Void Transaction

So I've had this title sitting in my draft pile for months. This is unlike me; usually when an idea strikes I have an urgency to get it out immediately. I love that part of the creative process, that it's a deep need. I think I've held off writing this post so as not to sound judgmental or hypocritical. This piece is not meant to condemn those who shop a lot. That's not my business. Rather, after examining my own patterns and shifts in said patterns, I have learned a lot about the incessant need to buy shit. It is not revelatory that shopping fills a void. That is known, yet it is a crack addiction that is deemed acceptable since it isn't actually crack. Especially if it's "stuff for the kids".  Do our children really care if they have six sweatshirts or eight? Of course not. There is good reason why when on a show about hoarding, there is always a psychiatrist or psychologist on hand. Obtaining THINGS is unquestionably something we do as a means of keeping busy, distraction, giving a time table to an otherwise empty and unstructured day, and a shot of instant (though unfulfilling) gratification. THINGS and STUFF can also dangerously be expressions of false love. I recently spoke to a middle aged man who said he needs to shop incessantly, since the giving to him of stuff was the only way his mother was "kind" to him as a boy. People often give tangible items when they can't give what others really need to receive; the intangible. That is the root of our own adult shopping habits with ourselves. We buy all sorts of unneeded crap for the same reason; to give ourselves the tangible SINCE WE CAN'T GIVE OURSELVES THE INTANGIBLE. I put that in caps so you'll pay careful attention. Instead of filling our days with searching for self love, acceptance, growth, and the scariest of all; what we need to CHANGE, we run to a store. Adults fill their carts and baskets with empty objects instead of taking time to observe those patterns. It is hands down a means of deflection and distraction from filling out spiritual baskets and emotional carts.

I once read a brilliant line in an article. I think it was one of the Ephron sisters. She wrote of her unhealthy marriage like this, "we filled the gaps in our marriage with things". That line  struck me in its truth and honesty. Cars, clothes, redecorating, purses, artwork.  "We bought this together" or "he bought this for me".  Sure, acquiring mementos together on a trip or a sentimental gift is lovely. We all love genuine tokens of love and affection. But I suspect the root of much of that giving doesn't come from a pure well of the desire to just give. To give in the unconditional sense. Because real, pure giving doesn't rely on materialism.  It just doesn't.  Someone who is certain how deeply loved they are, be it by themselves or another, doesn't need a bracelet to prove that.  I once spoke to a woman who went to five different supermarkets a week. She bought different items in each store. She wasn't in the best of health, so I asked her why doesn't she go to one store and make her life easier? She knew why. She said, "without this I would have nothing to do." That made me so sad. How we start off on this planet, full of potential and possibility, and can so easily wind up directionless, having no idea what the hell to do with our precious time. Days wasted shopping, running, returning, pretending to be busy until it's carpool time, dinner time, or our show comes on. By the way, the supermarket woman died a few years later. Think about that.

I was never an incessant shopper, but the few times I did go I'd buy a lot. Too much. Purchasing these items made me "happy". Look what I did today; I got these gorgeous shoes to wear to the next upcoming bar mitzvah. Buying all sorts of crap for the house, the kids. It doesn't have to be Gucci; Bed Bath and Beyond can be just as much of an addiction. Basically, we are addicted to distracting ourselves from a myriad of serious, heavy shit that is begging for our attention and awareness. I knew I was done with this phase in my life when I went to Italy last summer. The Italian airport is famous for its huge collection of duty free designer shops. I didn't glance at them; I had no interest. None. I bought a beautiful apron with lemons and Italian words, as a memento from my trip. I love aprons, I always wear them. I bought the same one for S, who also loves them. The lemon apron has become one of our special things. It makes us smile. That's all I wanted from my trip. As I continue to unload the need for the physical, I am indeed lighter and cleaner. I'm not being penalized for overweight in the metaphorical sense. Lighten your load. The more you eliminate from your life, the more shelves you clear out for what matters. I promise it works. If you're addicted to stuff, don't judge yourself. Go over your need for these patterns, like you would a credit card statement. Study yourself, learn about yourself, and go return what you don't need. I mean emotionally. Give back fear, emptiness, sadness, boredom, and anxiety. And go acquire what you really need and want. You don't need me to tell you what that is; you already know. And I know you know these answers aren't found in a pair of shoes.   

Always Yours, Lady Blaga