Saturday 21 January 2012

a letter to the toybox

Just finished reading a post on baby showers by a lovely lady who's been around the blogosphere long enough to know how to write a post that gets one thinking!  One thing that struck me, as I commented is how my own views towards materialism have just about turned 180 degrees in terms of priorities.

Stuff is one of those pervasively ubiquitous categories in life, at least for us in the industrialized world.  Lucky us.  >.<  It begins for us, over a bowl of cheerios, interrupting the stories on that magic box, the ones our parents might read to us if the power goes out, but have come alive through the mediums we call network tv.  A flash of colour.  A catchy tune.   Little girls with a toy so captivating, it causes her peers to gravitate in her direction, as though--almost--against their will.  In the thirty second lifetime of that ad, our children are hooked. Not chemically.  Not physically, though the craving and nagging are a certain common physical symptoms of this addiction.  No, this is more insidious.  They are hooked emotionally, and even instinctively.

We are told, in our formative years, that we NEED this, or we HAVE to have it. Why?  Because our friends will love us for it.  We are told during the practice stage, as we shakily attempt those mysterious grown up rituals, that this will ATTRACT, this will ENERGIZE, this will secure our place in the group.  We are told as adults, as mothers and fathers, that we SHOULD get this, or we OUGHT to have that.  Because it's good for our family.  And those of us that believe the promises on the screen, share one fundamental thing.  I believe, if asked to sum up their immediate thoughts and feelings into one succinct word, very few shopaholics would say first, "I am happy."  They might admit to inadequacy, or anxiety.  Depending on the number of bags in their hands, perhaps multiplied by the level of social distinction conveyed by the names blazoned across them, you find one or two shoppers who feel "GREAT! CHARGED! READY TO GO!"  That would make sense, given the levels of dopamine their brains are releasing because of what they carry in their hands.

What really frightens me is that, in our society, we have progressed to a point where accumulation of things can be a harmless passion, a career, and a brain-warping disease all at once.  Very few slices of life can claim the same.  Some of us have almost forgotten the kiss of non-recycled air, or the soul-calming effect of a view with neither billboard, nor ad.  There are those of us who would rank the thrill of the deal higher than the true accomplishment of having a quiet, happy home.  As long as we're talking about chemical brain reaction, why not remember instead, the nerves that fire when you hold your infant close, and your very cells recognize her as a part of you. Can a hoarder, or a salesman, or an antique cola bottle collector remember the sound of a song sung just for them?  The flattery of a child who screams with delight as you walk through the door?

The picture of a person reduced to covetous greed is not new at all.  We've seen this before, and all we did was create a much more complex model.  We're good at that. However, we're also pretty good at loving. Says the 7 billionth baby, anyway! ;) So, what say we challenge ourselves?  Can we, as industrialized humans let go of the 'paper or plastic' and focus instead on 'carrots or broccoli;'  'Empty papertowel tube, or box that the Crockpot came in;'  'Go for a walk, or play house'?  Can we place trust in our tiny humans, that they will thrive if they are Disney-less and remember that saying no will not transform our beautiful babies into outcasts, nor must it break them.

I believe we can do it, but it will take strength.  And it will take our greatest strength.  But the important part (the part that would be flashed on the screen a half dozen times were this playing on latenight TV) is that we can do it.

Says Baby 5,079,451,844, !

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