products vs. processes and the myth of infinite consumption

Odds are if you've spent some time around me you've heard me rant about the process-oriented nature of human beings and how stupid consumerism is.

Now, if there's one thing that I can't get behind, it's people who stand up on soap boxes and preach at you while not acknowledging their own participation and complacency in the very systems they are criticizing. So allow me to make the following disclaimer:

DISCLAIMER: I fully acknowledge that I benefit from capitalist, consumerist society. I enjoy it, to a degree. Most mornings I buy a coffee from Cafe Plenty. I really like to go out to eat. Once or twice a year I buy shoes that are made in China or some other low-income country where individuals are being exploited. Sometimes I buy things I don't need.

*exhale*

There. Now that I've got that out of the way...

We all have an ache inside of us. Well, I say 'We all.' What I mean to say is that, I suspect that here in the developed world, many of us, especially us younger gens, have an ache, an emptiness inside of us. An itch that can't be scratched. Why else would we sanctify notions like fulfillment, unless we experienced some sort of emptiness? What is fulfillment without a certain space to be filled? I feel it; the drive to improve, the yearning for love, for happiness. The deep, desperate desire to live a good life, a passionate life.

I'd hazard a guess that you feel it, too. Even just sometimes, when you're alone with your thoughts, trying to fall asleep, thinking, "What am I doing? What's it all for? What would I do if I could just drop everything right now and attend to this emptiness inside of me?" It's something existentialists and philosophers have been mulling over for years.

What is this emptiness? I believe that it stems from the knowledge that we have limited time. It's the ever-present implicit knowledge of our impending death. I know, a bit melodramatic. But in all seriousness. We are all painfully aware, at all times, in the darkest recesses of our minds, that time is running out, so we'd damn well better make the most of it. We'd better find love, fulfillment, acceptance, fun, happiness, comfort, passion, all those things that we long for and strive for, the end to all of our actions. Because time is running out.

I believe that human beings are fundamentally process-oriented. We are most fulfilled by processes. What do I mean by processes? Well, I mean anything that unfolds over time. A walk in the forest. A conversation with a friend. Enjoying a favourite meal. Listening to music. Swimming naked in a cool lake. Creating or appreciating art. Making love. Processes.

But the thing is, processes are hard. They require a certain amount of energy and dedication - some more than others. And many of them, the more social ones in particular, require being a warm and caring person around whom people would want to spend their time. It's hard.

Products, on the other hand, are easy. What's easier than going out and buying something? Assuming that you have the capital, of course (whether that comes from working two minimum wage jobs at 60 hours a week or having it handed to you because of your socioeconomic status). It's just so easy to go out to a store and buy something, even if you don't need it.

Advertisers and corporations, I think, pick up on this. They know that we're process-oriented beings, but that processes are harder to get at, and a hell of a lot harder to sell. So they disguise products as processes. You're not buying the makeup, you're buying the self confidence that the model exudes when that handsome man gives her the eye. You're not buying the car, you're buying the winding miles of driving down empty coastal highway. You're not buying the shirt, you're buying the approval, regard, and envy of your peers. Products disguised as processes.

So we try to fill this process-shaped hole inside of ourselves with products. And when that doesn't work, what do we do? Buy more products, of course.

And so the myth of infinite consumption is created. But the real myth is that we'll have enough stuff so that somehow, someday, we'll be happy. We'll have the big house, the cottage, the three cars, the massive entertainment system, the designer clothes, etc. etc. etc. etc. until we die, surrounded by all of our stuff.

And not only does this lead to extreme alienation and unfulfillment, but it harms our planet. Because hot damn, that new iPhone 7 is out and I need it in order to (insert process here) so I'll just chuck my iPhones 1 through 6 into the nearest landfill. I'll just throw these old products away. But, as we know, when it comes to our planet, there's no such thing as 'away.'

This is something that I have come to realize. This is why my phone looks like it's made out of lego. This is why I try not to buy products (unless they're absolutely hand-made, like the bracelet I got in Costa Rica, or if I absolutely need them, like winter boots). This is why I spend a the majority of my paycheques on concerts, meals with friends, and travel. I'm not saying that I am a perfect person - goodness knows I could do without most of the things I have, and sometimes I do slip up and make unnecessary purchases. But I'm trying.

Next time you feel that hole opening up inside of your soul, ask yourself if it's really product-shaped. Because I have a feeling that we're all being tricked into denying our process-oriented nature, to the detriment of our minds, spirits, and planet.