My Filthy Mortal Life - Erasing My Carbon Footprint As A Life Goal?

I'm a filthy mortal... I know...

Many people may find it weird, but I've always been connected to and aware of the fact that I'm a mere mortal and I can die any time now...

And no, I'm not obsessed or morbid - at least not in my view. But I don't live in a bubble and I don't push the thought away. I have thought about my death many times, mostly in philosophical (understand nihilist) and also pragmatic ways (what happens after). So for instance, I wrote my first Will when I was probably around 10 years old. I remember it mostly concerned with who gets my teddy bears, haha. And down the line as a teen, evaluating the body disposal methods, I decided I must be cremated and my ashes spread in the ocean.... In the past few years, I've looked into things like whole-life insurance and considered my legacy in other ways...

But anyhow... In the past few days, two social media posts poked me to consider yet another aspect of my mortality.

One was about a 38-year-old woman who had been diagnosed with a rare, deadly cancer. Faced with something so immense and final, she didn’t spiral into endless treatments or denial. She decided to live fully, to embrace what time she had left, and not to spend her days trying not to die. Having a hospital-injury-needles phobia, I think this would have been my strategy too if I was told how much time I've got. The second was a quote from a guest on Stephen Bartlett’s podcast who said something along the lines of, "You matter now, but you likely won't matter in 1000 years.'' And again, the nihilist I am - I totally agree.

I've always believed in enjoying your life, living with your own purpose, and living with integrity.

But these two reminders stirred something new in me. They forced me to pause and ask myself: If I had one year left to live, what would I want to accomplish? What would I want to leave behind?

And you know how when you go into the wilderness you see those signs that say ''Leave no trace.'', well, I want that. I want to leave no trace of my filthy mortal life with its shit ton of C02... as much as this is possible, of course.

So, among all the emotional, professional, and personal answers that came rushing forward, one surprisingly practical one kept coming back: I want to leave the planet as if I was never here. I want to carbon-neutralise my existence.

Carbon Footprint: The Ghost We Leave Behind

It may sound a little odd, I know, for most people, when they think of legacy, they imagine children or books or money or buildings with their names on them. And yes, of course I want some of these legacy pieces - i.e. write a book. But I kept thinking about something more invisible—the carbon footprint I've created simply by existing, working, travelling, and living in the modern world.

I travel a lot. I drive a petrol car - my lovely SUV - FRUT. I own things made of plastic. I order takeout, and even if I shop local, there's plastic packaging I can’t always avoid or reusee. I’m not perfect. I can't be. Nobody is.

But this isn’t about guilt. It’s not about shame or pretending I live in a tent and wash in a stream. It’s about awareness. And with awareness comes responsibility—not the heavy, burdened kind, but the kind that says, I see this, and I choose to do something about it. Becoming carbon neutral, or as close as I can realistically get, feels like a way to honour my place on this planet, and live with integrity.

The Numbers That Brought It Home

As I started researching what it would actually take to offset my carbon footprint, I found some sobering numbers. The average Westerner produces between 10 and 16 tonnes of CO₂ per year. That’s tonnes, not kilograms.

And the average tree? It absorbs about 10 kilograms (or 22 pounds) of carbon dioxide per year for the first 20 years of its life. A mature tree, depending on species and climate, can absorb up to 40 kg per year.

So I started doing the math. If I assume I’m somewhere in the lower to middle range of that 10–16 tonnes (and I’ll explain why in a moment), I would need to plant a minimum of 500 trees just to begin offsetting my yearly emissions. And that’s not even counting past years or future growth. Just the present, and just one year.

It was a humbling moment, but also an empowering one—because now I had a number. Something tangible. Something I could work toward.

Why I Believe My Impact Is (Slightly) Lower

Now, I don’t think I’m on the high end of the spectrum. I try to live a fairly minimalist life. I don’t buy a lot of things. I don’t upgrade my phone every year or get sucked into every trend. I hate clothes shopping and can't say I've participated in the fast fashion culture. In fact, I’m actively transitioning my wardrobe to natural fabrics.

And then there’s the big one: I won’t be having children. I don’t talk about this much, but it’s worth saying here—choosing not to have children is one of the most impactful eco-friendly decisions a person can make in terms of long-term emissions and resource use. It’s not why I made that choice, but it is a powerful side effect.

That said, I do travel a lot. And I probably always will. Travel fills my soul, teaches me perspective, and connects me to people and cultures in ways nothing else can. So I’m not pretending to be emissions-free. But I am doing what I can, where I can, to lessen the harm and increase the good.

Yes, I’ll Pay. But I’ll Also Plant.

I am sceptical and distrustful of all sorts of charities and charitable programs. I see most of them as scams that pay management handsomely, while recruiting volunteers and doing less than the bare minimum for their said cause, while maybe engaging in some money laundering too.

Soooo, of course, I am sceptical about carbon offset programs too. Nonetheless, I can't physically dedicate the time, energy or finances to plant the 500+ trees that I should to offset my carbon footprint. So, I will donate to tree planting initiatives that seem to have good reputations and transparent operations. I plan to make it a habit—a quiet, ongoing commitment to help restore some balance. Maybe it'll be buying/donating for more trees to be planted every year on my birthday.

That said, I also want to get my hands dirty. I belive in being actively involved in doing the good work yourself. As a former workaholic and forever self-reliant person, I say - if you want something done (well) do it yourself. Planting trees myself is my only way to know with a 100% guarantee that I have done something to offset my carbon footprint. So, yes, I want to plant some of the trees myself. I want to dig into the earth, feel the roots, and know exactly where that tree is growing. Not as a performance, but as a grounding experience—a way to really feel and see the contribution I’m making.

There’s something deeply satisfying in that simplicity: you plant a tree, you leave it behind, and it grows and you can go visit it.

What My Carbon-Neutral Plan Looks Like

I’m not about to hop on planes just to chase planting projects around the world. That would defeat the purpose. But if I’m already going to Europe, more specifically back to Bulgaria where my roots are from, I’ll take the opportunity to connect with groups that organize tree planting efforts there and get involved.

I'd also like to do this here in Aotearoa New Zealand, which I hope will become my forever home. I want to find ways to contribute locally, too. I want to know that some of the trees I helped bring to life are thriving right here, in the place that may hold my future.

Additionally, one day, when I have my own house, I will plant the trees I want in my yard too. I already have a list - with mulberries (my favourite fruit) being at the top.

I imagine this being a quiet rhythm in my life—a few trees bought and donated here, a few planted by hand there.

Goodness Is Contagious—I’ve Seen It

One of the other reasons this felt important to share is because I know that doing good things can be contagious. I’ve seen it happen with my own eyes. When someone shares something heartfelt they’ve done—not in a smug, saviour-y way, but just as a normal part of their life—other people start to think about what they could do, too. When you begin doing something good, people will stare at first, but soon they join you and become part of it.

I’m not here to convert anyone. But I do believe in the ripple effect. If I go and plant trees, maybe a friend will want to join. Or maybe someone will just reflect on their own footprint and take a step that feels right for them. That’s enough. That’s powerful.

Carbon Neutrality Is Just the Beginning

This whole process has made me realise something else: becoming carbon neutral is just one thread in a much larger fabric of how I want to live. I’ve been slowly shifting my wardrobe away from plastic-based clothing. I hate shopping, so it’s a long journey, but I’m committed to wearing more natural fabrics—cotton, wool, linen. Things that breathe with me and don’t harm the planet long after I’m gone.

And I’m also dreaming up a home—my own house one day. I’m working with my inner architect (and one day a real one) to design something that isn’t just pretty, but smart. A home that uses ancient wisdom about airflow and heat. A place that collects rainwater, filters it, uses solar energy, and invites the outside in. Not some off-grid fantasy, but a thoughtfully designed space that supports my health and honours the earth.

These things matter to me. Not as a checklist of virtue, but as a way to live in better relationship with the world around me.

Did You Know: Sequoias Might Be the Coolest Carbon Heroes of All Time

So while I was nerding out on trees and carbon offsetting (as you do), I came across some jaw-dropping facts about one of my favourite trees on Earth — the giant sequoia. You know, those majestic redwoods that feel like ancient guardians of the forest? Turns out, they’re not just beautiful… they’re absolute carbon-sequestering powerhouses.

Here are some amazing things I learned that made me fall in love with them even more:

🌲 Carbon Absorption Grows With Age

• Young sequoias absorb carbon, but like moody teenagers, they’re just warming up.

• As they grow older, taller, and wider, their CO₂ capturing capacity skyrockets. The bigger they get, the more carbon they suck from the atmosphere — and they just don’t stop.
  

🌍 The General Sherman Tree Is a Climate Superhero

• This single, legendary giant has sequestered over 1,400 metric tons of carbon dioxide in its lifetime.

• That’s enough to offset nearly three entire human lifetimes of carbon emissions. From just one tree. Let that sink in. (Reminder, we are over 8 billion people on this planet)
  

🌲 A 100-Year-Old Sequoia Can Absorb Over 3 Tonnes of CO₂ per Year

• That’s per year. Not in its lifetime.

• And the older and bigger it gets, the more it pulls from the atmosphere.

• These trees literally get better at saving the planet as they age. (Can humans do that, too?)
  

🌿 Why They’re So Effective

• They’re massive — the largest trees on Earth by volume.

• They live forever (okay, maybe not forever, but 2,500+ years is basically mythical).

• They store carbon in their huge, dense bodies and in the ecosystems they support, making them one of the most powerful long-term carbon sinks we know of.
  

🧠 Key Takeaway Their superpower isn’t just their beauty or longevity — it’s their massive, quiet ability to clean the air for centuries at a time.

So next time you hug a tree (you know you want to), make it a sequoia if you can.

What Peace Feels Like (To Me)

At the heart of it, this isn’t about being a hero. It’s about peace. The peace that comes from knowing I’m living in alignment with my values, even if the actions are small. Every tree, every shirt, every conversation about rainwater tanks and bamboo floors—it all adds up to a life I can be proud of.

Not perfect. But real.

If You’re Reading This…

Maybe you’ve had a moment like mine—a social media post, a passing comment, a health scare that cracked you open and made you re-evaluate everything. If so, I want to say this: don’t ignore it.

Let it be a beginning.

Your version of legacy might be different from mine. Maybe it’s about art or animals or family or protest or healing. But whatever it is, find a way to start walking toward it. Even if it’s just one tree at a time.

Dare to live with integrity.