What’s With All This Stuff (Continued)?

(Grumble, grumble, grumble.) Okay. I’m back. Now where were we? Oh yes (sighs). The toys.

Why are some of us so obsessed with stuff – the houses, cars, gadgets, even junk? Here’s a shout out to all the pack-rats out there: You haven’t even opened your neighbour’s Operation game that you bought for 50 cents at his yard sale 12 years ago! Why are you hanging on to that junk? It’s a good thing you don’t move often.

I just don’t understand why we’re driven to consume more and more, to collect more and more belongings – including things we couldn’t possibly need. I understand why we like sleek, shiny cars and flat-screen TV’s, self-indulgent as we are, but how can we possibly need 10 of them? Or an entire rec. room dedicated to a bottle “collection”. Seriously, what’s wrong with us?

All these things we “need” to own don’t even make us happy, though we foolishly believe that they will. They sometimes even make the people around us very unhappy. Of course, I don’t mean because they’re jealous and want to have a new car, too. We care more about our possessions than the living, breathing souls closest to us. (Come on now. Be honest. I know I’m not the only person to ever refuse to let my little sister into my new car with her strawberry milkshake – though I later reconsidered and said milkshake later landed all over the front seat, as predicted. Oh snap!)

Yes, I’ve had my own obsessions with stuff. Fashion can, at times, be my biggest weakness. I once moved from Yellowknife, NWT to Small Town, AB with a U-Haul trailer containing my fancy-schmancy treadmill, electronics and a whole lot of clothes. That’s it. No furniture, housewares or anything remotely useful. Oh, I had many fine, beautiful clothes. Eventually, I stopped dying a slow, foodless death of misery and self-hatred and got far too fat for my super-model clothes anyway!

I, personally, had to lose everything and start from scratch a few times over before I finally learned that material gain is the absolute worst goal or motivator with no hope for any true, personal gratification.

That’s not to say we should never buy ourselves any toys ever again but that we should keep them in their rightful position in our order of priorities – at the very bottom. In the end:
1) It’s the end.
2) We can’t take it with us – wherever we may be going.

I know when I get to the pearly gates I will have many wrongs to account for. One of my responses will be:

“Yes, God, I sold my soul to the devil for a glorious cello. I also helped people and innocent animals often and tried my best, for the most part, to be a good and kind person. Shall I fetch my cello and play you a hymn now?”

Wish me luck!