The Mysterious Disappearance...

It's been two months since my last post, and thus two months since I took away the paper recycling bins at the office. Though I did naively hope that the (in)action would elicit some sort of proactive response from my coworkers, I knew ultimately little would be done and that I'd mainly have to face some confused faces.

The first couple of weeks makeshift bins began to appear in the previously designated areas, which I quickly removed, knowing that, like the normal bins, they would pile up till I took them "away." For a short moment I entertained the idea of letting the mess grow out of hand so as to give people a real physical example of the collected mass of waste we accumulate; as I've occasionally had inklings of aspiration to make a instillation piece out of our waste, hoping to transplant it during my weekly trips to a nearby gallery SPACE. The idea being to actually close the gallery to the public as a contaminated space, or landfill, thus forcing them to view it from outside the large open glass facade, where over the duration of the exhibit facts and warnings would be placed to disseminate information. The mess would grow weekly till it became practically unbearable and uncontainable within the gallery, at which point an intervention would be held and the public would be invited to participate in a clean up. I went as far as placing a phone call and leaving a message with the curator, but I left it at that, as I feared having to answer to the possibility of confidential information, emails, artwork, invoices, etc. from my company being made public. More than a few times my imagination ran away with possible scenarios and implications unfolding; should I ask their permission, or should I ask for forgiveness, and how long could I hide it from them, would I be fired, what kind of stir would that cause in the press?

But I digress.

Slowly it became obvious to my coworkers that the recycling was no longer being provided and I was often, and still am, though less frequently, stopped in the hallways and asked whether or not we were still recycling. It was a question, the phrasing of which I took some exception to, being careful to clarify that yes, I had stopped recycling paper. Filled with consternation, inevitably their next question was, "Why?" Why indeed. How was it that the treehugger was giving up? "I'm tired," was always my short reply. I was literally tired of, and from, lugging all that weight across town every week -too, it was a lonely excursion during which I was left with the entirely different, yet equally heavy weight of my thoughts, which were balanced by two opposing notions, one concerned with the importance of my actions, and the other with a growing resentment toward the lack of support I was being given other than an occasional bit of lip service.

As the conversations lengthened with more questions and answers, it became quite obvious to me how poorly over the past two years I related the actual facts of my endeavor, or maybe how little people actually listen. Some people didn't know that I had to drive across town, that I was simply bringing it down to the building's loading dock where the waste is collected; strangely these were people who have worked in the office longer than I have and that I know have been down to the loading dock enough times to know there is no such collection system. Others didn't even know I was the one who was doing it -this is partially due to the problem of turnover. And still to some I imagine it was like nothing had ever changed, ever.

Essentially, the people who made the effort to approach me with their gratitude when I began were the same people to approach me when I stopped, they were still thankful for my effort, and every one of them remarked how unfortunate it was that the program would not continue. "That's too bad," they would say. And it is too bad. There were also the select few who still offered to help and never followed through. One person had gone as far as trying to put together a petition for the office to sign, but when I mentioned that it looked like I would finally, on their invitation, be meeting with building management about a program, the petition was never mentioned again, nor has the meeting happened.

Meanwhile, my new devil may care attitude has eased my daily anxieties and obsessive compulsiveness over the whole issue, and afforded me a certain freedom from the burden of my guilt. A few years ago, it was an epiphany of sorts I suppose, I came to the belief that humanity's nature is essentially based on our need to be innocent. So is it really any wonder that it's our redeeming qualities which bring us so near our spiritual maladies? Not something I think in our daily experience which we prefer.