Every Thursday in my environmental management class, we have a discussion. This week, Henry David Thoreau’s “Where I Lived and What I Lived For” was our reading, and the entire time, I couldn’t help but think of the fact that I have never had an original thought in my entire life. 

The six pages of this chapter of Walden reminded me of every time I have been deep in the woods camping with friends, on top of a mountain or at a lookout point thinking, “this is all I have ever needed and wanted.” 

The core theme of this chapter was to intentionally live, to “live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover I had not lived.” 

Reading this chapter of Walden made me realize the man hated overconsumption and would be rolling in his grave at the thought of same-day delivery from Amazon, and it got me thinking: when did we become so obsessed with stuff? 

Just a Whole Bunch of Stuff

Nearly every week there is a new trending item that the viewers must get. Skincare, makeup, trinkets, squishies, tumblers, shoes. You name it; if it is being brought up by an influencer on multiple platforms, chances are those TikTok Shop carts are going to be loaded with the product.  

Microtrend traps are at the core of this seemingly never-ending need for stuff. Instead of finding one product that we love and using it until it’s empty, worn out, or no longer serves us, our shelves are lined with products. And we never throw it out because it is basically throwing away $50.

Trust me, I too have fallen prey to impulsive buying to reach the satisfaction that a little money spent gives. Whether it is the excitement of opening a package or finally getting your hands on something you have seen all over social media, the feeling is still there. But just as quickly, that item is out, and there is a new and better thing to get your hands on.

The Art of Wanting Less

Since Thoreau was the inspiration for all of this, I want to reflect on how he impacted me to start intentionally living. I have backpacked hundreds of miles through the trails of Colorado with all I needed for a week in a 65-liter pack. Everything down to the socks I wore on my feet was chosen with the intention to get me by. 

Sure, wanting more will always be a satisfaction I can later feed, but there is something incredibly humbling about carrying everything you need for several days on your back. Suddenly, all the extra things I surrounded myself with at home become irrelevant. I have taken this mindset with me back home and have tried to be sure that the things around me serve a true purpose rather than buying something because it is either trendy or comes with the expectation that it is supposed to make me happy.

Since then, I have put this practice in the smaller parts of my everyday life. I have two water bottles that I rotate between, a skincare routine that has been narrowed down to four products, and a closet full of clothes that have lasted me years. When I do buy something new, I try to prioritize quality over quantity. I have also developed a habit of leaving things in my online shopping cart for a while before actually buying them. If I’m still thinking about it a few days later, it may be worth considering. And if I completely forget about it, well, I probably did not need it in the first place. 

Of course, this is all easier said than done. I have actively avoided doomscrolling the newest and trendiest items because, frankly, FOMO will be the death of me. 

Maybe living deliberately doesn’t mean abandoning the things we enjoy or refusing to participate in the world around us. I certainly do not plan on giving up my trips to T.J. Maxx or HomeGoods anytime soon. But I would like to be a little more intentional about what I bring into my life. 

• consumerism
• health
• materialism
• mental health
• outdoors