But, shopping can be fun, even window shopping, as one looks at an array of beautiful things and imagines what kind of life one might have if a Red Poncho was part of the picture, or what might happen in life if a Pink Chinese Lantern illuminated the living room.

Shopping can be about possibility.  But in an effort not to indulge my fantasies too much, I have added an additional inner conversation to my interior dialogue.  I offer myself a few words, in the form of a question, in order to stop myself from really buying that Red Poncho or that Pink Chinese lantern.

Actually, two questions:  for awhile I would say to myself “Well, I can’t take it with me when I die,” but that basically stopped me from buying anything, even some necessities, so I had to modify that particular line of questioning.

Perhaps because I moved around a lot as a young child, I have a little wanderlust in me and I would love to move somewhere where they don’t speak English, say Mexico (or Austria, anyone?) for example, for a year (or so) while the children are still young.

If that ever becomes possible, I won’t be able to drag all of my stuff with me.   So now, before I take the Pink Chinese Lantern in hand, I ask myself “Can I take this to San Miguel/Vienna when I move there?”  More often than not, the answer is no, and I envision the poor Pink Chinese Lantern, meant to shine and glow, but destined, because of my poor planning, to sit in a storage unit and grow old and dusty.  So I don’t buy it (but isn’t it lovely).

The Red Poncho, on the other hand:  let’s just say, my life as I know it has changed completely.

For other adventures in shopping (or not shopping), check out Judith Levine’s book Not Buying It about her adventures not shopping for a year.

See you there!