Consumption of Things and Food

Last year I took a vow to limit my shopping to the purchases of books, art supplies, and clothing for homeless people. And of course, I bought food in all its many forms. I kept my vow, with a few exceptions: a computer when my laptop died, a backpack and lightweight, quick-drying clothes for a pilgrimage on the Camino, and the pair of green boots that leapt into my hands at the Goodwill. (If you haven’t already, read about my green boots — which I so love wearing after they spent last year in my attic.)

Some people need to allow themselves to want and have more in their lives. For me, limiting my spending taught me so much more than I can describe. It helped me cultivate more feeling of both having and being enough. As with all “-isms,” I was unaware of how insidious consumerism is within me. Taking a break from it calmed an underlying, insatiable need to have more, have better, and have different. Taking a break affirmed that I can be satisfied with things just as they are, as well as with myself, in all my imperfection.

My jeans taught me that I anticipated needs before they arise. Throughout the year, I imagined my jeans were about to rip when, in fact, they are still fine to wear. Without the vow, I would have bought a new pair six months ago. Responding too quickly to my needs keeps me from discerning what is a true need and what is an idea of a need or a fleeting whim.

Ethel and Lucy in the chocolate factory.

Source: Used with permission.

This year I’ve made a vow to become more aware of another (and even more challenging) consumption: food. I was anxious about not buying things, but I was able to change my behavior. I’m approaching my consumption of food with the hope of becoming more aware of how often I turn to food for solace, nurturance, distraction, pleasure, etc. Changing my behavior toward food is daunting. Money, things, and food are all intertwined, and though my behaviors with each differ, at the core of each of them, I bring a sense of scarcity, a fear of going without. I welcome the deeper questioning of the hidden and habitual places in my psyche these vows provide.