As I wade through all the things I’ve collected over the past year, I’m reminded of how easy it is just to accumulate stuff. And how I probably have more things in this one tiny room than several families combined in some parts of Africa and India. It’s amazing.

The majority of it is either stuff I’ve thrifted or made or stuff that I hope to one day make grand things out of, like fake fur wristbands or sock monkeys.

I’m separating piles to return to the thrift store (mostly polyester), piles to go to friends (mostly extra craft supplies), piles to throw away/recycle (mostly stuff from work) and piles for storage (mostly pictures).

And thinking about how every time someone makes something or buys something secondhand they are fighting against excess materialism, and therefore participating in a form of activism.

Activism, much like feminism, has been given a bad reputation over the years; but I firmly believe that it goes far beyond picket lines and reaches into your everyday life.

Recently I pointed out to my parents that they were activists because they are members of various committees and boards that work for change. They recoiled for a moment, as I tried to stress that “activism” (to me, at least) is apparent everywhere you put passion into making this world even a little bit better.

I like that. Who knows, maybe you do, too.