Any of you who might know me personally (and even professionally) will likely already recognize that I love beautiful things. I covet beautiful things, in fact. You may perhaps know already that I have always had a relatively unrelenting drive towards beautiful and lovely objects, be they fashion or paintings or house-related things, or the finely tuned artistry of german automobiles. This drive results in me being oft to be found on various websites (pinterest is the devil, and ebay is his evil consort), wasting time whilst I daydream of all the material things I may one day surround myself with.
I don't like beautiful junk, however, and don't seek to satisfy my taste for beauty with the poorly constructed garbage that one might find and call beautiful in the aisles of, say, Walmart. I want true artistry and quality, and am happy to pay for it.
But the reality still stands that I have been, historically, a great consumer of things. A great wanter of things as well.
However, something very bizarre has happened to my head in the last few months, and I can't quite fully understand what it is. I suppose this insidious symptom has likely come on over longer than that time (especially if I compare my current state of consumption to that which I experienced in my 20's, at the heyday of feeling lost and confused and devouring the world around me in an attempt to pacify my own sadness..), but for some reason in the last six months (we'll say) it has become particularly strong. It could be called as much a 'loss' of symptom as a newly appearing one however, because the main manifestation is that I, rather bizarrely, don't want anything.
I still spend time in the mornings perusing the fine offerings of the devil, reposting those images and objects that strike me as particularly moving, but that action is taken not in a desperate plea of I WANT or I WISH FOR, but a somewhat passive acknowledgement of some neat things that humans are doing. Cause the weird thing now is that even as I'm looking at these nice new shoes and jewelry and beautiful homes I really don't want them. Could care less, in fact, and this is even as my favorite pants have become threadbare and unsewable in many places, and winter approaches with only last year's previously covetous coat to enrobe myself with (*gasp*). I don't want anything. Me. Ciel, the great wanter, who now wants none. What is this madness?
All I see when I look at new and beautiful things now is garbage. Not garbage as the previously mentioned crap from Walmart might be garbage, but the realization that all things--be they beautifully made or otherwise--will end up one day choking the life out of our planetary system, just like everything else. That all my beautiful things will fall apart and end up in a landfill or an ocean. This is coupled with a simultaneous awareness of the resources and energy that it took to make that beautiful thing in the first place, and with these two perspectives I become paralyzed at the thought of buying new things.
Now, this is not to say that I won't or can't eventually purchase clothes (or other lovely things), as one does need to dress oneself in this culture, logically, and likely would like something to sit on in their house. But it's just this crazy experience for me to desire so little--to be happy with what I've got, basically--and to want more than anything to be increasingly happier with increasingly less. I finally get (in a big way) the desire to live in a tiny house in the woods and never again be bothered by the angst associated with not owning a pair of knee high frye boots. I like this way of being.
Consumption--mindless, irrational and pain-driven consumption--defines our contemporary world. It is the cancerous physical manifestation of a fear-based and wholly unsatisfied collective human psyche, acting as we furiously set about (in futility) attempting to fill the whole within us with the next new thing or food or person or job or whatever. In the absence of this need for completion--when we KNOW who we are, and just how wonderful we are to the whole of existence--then there are no holes to patch up, and we may instead (ever so beautifully) become engaged with the act and practice of sharing experience and marveling at the wonders of the world, things far too beautiful and spectacular that have been passing beneath our consuming noses completely unnoticed as of late.
You will always consume, but to ask ourselves why and how much and what for we are buying all this shit for is essential. Basically: let's not be cancer cells, and learn (or remember) how to live within this system intelligently once again.
Please love yourself and stop buying stuff. You don't need it, and the planet (and everything else on the planet) needs you to cut it out.