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Another buzzfeed titled, “29 Cheap Things To Treat Yourself To Right Now” comes across our news feed. This article is another reminder of our addiction to super consumerism, not living the life with intention and self-control.

1. Buy ________ because we’re worth it! We derive self-worth from the cheap consumer goods not who we are and what we do.
2. Buy ________ to give our hands something to do when we’re feeling nervous because its’ better to distract ourselves instead of dealing with the problem head on.
3. Buy ________ that will leave onlooker completely spellbound by our worthless crap because integrity and kindness cannot be worn on our sleeves.
4. Buy ________ with a dash of something totally ridiculous for snack emergencies because without it, we’ll die of malnutrition. 

Retail therapy doesn’t work. It drains our wallet and robs us of our time.

What we really need is true therapy. We need to fulfill the need to talk to ourselves. Contemplate. Let our minds wander. Eventually, we’ll need to talk to someone else. A professional perhaps. A good friend. A stranger. Someone who would listen and remind us to be kind to our worst critic: ourselves.

Instead of ignoring or finding coping (masking) mechanisms, let fear, resentment and shame wash over us. Try to understand why. Why we constantly feel this way, and ascertain the source of discomfort.

To dig deep, we need to eliminate distraction.

Stop shopping and start living.

“Trust me” He demanded, and refused to move.
(But I don’t even know you…)

I always book aisle seat whenever I fly and had the ticket stub in my hand: 27C. The legend on the bulkhead corresponded.

“Ask the flight attendant”, he demanded.

The flight attendant confirms the truth.

He moves without apologizing. Mumbles something about always requesting aisle seats.

I get a glimpse into his life. A bully who’s not used to being challenged. A bully who gets his way no matter what until someone steps up to question him.

It takes just one person to stand up to a bully.

My fingers were blue because I was cleaning out a Mont Blanc pen. It had been washed and tumble-dried by mistake by someone who got it from someone else. I cleaned it up for her. I’m not rich. I also can’t believe the pen costs $500!!!

In South Africa, where I live, we tip a flat 10%. I thought 20% would be appropriate… but I was wrong. I didn’t know that 20% is the bare minimum in New York! I’m sorry! I wanted to leave you an awesome tip for your stellar service!

You’ll do well in whatever you do.

Juliana’s is top 10 pizza joints in the USA. I can see why. Thanks for great service and yummy pizza.

Perception versus reality. What is the space in between? It could be anywhere from zero to infinity. Who do we surround ourselves with? To help check our blind spots and call us out on our bullshit? Tell us the truth that causes active discomfort?

Or do we run away from them? Into the safety net, to get tangled up into our web of lies?

We leave Manhattan to pay you a visit. I don’t see any tourists here. Yay.

I enter a Vevo recording venue, courtesy of a concierge that also doubles as thoughtful sister. A free venue with free booze. Brooklyn, you’re too kind.

The band of four women enters the stage. Their excitement is contagious and the crowd is kind. The bassist wears thick black eyeliners with grey t-shirt tucked into her tight blue jeans. The Lead Singer wears her fringe with effortless style. Maybe not. A lot of effort to look that way.

The drummer bangs away in the back, hidden from the crowd.

The lead singer steps to the edge of the stage to pat a spectator’s head.

Another guitarist wears a loose, checkered shirt. She looks out of place. She stands out from the rest.

Their spirits are high despite London jetlag combined with booze.

They’re out here making their dream come true. I applaud them for pursuing their music despite likely resistance from parents and society. Well done, ladies.

I enter the World Trade Center Mall and am confused with heavy security detail. One of them greets me and asks how my day is going. I smile. He smiles too. He makes my day.

I walk another 15 steps.

A tiny lady stops me and asks, “Donde esta el departomento de edificio”?

My mind tries to search for the meaning of edificio… City Hall? I am not sure. I am not from here. She looks confused. She is late to her appointment.

She has the address written down on top of an envelope with the direction, “última parada”

I speak a bit of Spanish. I have nowhere specific to go. I stop a man in reflective vest to ask for help. He tells me the directions in English. I translate into Spanish.

We talk. We walk. Her name is Julia. We eventually figure out how to get to 280 Broadway.

Random encounters are the best gifts of our present. I intend to talk to at least one stranger during my ten days in New York.

I look up to admire your buildings carved out of marble, granite, glass and material I can’t name. Your skyline is unique as your inhabitants. Sunshine razzle and dazzle on the surface. Wind tunnels between them provide much-needed space to let the air lift up our spirits and take away the heaviness.

I look ahead and see tourists, hustlers, street performers, and average New Yorkers. Some can’t wait for the walk signal to change before they cross. Some won’t cross until the lights turn green with no sign of cars. Everyone moves as if they’re late to a fabulous destination. They move as if their life depended on speed walking. I can taste the rush in the air. Not everyone is moving of course. Some are sleeping and some are holding up their cardboard signs with a catchy phrase to get your attention. To beg for money. To be seen. To feel like a member of the society.

I want to ask everyone. Where are you going? Why do you look like you’re late? You look really young… how did you become homeless? Aren’t you cold? Can I stop you to talk to you for few minutes?

I look down. Vibrant, healthy and full of life tulips have been planted with care. They are red. They are yellow. They are pink. Some are closed while most are open to bask in the gift of sunshine from above. Every stem and petal is filled with the elixir of life.

You are full of energy. Full of life. Full of possibilities.

I walk around in awe and smile at everyone I see. I am happy to be here. I feel happy to be alive.

To find meaning, we need time to think. To think without interruption. To dig deep. To understand ourselves. Where do we find time? How do we stop doing the things we’ve been programmed to do? If we can’t prioritize the things we do, perhaps it’d be best to stop doing everything.

Don’t read this. Turn off the TV. Close your laptop. Turn your phone over.. Don’t go outside. Don’t see your friends. Don’t go to work. Don’t buy stuff. Don’t go to amazon.com.

Stop doing the things that steal our time.

Do you feel uncomfortable? It’s okay. Give it a while. Let silence fill your body and the room you inhabit.

Do you hear what I hear? Beautiful silence lets the mind dance without interruptions.

Let’s make time. Let’s do something before time runs away from us.

People are trying their luck at dictatorship in the first world. The third world. The middle earth. Before we lay blame, let’s take a hard look at ourselves.

We voted them into power. Worst yet, some of us didn’t even care to vote.
We didn’t unite. We did not put up a fight before it was too late to rein them in.
Their reign too great; their army grows strong.

There is Korean fable that goes something like this:

A group of frogs grew tired of their kind of leadership. They wanted a leader who was different from them. Who looked better and knew more.

And so, they asked a swan to join them in their swamp. They forged an expensive crown and laid it atop of her glamorous head.

The swan happily accepted. The swan ate its subjects. The swan devoured them all.

Is it ever too late to resist?

Without resistance, you’ll be plucked and consumed by the one you trusted.