Category: consumerism (Page 3 of 4)

here, try this: you’ll loooooooove this (all for $19.99)

While taking a hiatus from buying, I’m more prone to notice how often someone wants to sell me something. Every morning my inbox fills with at least 15 offers to save money by making a purchase. This is not a new trend for Lent; I’ve received them for some time. However, they have a different feel when you automatically delete without finding out what Zulily has on special that day – you might be missing an amazing deal on snow boots or swimsuits, you know. 

Another place that I’m more aware of being seen as a customer is in the bloggy world. I subscribe to a large number of blogs about everything from education to moms in LA (because my life is SO similar) to food and, especially now, grain-free recipes. I even follow one that tends to be an end-of-the-world-er, but he’s got so much great information on gardening, composting and living self-sufficiently. 
However, most of these bloggers are hopeful to make a buck while they put their time into it, so they have conferences to promote, ebooks to discount, even product giveaways to earn loyalty. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for these writers and small business owners making their living doing what they do; however, I’m aware I’m not just a reader anymore. I’m in the pool of consumers. 
One blog in particular (that I love) is geared toward getting more organized. She provides a lot of helpful information on organizing and gaining control over your life. Yes, she even has an ebook to walk you through it (a new task every week). The reason I really appreciate her, though, is because rarely when she gives direction in an organizational goal does she require that you run out and purchase something. Instead she gives many options of looking at what you currently have and repurposing it to meet another goal. Much of what she suggests has more to do with rearranging habits in your life as opposed to where you put the electric bill. This is in direct opposition of what I find in the home-party sphere. So many of these wonderful companies want the same end goal for customers (a more organized life) but rather than focusing on the skill, they focus on the product. We begin to believe, “if i just buy this, I’ll be better at….”
And we’re quite wired to believe these patterns work. That by owning, shopping, buying, consuming X, our life will change dramatically. This is how commerce in our society keeps moving. And the more I see it, the less I trust it. Right now, the surest way to loose my confidence is to offer to sell me something. You might be right – a change in my life might be needed. But a product is not going to fix it. 
This morning I read God’s words through the prophet Joel: Change your life, not just your clothes. Come back to God, your God.” (2:13, I have no idea whose emphasis – either the Hebrew or Peterson’s). I thought to myself, “if this were written for the younger context it would say, ‘change your life, not just your music’ because so often we place a marker on the shift from secular to Christian music, especially in the life of young people. 
But though music is good, it doesn’t change your life. God’s not selling a new product to try to make life better; he’s looking for a different pattern of life, one that is consumed with the presence of Christ. God doesn’t want the same, slightly improved version of yourself in a gaudy Christianese tshirt. He wants to know that the seed that was planted is growing into a tree that bears the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness and self-control. 

hey, big spender

“You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are – no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.” – Jesus (Matthew 5:5, Message)

One of the token complaints of church is that the “pastor is always preaching about money.” Especially if you’re looking for a church in October, by the way. But had these complainers ever sat in audience with Jesus, they’d find themselves with similar sentiments. Money was one of the favorite topics of teaching and conversation. However, unlike common sermons today, Jesus centered his words as much around the 90% of income as it did the 10% that was supposed to become a tithe to the church. Jesus laid out a fundamental warning: Materialism is about ownership – when money, and stuff, own you. 
Take the rich man, for example, that followed all the laws and rules for religion. When he asked Jesus what to do, Jesus told him to sell al his possessions and give them to the poor. The rich man couldn’t do it and walked away saddened. This passage has more layers than an onion, and included in them is the sadness the rich man must felt when he realized his material goods had a stronger grip in him than the Spirit of God. 
So, I’ve decided my Lenten practice this year will be to stop spending. The Big Freeze. Of course, there are caveats that will keep me out of bankruptcy: paying bills, doctors and groceries. (Personal care items count as groceries. Going sans deodorant isn’t one of the ways I want to be like Jesus). My biggest challenge will be to not sneak into the cart a non-grocery item that I “need” while at Meijer. I’m definitely going to need an accountability structure for that. 
 
I’m hoping the next 40 days will help me realize exactly how much I participate in this machine of consumerism. How my social life centers around paying someone to prepare (ok, be honest – heat up) my food. And how much I depend on a store to supply me with an object to give someone as a token of my gratitude or love. I hope God reveals to me little ingenuity I have, how I don’t look to my own creativity before I head to Amazon. 
So here we go. Day one, leaving the house without the need of cash or credit. 

the plague of profitibility

My chiro may have just ruined me in a glorious, freeing way. I’ve not been ruined so beautifully since Jesus and I had a heart-to-heart back in 2000. I’m not saying my chiro is Jesus; however, my journey into faith mirrors my recent steps away from mainstream thought. It was a conversation here, an event there. Suddenly the scales fell from my eyes and it wasn’t just how I felt, it’s how I see the world. It’s both joyfully freeing while at the same time saddening. You want to run through the streets expelling such wonderful news, but not be that pushy-pushy neighbor that won’t shut up about how she’s been healed.

So, to what have I converted? Am I a member of a subgroup of sorts, like vegetarians or Episcopalians? Not really. No, rather than having membership in some new body of people, I’d rather identify what I see and believe about my healthcare options. Which can basically be summarized as: I’m tired of being a consumer of “healthy things” instead of living a healthy lifestyle. And our current system is set up for consumption, not change. (Again with the direct mirrors in the spiritual world).
Everybody wants to be healthy; I’m sure there’s a rare person out there that truly cares nothing about it, but on the whole everyone wants to live without pain, for as long as they can. However, rarely do we want to do the work of change. I’ve said before that there are 2 levels of change: wanting to change, and wanting to do the things that bring about change. The first is easy. The second can be excruciating. Instead, we want our productive culture to produce something that will do the work for us. We’ll buy food packaged with promises to lower cholesterol or increase metabolism. When that doesn’t work, we head to the professionals and let them write a script for the heavy-duty version.
But my friends – and this has been my biggest revelation – healthiness is more than what we buy. Believe me, I’m plenty aware that there’s a whole health food racket out there willing to sell us the organic version of the same stuff that got us in this mess. But that’s the American way. If something can make us better, then it simply must be packaged and sold for profit, right?
In this journey with Baby C and her sensitive systems, our buying habits have changed for sure. I’m hoping Panera will forgive me someday and maybe even reconcile on a more limited basis. But healthy living doesn’t depend on a product or a manufacturer. We must depend on a variety of sources to keep us going. Just like buying Addidas doesn’t do the workout for us, putting “all natural” or “reduced fat” in the cart won’t keep us thin or healthy.
I’m not pointing fingers. Doctors don’t go into their line of work to become pill dispensers – they’re put in that role because it’s what the market economy asks them to do. On the one hand, I’m saddened that I can’t expect to take my daughter into her PCP and s/he ask, “well, let’s see what we change by changing her/your diet or environment.” Instead, the script pad comes out for Nystatin. On the other hand, how many of his/her patients are coming in and asking to be put on an extremely limited diet without things like donuts and muffins, as an attempt to get rid of a rash? No, our system is one of consumption because we don’t come to get healthy, we come to buy a product that will fix us.
This new lifestyle of eating has been a lot of work. A lot. So when I raise my flags, the cries of “who has time to do this?” is a fair question. People opt for quick and easy because that’s the preference of how they’d like to spend their time. And that’s fine. If people want to take a pill instead grind nuts for flour, this beautiful land called America is the place to be. I’m just saying that I’ve decided to opt out of that.
I believe there are other ways of life, and in my (limited!) experience, they’re more effective. We know the effectiveness of drugs because the drug companies have lots of money to do studies to prove to you how effective they are. We know that Cheerios “reduce cholesterol” (I have no idea why I seem to be picking on cholesterol reduction. I’ve never had a battle with it and the word is impossible to spell correctly on the first try) because General Mills has the cash to run a study on it and then the marketing team to tell us about it. Do we know the effectiveness of nuts and broccoli? Nope. Raw food producers probably have enough of a task at hand keeping prices low enough to warrant buying fresh without adding in a marketing budget. They’re stuck with a prayer that time-honored knowledge, broccoli is good for you, will do the trick.
My journalism professor for news writing used to tell us to “follow the money trail”. It’s advice that extends beyond the newsroom. If you follow the money, you begin to learn the hows and whys. Most decisions have an economical drive, which is why our food has changed in the past 100 years. And it’s not a new idea that money rules. So these powers-that-be have their hands in government decisions, such as recommending how much or what we, or our babies eat.
So a lot of the steps I’m taking now are unconventional. Weird. But that’s because no one has come up with a way to package and sell it. But don’t you worry – someone will. And it won’t be pure. It’ll be the same song, different tune.
When I started to read up and fall in line (to some extent) the emergent church movement, people asked what was different. Many made adaptations, but it was the same thing, with candles. That’s not emerging. The change wasn’t in what was purchased or structured, but in how the world was viewed. A stream came out of that movement that had branding and structure and raised financial support. Gone was the sense of emergence; it was just… the newest fad.
I think the same will go for efforts at living healthy. Someone will put a logo on it and try to make a profit. That’s when your buzzer should go off. Not that I won’t buy the product or take part in the service. But rather, my hope is that I won’t blindly believe it will fix everything.
Just like a one-time prayer and attendance on Sunday won’t fix my spiritual life, switching brands won’t increase my life expectancy. But rather it’s the constant efforts – even the failures – that bring us a step closer to the goal. It’s leaving behind a way of life that, quite simply, wasn’t working.
So, onward we go. Hopefully with a healed-up system that allows us to enjoy the best the world has to offer. At least, that’s what the package said. 
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