"It really is possible to be zero waste"

I came across a piece in The Guardian not long ago with this very headline, about a restaurant in Mexico City that runs entirely without a bin. Everything that enters its doors has a purpose—and when that purpose ends, there’s a plan. Whether it’s feeding the next ferment, returning to the soil, or transforming into something new, nothing goes to waste.

That idea stayed with me. Why? Because in today’s world, the same sentence coming from someone like us can be brushed off, but when it appears in a major newspaper, it suddenly carries weight. If a busy, high-pressure kitchen can manage that kind of thoughtful flow, surely our homes—quieter and more predictable—can too.

Not About Perfection—But Possibility

I know some people will challenge the idea and say, “There’s no such thing as 100% zero waste.” Maybe they’re right in a technical sense—but that’s not really the point. What matters to me is the word possible. Because once something is possible, it sets a direction. It invites us to ask, How might I begin?

The journey toward zero waste is all about ongoing, open-ended experimentation. It’s more scientific than idealistic. Have I reached zero waste? No, far from it. But low waste? Yes, definitely. And from there, I’ve gained enough experience to share what helps—and what holds us back.

A Rhythm That Guides Us

At Echoing Green Earth, we often return to a simple framework: In → Use → Out. It’s our eco rhythm, and it quietly informs everything we do.

In: What We Bring Home

Every product that enters our home carries an invisible future. Some stay with us for years; others serve their purpose in weeks. But none of them simply vanish when we’re done. If it can’t be composted, reused, or recycled, it ends up in the bin—and that’s where the cycle stops. A waste is created.

That’s where our current system breaks down. Too many products are made without any plan for how they can disappear without harming the earth.

That’s why the most powerful shift we can make is this: pause before we buy. Ask ourselves, How will this end its life? In my own home, I’ve learned to look for three simple things:

• Products made from 100% natural materials—things like natural wood, plant fibres, or clay. These can be safely composted or even buried to return gently to the earth.
• Products made from recyclable, enduring materials—such as stainless steel, aluminium, or glass. These tend to last longer, often get passed on as pre-loved items, and can be recycled without downgrading their quality.
• Products that are repairable. Especially in tech gadgets and household appliances, repairability matters. How often do we toss a kitchen blender or vacuum cleaner because of a broken button or cracked base? (As for more sophisticated tech—like high-end smartphones, laptops, or wearables—where home repair is difficult or nearly impossible, manufacturers have a responsibility to offer take-back schemes. It’s the only way to ensure these complex devices are properly dismantled and their materials recovered.)

Use: The Quiet Middle

This part is often overlooked. But how we use what we own can be where the real magic happens.

It’s in the small habits—regular care, occasional repair, even repurposing. Ideas such as turning old T-shirts into cleaning cloths and saving glass jars to hold dried herbs or flowers. There’s something satisfying about an object that’s softened and worn from use, shaped by our hands over time. I’m sure you’ve got a few items like that too.

Out: The Gentle Exit

If we’ve made thoughtful choices on the way in, the “out” part is usually simple—home composting or proper recycling. No guilt. No guesswork. No overflowing bin.

What the Restaurant Got Right

The restaurant from the article didn’t succeed through complicated systems. It worked because nothing was brought in without a plan. That one principle—have a plan for the end—is quietly revolutionary. And it’s something we can begin practising at home, too.

The truth is, yes—it really is possible to live with less waste. Whether you call it zero waste or low waste, it all starts with a single question at the point of purchase:

Can this be composted or recycled at the end of its life?

If the answer is no, that might be a good reason to pause. When we begin choosing only what fits into nature’s cycles, we stop sending things to landfill—and start seeing the bin as something we use less and less.