“And then we’re going to run to Target.” I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve uttered this phrase in my adult life, especially since becoming a mom. Most of these trips to Target probably weren’t made with a list in mind. I went to Target for something to do.
I wish I could say that I can’t tell you what I used to buy on all those Target runs but I have a pretty decent recollection. I can tell you that for the last few years during the winter months I’ve easily bought a fifteen dollar candle every week or two. I bought clothes that I didn’t especially love and often never wore. I bought new sheets and comforters because I’d grown bored with the perfectly fine bedding I already had. I bought decorative pillows that for a long time nobody was allowed to use and that we now all throw on the floor before sitting on the sofa—is that why they call them throw pillows?
I can also tell you that I don’t miss buying any of this crap. It seems insane to me now that I ever thought buying the “right” comforter or throw pillow would bring me lasting joy. I spent a lot of time shopping to fill a void and I filled that void with lots of shit I didn’t need.
We officially began our journey to financial independence on January 1, 2020. The most obvious first step towards saving more for early retirement was to spend drastically less—we needed to stop buying shit.
Embarking on this journey I was nervous about feeling deprived. I have heard stories of other FIRE community members falling into a deep depression and feeling like they’d given up too much. I read stories of people losing friendships or being excluded from social outings and get-togethers. The path to financial independence sounded like a lonely one.
We are only two months in, but so far have experienced the exact opposite. Instead of feeling deprived we are feeling an abundance of joy. I don’t miss strolling the aisles of Target. I don’t miss the thrill I used to get hitting the “add to cart” button on Amazon. I don’t even miss the rush of stalking the mailman as I waited for my packages to be delivered.
Instead, I feel a sense of overwhelming peace and gratitude for what I already do have and for the people I am fortunate enough to share my life with. Not buying shit has made us value our time, our most precious non-renewable resource, and invest it in our relationships. We have come to value presence over presents. It is amazing how the changes we have made have changed us.
In the way that Mari Kondo asks you to examine each object in your home and ask, “does this spark joy?”, we have applied that practice to the way we spend our money. Though we want to be frugal and save money wherever we can, we also want to support our community.
We could save a few dollars by buying a board game (a future investment in quality family time) from Amazon, but we get so much more joy out stepping out on a sunny day and enjoying the two mile walk down to our local game store. When we make a purchase there, the owner knows us, our favorite games, and always has great input into what we should buy next.
Now that I know we will be buying less moving forward, I find a genuine joy in taking care of what we already own. Cleaning the stove takes on more meaning. Scrubbing the soles of my sneakers and making them look new has become profoundly satisfying. Can you even imagine finding deep happiness in scrubbing mud from the bottom of your shoes? That is the life-changing magic of not buying shit.
When you focus on what you have rather than what you want, you become a much happier person. I think that we dedicated a tremendous amount of mental capacity to planning future purchases, and now that those purchases are off the table, we are simply planning the future. We spend less time thinking about what we don’t have, and more time enjoying what we do have. We spend less energy worrying about things and more energy creating ideas.
