Deep inside, we like to believe that we do not waste—at least not like others. We tell ourselves we only purchase what we need, that we don’t discard things while they still hold value. We reuse, recycle, restore. At times we get irritated at the irresponsible packaging as expressed in my earlier post.
When I moved to Saudi Arabia in 2025, with just two and a half suitcases, I began to see how little I actually needed to live a fulfilling life. It was a quiet contemplation that all these days I have been indulging in excess.
And it dawned on me that when I went back home, I needed to start with a clear-out. What had slowly piled up over the years—drawers, shelves, storage boxes. Things kept aside “just in case,” things replaced but never discarded, things simply forgotten.
Items still in good condition. Clothes worn once or twice. Gadgets replaced before their time. Even small things—half-used notebooks, cables I never went back to, books I meant to read but didn’t.
It wasn’t just about waste. It was neglect.
Mottainai, a Japanese term, helped bring clarity to this.
It is not just about waste in the physical sense, but a deeper feeling—a kind of respect for what we have, and a sense of regret when that respect is missing.
The following questions need to be answered.
How often do we replace instead of repair?
Order more instead of finishing what’s already there?
Hold on to things we don’t need, while someone else might?
And beyond objects—how much time slips away unnoticed? How much attention gets scattered?
It sounds simple, but we rarely think of it this way. We associate waste with excess, but not always with neglect.
Mottainai, to me, is a reminder to be more conscious. To use fully, to value quietly, and to let go responsibly.
Because sometimes, respect is not about acquiring more—it is about using what we have to the fullest.
