“God please protect me from what I want.”
I thought of this expression on a recent visit to the shopping mecca, Santa Fe, New Mexico when I realized I was not suffering from the “I want” syndrome. Full disclosure: I love shopping for clothes, jewelry, purses, shoes, hats and art. And Santa Fe fashions have a distinctive style that I have embraced and succumbed to over the years on various visits to this high desert paradise.
What was different about this trip was that I realized that I was perfectly happy with what I already have in my clothes closet and jewelry boxes. I have the perfect Indian style necklace, beads, silver and turquoise earrings, Concho belt, boots and velvet skirts. I said to myself, “I have enough,” and felt blessedly sated. For those of you who aren’t shoppers or don’t suffer from “never enough” syndrome, you may not recognize the triumph of this moment. For me, walking around a place filled with beautiful shops and galleries knowing I can look at it, enjoy and not want a thing is positively amazing.
For years, I have kept myself out of debtor’s prison, or to be more precise, high interest insanity, by practicing something that I call “psychic shopping.” I simply pretend to buy things that catch my eye. I imagine myself entering a store, selecting objects, trying them on and making purchases. I have been known to spend over a hundred thousand dollars on some of my “psychic shopping” sprees. Once, I even psychically returned something even though I didn’t actually buy it. What was important about taking this game to the next level was the awareness that I had returned it knowing I wouldn’t use and didn’t even want it. This time in Santa Fe I didn’t even psychic shop; I simply didn’t want it.
Just when I was feeling a little smug and hoping this attitude and practice will follow me to other parts of the country and around the globe, I noticed what I was wearing. I had to literally bust myself and reconsider what I had just written. For you see, before the trip to Santa Fe I saw a jacket that looked like an Indian blanket, and anticipating the upcoming trip and speaking engagement, I simply HAD to have it. I looked up and noticed that it matched the décor in my room perfectly. As I was laughing at myself (always a good practice), I began to doubt the strength of my long-term shopping sobriety. Instead, I was grateful for the respite. For those of you who can relate to this post, try “psychic shopping.” It is easy on the wallet and actually quite fun.
