expert, but looking back, that wasnt the most practical response. No one needs a special degree to support conservation, and if I had pursued that special degree, I might have deferred my decision to begin making concrete changes to my life that would help the environment.

At the same time, I couldnt stop talking about the trash issue with my family while we were on vacation. They were definitely concerned, but I took it to a different level by pondering these types of questions aloud to anyone who would listen (voluntarily or not): I wonder how the trash is getting into the sea. Is it litter? Is it illegal dumping? How is industry involved? What can we do about it? Should it be tackled by the government, by companies, or by individuals like me? All of these questions and more were swirling in my head and flowing freely out of my mouth like water from an open faucet. Pummeling my family with all of these inquiries while we were on vacation may not have been the best approach for getting them to care as much about the trash as I did, but during that trip, a fire grew inside me, and I knew it was there to stay. I had always wanted to have a positive impact on the planet and inspire change in other people, and seeing the state of things in Bali was the fuel I needed to kick-start my journey.

Less than twenty-four hours later, all of those dreams came crashing down. While I was losing sleep over the great Pacific garbage patch, back in Canada one of my best friends, Paige, had been desperately trying to get ahold of me. At this point, I was pretty much off the grid with my fianc in Baliwe had parted ways with my family to travel, just the two of usand checking my phone wasnt on the agenda. Eventually one of her messages got through. This was followed by many more. Reading the string of messages, I saw that they were becoming increasingly urgent, so I called her as soon as I could. The Wi-Fi in our low-budget hotel room was shoddy, so I rushed to the main office for a better signal. While I ran down what seemed like a million stairs to get to the office, I thought about Paiges parents. Is everything okay with them? I wondered to myself. Maybe theyve had a health scare, or maybe Paige had an emergency in the family. These were all assumptions, however, because her messages to me were urgent yet vague, and for a good reason.

Through a slightly broken long-distance connection she told me to sit down. Shit, I thought. What the heck is going on? This cannot be good. Given the time difference between Bali and Toronto, I knew it was an ungodly hour for Paige to be trying to reach me. Aside from that, its hard to remember how the conversation really went down. Its all a blur in my mind now. The news was worse than I ever could have imagined. Our other best friend had just died in a car crash. She was only twenty-six. My fianc and I took the next flight home.