A New Focus

I was finding myself being pulled into the vortex of suburbia. Expensive rubbish at Pottery Barn, the newest J.Crew catalog, Target, and late model vehicles were beginning to define my existence, and still do to an extent.  The most frightening aspect is that the more I acquire, the more a want.  I am left without the feeling of satisfaction as defined by material items. 

 

Even though I am happiest when Clay and I are side-by-side, sans TV, holding an oversized glass of wine, and just talking; I can’t help but experience a fleeting high while browsing through the aisles of TJ Maxx Homegoods.  There is something about buying a name brand item at a discount price that sends me into euphoria.   Stainless steel appliances (large and small) make me giddy, Kate Spade sends me over the moon, and a Volvo S40 (red) makes me weak in the knees.  I treasure my double grande nonfat lattes from Starbucks and enjoy eating at Panera Bread before shopping at Macy’s.   

 

I am alarmed at the commercialization of life that led our society to difficult economic times.  Greed, poor decisions, and corruption at every level of consumption are overwhelming the financial structure to which we have grown accustomed.  I’d like to report that my habits have changed and I have clarity with a side of peace of mind but….no.

 

We’re changing though.  Clay and I are cooking more, eating out less.  We’re watching less TV, reading more books; spending less time sitting in cars, more time walking with Lucy; you know, experiencing life outside of consumer marketing.  We’re desperately trying to avoid the cliché our lives must look to those on the outside: Happily married twenty-somethings, dog, cat, 4 bedroom, 2.5 bath, double-income, no kids, consuming machines.  Our life together is changing for the better.  I am learning what makes me content, peaceful, and satisfied.  A work-in-progress if you will, we’re learning and reveling in the simple pleasures. 

 

You may find this blog turning into a chronicle of (somewhat) simple living as we journey through the mucky consumer path rather than a straightforward record of events.  We’re starting small. For example, this year we’re incorporating homemade Christmas gifts into our giving list and really trying to focus on the true meaning of the season.   However, I am in no way immune to powerful marketing ploys. I am eying a Panini press, iPod touch arm band, and a milk frother.   After all, how can I possibly survive suburbia without a milk frother?