We are obsessed with stuff.
Stuff defined as physical objects. I’m talking about the things that we don’t need for survival, but like to have around for comfort: the outfit we need to make the right impression, that gadget with one purpose, the storage container for other stuff.
Our culture suggests that we will be happier if we have more stuff. American culture is based on marketing things. The entire country is one big ad for more. Buy more stuff, it’s the American way. Oh, and compared to other countries, we have bigger stuff!
We’re told that stuff will help us solve a problem. If we just buy that one thing, life will be easier. If we just save time by using this gadget, our lives will change forever. We’ll have so much more time. And time is money, right? So in a way, we’re saving money.
We’re often sold stuff out of fear. If we don’t buy this thing right now, there might be at time where we need it and don’t have it. We may be unprepared for something, and being unprepared would be uncomfortable. We could be scared, or even hurt, if we’re without that thing. If we just had the right stuff, we wouldn’t have to ever feel scared, surprised, or confused.
We’re often coerced into buying stuff based on scarcity. Price drop! Limited quantity! The algorithm only shows it to you once! Once-in-a-lifetime drop! Special promotion! Black Friday, Cyber Monday, Memorial Day, Valentine’s Day - unique sale!
So we acquire our stuff, and it gives us that nice hit of satisfaction, and the elation of “just delivered” —the system of distractions. We’re saving time, feeling secure, and saving money. And, the whole process gave us something to do.
But what’s really happening?
Emotionally, we’re using objects - and the chase - as surrogates for our emotions
Physically, we’re letting objects give us purpose and the illusion that we’re in control of something
Let’s go deeper.
On the emotional side, we are buying things to give us that dopamine hit; we’re outsourcing our emotions. The thrill of the search, the satisfaction of the deal, the pride of the object’s display. These are all surrogates for emotions that already live inside of us. We’re relying on objects outside of us to ignite something within us.
Until we pause to understand this system of high-and-low, catch-and-release, we’ll be trapped in it forever. We’ll be in a constant pattern of supplementing our internal, emotional cravings with the manufactured joyride of big-box variety, online sales, and niche trinkets.
This is where getting honest with your emotions comes in. What are these actions telling us? What is your internal system trying to say? What is your subconscious begging to express?
There’s work to be done here, but only if you thoughtfully and honestly look at your emotions, your trauma, your core beliefs, and your patterns. Without complete and total reflection behind constant consumption, the systems will consume you, but only if you let them.
On the physical side, stuff is a great way to spend our time. It starts with the hunt, where we have to find the exact thing we’re looking for. We use alerts. We use notifications. We search. And search. And search. Until we finally find what we’re looking for.
We second-screen the whole experience, too: scrolling while watching TV, incessant searching while “working,” and scrambling to grab our phones off the dinner table because we finally got the notification.
One we receive our stuff, our lives can finally change. Now we can save time, make life easier, and enjoy “the moment” more. By having these things, we can restore our joy. We earned this joy, because we spent so much time and effort procuring it.
After all, we’re doing all of this for happiness and contentment, right?
So now that we’re happy and our stuff has given its value, and our time was well-spent, what do we do with it? We buy more stuff.
We buy stuff to hold our stuff: storage bins, organizers, catalogs, cars, storage units.
We spend more time moving our stuff. From closet to closet, from bedroom to basement, from car to attic, from inside to outside, from infinity to infinity. Moving stuff, “dealing” with stuff, and organizing our stuff has turned into a full-time hobby. Packing stuff to go places. It’s how we spend our time.
Stuff is a distraction.
We’ll buy anything to feel something. To feel is to be human, and we have been taught to outsource our humanity because it’s easier. It’s less painful. Less risk.
Life is experiencing every emotion: good, bad, everything in between. And at a young age, we’re taught to hide or mitigate the emotions that aren’t comfortable. We get into a system of distraction so we never have to actually face what may be stirring within us.
We spend our time staying busy by finding stuff and managing stuff. We spend all of that “saved” time on surface-level distractions to feel productive. To feel in control.
To be busy is to be occupied, and to be occupied is to put your attention on something other than your own thoughts and emotions.
But the real distraction is that we are in control. We are not. Our stuff controls us.
Our human experience is to feel. Every. Single. Emotion. And just because we we feel something once, it doesn’t get to define us. It’s ok to feel it, and let it pass. It’s ok to hold onto it if we like it.
But sometimes we don’t do this processing, and those strange emotions get trapped. Trapped in our nervous system, trapped in our fears, trapped in what we believe is (and was) real.
So we hold onto those strange emotions. And whether we know it or not (usually not), they stick with us. They linger in the background (usually subconsciously). And because we can’t identity them directly, but can feel them at some level, we start searching for the antidote: something to lift us up. Something satisfying. And we have so many immediate options just waiting to be found, purchased, and managed. We never stood a chance.
The stuff conundrum is a complicated web of systems. A web made of modern conveniences like sophisticated algorithms, frictionless technology, and immediate delivery. It preys on our cultural ambition to find happiness, experience joy, and feel rewarded for our hard work.
It’s a physical and emotional web that catches you so fast, you don’t even know you’re in it. But our agency as humans is stronger than system of stuff: our will, our introspection, and our consciousness, our emotions are already inside of us.
If you’re willing to be in control of yourself—and not your stuff—then tap into your heart, emotions, thoughts, and soul.
It may not be easy, but it’s how you jump out.
💬 If this sparked something in you—don’t let it sit in your head.
Tell me what landed. Tell me what cracked open.
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I work with creative leaders and soulful professionals ready to jump out of the system — and into something more human, more powerful, more you.