Confessions of a Consumer

Things are in the saddle and ride mankind

-Ralph Waldo Emerson, Ode to W.H. Auden

I've always known there was a lot more to life than things.
I've never considered myself much of a materialist, but lately I have had to come to grips with the reality that I just have way too much stuff.  Not only stuff, but services, some of which go with the stuff, some of which are stand alone things.  Michele was talking about her grandfather this morning; how he would pay cash for almost everything (even cars, which is hard for me to imagine) and probably didn't even have a credit card.
I considered the fact that tomorrow morning I am going to speak with an accountant because, with a mortgage and taxes and all sorts of new, complicated financial realities, I feel ill equipped to cope.  I need professional help in dealing with the money I make and spend and what I owe to the government.  being a grown up is hard a lot of the time.
I started thinking about how much money we spend in a month, I didn't want to, I just did.
I started thinking about how a good chunk of the money goes simply to try and buy some sense of security for all the stuff I own: health insurance, car insurance, life insurance, now homeowners insurance.
Insurance didn't used to be a thing that your average, ordinary person had.  These days it would be stupid and in some cases illegal to do without it.
Probably because we have so much stuff that we "can't live without."
I also "can't live without" a cell phone, high speed internet and 400 TV channels (with HD), even though, for most of my life I lived without all those things (funny how necessity just seems to creep up on you).  I realized that I send more dollars to Verizon every month than people in some parts of the world earn in a year, and that doesn't make me feel very good. We are decidedly middle of the road when it comes to material wealth.  We don't just throw money around and we try to live within our means, but because I live in a nation that consumes way more than a decent share of the world's resources on a per-capita level, I know I need to periodically take stock of what I have in order to get some perspective.
That perspective can be sobering, and depressing.
It doesn't do any good to feel guilty about it (but I do anyway).
I begin to see that when Jesus told that rich young ruler to give away everything he had, he wasn't just being a jerk, he was trying to save that guy from his stuff.  Stuff can get a good strong grip on you, and it doesn't like to let go.  That man didn't have to give away everything in order to follow Jesus, he needed to give away everything in order to be free from a trap.
Before Michele starts to hyperventilate, I'm not planning on selling everything and dropping out of society.  Sometimes you just need to contemplate the possibility of such a radical step, and think about how much you want and what you actually need.  The thing is, most of the time, you get those two categories terribly, inextricably confused.
In a few months, I am going to be walking away from most of my stuff, at least for a week or so.  I am very much looking forward to that.  But I have already started to make a list of things I need for my walk on the Camino de Santiago.  Believe me, the irony of buying fancy gear to take on pilgrimage is not lost on me, but somehow or other, I can't help myself.  I NEED those new boots, I NEED those fancy hiking pants with zip off legs, I need a solar charger for my cell phone... dear LORD please have mercy on this sinner.