The good in materialism

Is there a deeper meaning behind what we choose to surround ourselves with?

OVER the past month, I’ve been captivated by a collection of watches and felt a strong urge to buy one – and I’ve been racking my brains over where such a deep interest comes from.

I presumed I was drawn to this particular collection because it’s an attractive one. It’s also nice to have nice things and while I’m not overly materialistic, I do have my weaknesses.

But then I was asked a thought-provoking question by a reader who wanted to know whether I thought there could be such a thing as a “mindful materialist”. In other words, can any good come from desiring possessions?

This brought be back to my fondness for watches. Was it really the case that I liked a timepiece purely because of its appearance? It certainly had little to do with the accuracy or even its functionality, given that my smartphone is almost always within reach.

Usually, when we think about people showing off their designer clothes, news shoes, phones and cars, the thing that comes to mind is status. The person, we suppose, is trying to send a message about who they think they are in the hope of achieving social validation.

After all, what would be the point in splashing out on fancy possessions if you couldn’t show them off to the world and impress people?

I began to wonder, though, if there’s a deeper meaning behind what we choose to surround ourselves with. It’s sometimes said that our possessions are an extension of who we are. But could it be the case that our possessions are actually representative of who we want to be?

For example, one of the watches that caught my eye has an uncomplicated, neat design. It looks like a solid and robust timepiece, with the components complementing each other in effortless harmony.

The idea of looking for representations of who we want to be isn’t new. It’s found in every religious ritual and place of worship. Spiritual jewellery and statues aren’t just

“nice”, they serve as psychological reminders of what we’re ultimately trying to achieve: a sense of peace, contentment and virtue.

Traditionally, materialism has been viewed as a destructive force, but I wonder if there’s good to come of it after all. Most of us like to have nice possessions, and yet many of us feel guilty whenever we think we’re needlessly indulging in our pleasures.

However, there’s no doubt that material objects can have a powerful psychological effect – it’s just a matter of what kind of effect they have on us. There will certainly be

times when materialism serves to fuel greed, vanity and a sense of superiority. On the other hand, there appears to be a positive flipside whereby possessions, carefully chosen, can act as reminders of the ideal self we would like to develop.

It’s possible that I’m looking to talk myself into buying a pricey watch, and could be met with disappointment as a consequence. After all, anticipation is often followed by an underwhelming reality. Nevertheless, I would tentatively suggest that it is possible to be a mindful materialist.

Much in the same way that our parents place stabilisers on the back tyre when we learn to ride a bicycle, material objects that remind of the qualities we’re trying to cultivate could act as a means to keep us on track over a short period of time.

Of course, since deliberate awareness lies at the root of mindfulness, it’s prudent to know the difference between mindless consumption and investing in purchases that could help in some way to bring out the best in us. We do, after all, tend to carry ourselves better in formal wear compared to when we’re in T-shirt and shorts. The tricky part is in knowing where exactly our intention lies. The ego can be extremely subtle and give all sorts of compelling arguments as to how buying three pairs of expensive shoes aids in the journey towards spiritual enlightenment.

We could argue that we should really only buy what we need, but most people who have sufficient means generally fall way outside the ideal – we all have a lot of stuff we don’t need. Instead of feeling guilty for indulging now and again, it’s much more practical to think about the ways in which whatever we buy can help us to push ourselves a little more towards our ideal self.

Like everything else, materialism is neither inherently good nor bad. It all comes down to how we make use of what we buy and the consequences that come from our decisions. Do they help us, even just a little, to strive towards certain values? Or do our purchases simply serve to make us feel better at the envy of others?