So the
other day, a friend and I went to must be two of the nicest gift shops in the
Adirondacks. I wouldn’t have done it on
my own, but I decided it would be good practice. Left to my own devices, I probably wouldn’t
have gone in, or would have gone in, made a quick spin around and walked out
embroiled in a complex set of negative emotions: jealousy, frustration,
superiority ("I don’t need those kinds
of things") – you name it. Instead, I
took a deep breath, and got started. I
smelled the scented soaps. I felt the
glorious carpeting. I looked with wonder
at the colors of the cashmere scarves. I
imagined the jewelry on me, not on the little cardboard cards. I admired gorgeous, innovative clothing
designs. I laughed at the clever toys, and
tried testers of several colognes and scents.
When I looked at the price tags, instead of seeing them as monsters,
with the power to reduce me to a shame-filled nothing, I just saw them as
numbers. “Hmm…175 dollars, 20 dollars,
695 dollars…” I didn’t buy anything, but
I found that I walked out of these places in a really new mind frame. I appreciated what other people had created. I wanted. I desired. I was oddly at peace.
Now, of
course, these are gift shops, but
I’ve been frozen even in that regard.
Not able to give to myself, or to others. So it was also the first time in
years I saw things that friends might like, and that, too, was progress.
Many people
might say, well now, Liz, if you had played by the rules all these years and
focused on money first, and making more of it, you wouldn’t have been in this
position. And I don’t know what comes
first, the chicken or the egg. But if
you feel so cut off from yourself that you don’t even know what you like or
what your preferences are, the desire to thrive and earn and be part of the
whole network of “things” dies, and all the consumer products in the world
aren’t incentive enough because you don’t see yourself in them.
Do I want
all 6 or 7 billion of us to become passionate consumers, desiring more and more
until we drown ourselves in stuff?
No. But I found out from hard
experience that the desire to express, to own, to create, to thrive is life. It is part of being human and
living on a physical planet. Many of my
friends are going through a process of simplifying and paring down, and this,
too is natural at certain stages. But
inwardly, I find myself saying, don’t go too far! Don’t overdo it! Be very thoughtful about
keeping those few things that genuinely reflect you, that are a physical
manifestation of you, because there needs to be an anchor to keep you on the
planet from which to start growing and desiring again. I don’t think it’s a given that we will “find
ourselves” when we’ve pared down to
nothing, although it worked for me eventually. While it may be that many of us
need to do the inner work first, then “consume” from there, it’s a delicate
balancing act not to end up with zeros all across the board.
I’m pleased
that I saw things that were beautiful to me, and wanted them. I’m pleased that I could see them, and not be
sent into a tailspin. I’m pleased that I
smiled as we drove away. Suddenly, a
whole new world of loveliness and possibility seems to be opening up to me.
