The Cult of Consumerism is the society we live in, where we mindlessly waste resources. It’s a disease of the mind, where we take what we don’t need, only to throw it away later. It’s a form of selfishness, a lack of spirituality, and a poverty of consciousness. In this post, I will share my story of how my thinking changed. People like me, who were born into poor families somewhere in provincial Russia, often strive to have more, to own things, and to be rich. Overcoming this complex is nearly impossible because what we strongly lacked in childhood becomes our obsession later in life. This is how an entire nation, a vast culture of consumerism, is born. It starts with plastic ice cream cups and ends with billions stolen from the state. You may ask—what do plastic and billions have in common? It’s the lack of empathy and care for others, for animals, and for the planet as a whole.
Travel Changed Me
I started travelling actively about 7 years ago. By *actively*, I mean visiting several countries each year and spending months away from Russia. At that time, I lugged around huge suitcases full of clothes, shoes, and all sorts of things for my comfort. I immediately ran into the problem that, being a small woman without a man nearby, dragging all of that was simply unbearable. The suitcase had wheels, but cities have stairs, poor roads where the wheels wouldn’t roll, and so on.
I began thinking about how to switch from a suitcase to a bag. After every trip, I came back with a pile of things I never used, taken “just in case.” I decided to get rid of them. For my next trip, I packed fewer things and took a bag. It seemed light, but after a few hours of wandering through airports, train stations, and searching for a hotel, I realised that even a bag wasn’t the solution.
The next turning point was switching to a backpack. Almost all items were left out, and since I always carry a laptop with me, there was very little space, so I could only take the most important and necessary things. That’s how I learned to get by with 5 outfits for six months, which included warm pants and a sweater, one dress, shorts, and a couple of T-shirts. As for shoes, I kept only my sneakers, and I would buy flip-flops locally since they’re cheap in any country.
After a year away from Russia, I realised I had grown accustomed to living without many things. If I needed something, I would buy it locally, but I tried even not to do that because, after each trip, I would come back with a pile of purchased but unnecessary items, feeling wasteful to throw them away.
The Burden of Possessions
Possessions started to weigh me down, and the “wealth” I had accumulated became expensive to maintain. I still had many things left in Russia, as well as property, like a car, which required constant expenses. I didn’t want to rent out the car, but it had to be started and warmed up at least once a month to avoid rusting or deterioration. The same applied to my house in Russia, which I eventually had to rent out to ensure someone looked after it and heated it (even though irresponsible tenants eventually ruined it).
I also stored my belongings in a warehouse in Moscow, paying €30 per month. It seemed like a small amount, but over the course of a year, that’s 360 €.
These are the nuances of owning things and property. Growing up in poverty, I thought it was so cool to have 20 handbags and shoes for every occasion, hundreds of clothing sets, various brands, and styles. But in the end, I had all of that, and it turned out… I didn’t need any of it. Travelling the world with just a backpack, wearing comfortable sneakers and sweatpants, proved to be far more valuable and exciting than maintaining the culture of consumerism and hoarding clothes.
Understanding What Matters: Less is More
This discovery unlocked an amazing ability in me: I learned to understand whether I feel comfortable in something or if my “ego” is shouting, “Keep this, everyone will envy you.”
I cleaned out my closets, sold some things, gave away others, and felt much lighter. Afterward, I realised that I had kept many items just because they were branded, fashionable, or expensive. It became clear to me that I had been influenced by external expectations rather than my own comfort. Since then, I’ve stopped caring about brands, and this expense disappeared from my life completely.
Another benefit was that I stopped clinging to material things. Whatever I have, I don’t wake up in a cold sweat at night worrying that someone will take it away. This eliminated greed and brought an intuitive ability to take only what I needed.
I once dreamed of owning villas worldwide, different cars, a private jet, and a yacht. But these dreams are becoming less and less important to me because I realise I might enjoy those things for a while, but eventually, I’d get bored, and the monthly costs of maintaining them would be enormous.
The Cult of Consumerism: Is There Really Anything Wrong if You Can Afford It?
You might say, “What’s the problem if you can afford a yacht and a private jet, and pay for all of it?”. My answer is that truly wealthy people know how to manage money and don’t waste it, living modestly without consuming the world’s resources for the shallow desire to “own.” Only pseudo-rich people, who remain poor on the inside, behave this way.
After all, you can always rent a plane or a yacht for a while. 🙂
Less is More: The Simple Truth
This realisation helped me learn to take from the world only what I need without trying to grab more. I understood that greed is an excess of resources, a sick idea of the mind because we never need more than what we truly need. When we take more, we deprive those who genuinely need it.
