Blessings, beautiful souls,
I find I am buying a lot less, recently.
They say happy people consume less, and I am certainly at the happiest I’ve ever felt. I still have my passions sitting in my heart, but I don’t have the time for them right now (and that’s okay), and I certainly have no desire to spend more on them.
I went through a short Pokémon phase recently, a nostalgic love from my youth that gave me a little joy outside my everyday mommy duties, but it faded quickly when I realized it couldn’t really be enjoyed without spending money. And I didn’t want to, because joy shouldn’t require ongoing spending. Capitalism often trains us to confuse interest with investment.
As of late, I have no desire to spend on myself at all. An influx of things – when I already have so much – who needs it? This isn’t some great sense of martyrdom or monk-like self-denial; with fewer purchases, there are fewer external identities to nurture and maintain. When the inner Self is fulfilled, the urge to fill up the external dissipates.
That being said, I write this on Christmas, and my children were certainly spoiled. I made an effort to get most (90%) of my gifts secondhand – last year, I did my shopping in a physical thrift shop but this year, being further away from it, I did most of my Christmas shopping on Vinted. But I still got them things: lots of things.
In many ways, I am aware that I am also tending to my own inner child through them. Watching their excitement, their wonder, their joy at unwrapping something new stirs a part of my spirit. Yet alongside this is a quiet knowing that the things themselves are not what nourishes them — or me. Objects are symbols, not sources. They carry meaning only because love animates them. Without presence, they are quickly forgotten; without connection – me, putting all of myself into the magic and excitement of Christmas – they are meaningless.
This is where discernment begins to replace consumption. I am learning to ask not “How much?” but “From where?” Is this purchase born from love or from fear? From celebration or from habit? From presence or from an inherited script that says joy must be proven materially? Does the world of distraction encourage me to buy, or am I doing this with grounded intention? I do not wish to deprive my children of the delight of Christmas and unwrapping gifts, but I also do not wish to teach them that Abundance arrives only in the form of accumulation. Though money (and what it buys) is a form of energy and Abundance which everyone deserves.
But, I digress. Let me return to my own consumption for a moment.
Perhaps my distance from consumption is related to the season of life I am currently in, one that requires stillness, surrender, and an abandonment of many aspects of myself. I’m not resisting the desire to spend; it just hasn’t arisen in me. Consumption fills a temporal gap, but I’m currently satisfied with the direction of my inner life, and this external gap closes in the process. I believe non-attachment plays a large part in this.
Non-attachment didn’t make me completely detach from the external world and its offerings, it just made me more selective and discerning of what I really need versus what I want. When I really sit with the want rather than jumping on a compulsive wave, I hear my inner voice say, “We don’t really want this at all.”
I used to fill my life with things in my 20s. So many things. So much dust. I was so empty, and I sought to fill the emptiness with things. This happened again during COVID, a spiritually distorted time for the planet Earth and myself. But once I became a parent, priorities shifted, my heart was full like it never was before. With it, the need for things dissipated. My identity (and purpose) stabilized internally, and my urge to fill the external world with things dissipated.
Even spiritual purchases have quelled. I like certain items that assist my spiritual grounding and focus, I like specific things that assist in my rituals, healing, and clearing, but I buy those with the wisdom that I don’t need them to be spiritual. They are also a want, and lately, more times than not, my inner voice says, “We don’t need it.” How quickly desire dissolves when you don’t feed it!
This season of less and non-attachment to things is not something I am actively trying to preserve or protect. I don’t see it as a moral victory, nor do I imagine it will last forever. Seasons change, desires return, wants flourish, and when it does, I know I’ll be more discerning – especially now that I’ve tasted the peace that comes with wanting less and buying less.
Abundance is not proven by what I accumulate, but by how deeply I inhabit my life as it is, how fulfilled I am in my inner world. Perhaps this is what non-attachment looks like in practice; not the rejection of the material world, but a relaxed grip on it. A willingness to let things come and go without confusing them for fulfillment. A quiet confidence that nothing essential is missing.
And in that knowing, I find I need very little at all.
If you want to support my work further, please check out my books and journals. If you want to work with me as a spiritual healer, check out my services through Seeking Celestial Grace and Awakened Little Souls.
xx C
lifeofcloud 