I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but not having a laptop is kind of nice. Not only is my backpack lighter, but I no longer have to worry about setting it down too hard. And if it got stolen now, it wouldn’t matter to me nearly as much as it would have were my laptop in it. Shortly after I bought my camcorder I started worrying about it getting stolen or broken. Maybe I’m a worrywart. Probably not. Regardless, however, the more stuff you have, the more you have to take care of.
It’s an inner battle. Part of me wants more cool gadgets — it comes with being a geek, I think :) — and that’s why I have an iPod, a laptop, a graphics tablet, and a camcorder. And yet another part of me yearns for simplicity. That part of me is gaining ground and respect, primarily because it feels right and good, like a cold drink of water on a blistering summer day at noon.
Besides, materialism is generally bad. It’s easy to get caught up in thinking that things matter, but they don’t. Kindness matters. Peace matters. Love matters. Sacrifice matters. Possessions don’t. The further detached I get from my belongings, the better I feel, the more at-one with goodness. If I care more about my computer than I do about my family or my friends, something’s wrong. Seriously wrong.
But there are of course belongings that matter: journals, family pictures and scrapbooks, writings and paintings and other creative efforts, and other things that come from within us. Those do matter. But the SUV outside, the nice new drapes for the windows, the 90″ entertainment center with full surround sound — when all is said and done, they’re not going to make a whit of difference. Yes, things are nice, and I’m certainly not arguing that we should all drop to a third-world standard of living, but it’s all too easy to make them become our object of existence.
I honestly envy those who can pack their whole life into a backpack or two. Really.
[tags]materialism[/tags]
Comments
Those are some interesting thoughts. Materialism is a senstive, and messy issue in the gospel. I’ve often found the solution for others, but never for myself. Personally I wonder if I won’t be ashamed when this life is over for all the things I have simply consumed for myself with such little graditude. If you haven’t already read it, I think you would like “Zion, A Distant View” by Hugh Nibley.
My goals this summer are to declutter my life (especially my room) and learn how to manage my finances. Even if that’s the only thing I accomplish, I’ll be satisfied. The less I buy (unless the things are books — I have to make an exception for books), the better off I’ll be. And the more money I save, the more I’ll be able to put into a book account. And then I can visit the used bookstore more often. Mmm. :) But I mainly want to save, save, save. I’ll be happy when the vast abyss in my bank account becomes a majestic mountain. Not so I can be rich, of course — I couldn’t care less — but because I’ll be able to provide for my future family better and because I’ll be able to give money and aid to people. That’s the main reason why I want to avoid debt: to be able to help other people. You can’t help someone out when you’re waist-deep in quicksand.
I love how instead of a “bank” account, you’re saving money to put in a “book” account. Most things (other than books) loose their enchantment quickly after purchase, I wonder why I even buy them. Sometimes it seems overwhelming how expensive life can be, even if one is living simply. I’m going to be putting my money into a roth IRA, because it’s a way to save, get good returns, but have accessible money if I need it.
I wish I could give advice for living simply, every time I try, I simply find myself to be trapped and tied down to my way of life. I admire you for beginning to climb out of yours.
It’s true — many things sparkle and glimmer until the day after you buy them, and then they seem dead, leaving a hollow spot inside where before there was a craving. I remember one time when I was much younger, longing for a book on game programming (I’m glad to report I grew out of that phase several years ago :)). After a little while (too short of a time, actually) I saved up my money and bought it, and when I got home I found an awful empty feeling inside me, almost sick. So I returned the book to the store the next day. (It wasn’t a “bad” book or anything like that, but it wasn’t what I expected it to be at all.)
Anyway, this less-is-more philosophy is really growing on me. It feels right and good and beautiful. Sure, it means changing the way I’ve been doing things, but that’s okay. I’m in this to become a better person, not to cling to the status quo. (Though it is really hard to change sometimes, even when you know it’s right and really want it. That’s why I still haven’t saved up any money, even though I’ve felt this way for quite some time. ~sigh~)
Throw in your two cents