Here in North America, many of us have a dysfunctional relationship with “stuff.” You know, money and material possessions. This relationship manifests in nonsensical ideas like, “He who dies with the most toys, wins,” or, “Stuff will not make you happy.” Personally, I don’t buy into either of those points of view. As usual, the truth is found in the middle. Here’s how I see it.

Image if you will, that you are lost in the woods. You are alone. Night has fallen and along with it, the temperature. A cold rain has soaked your clothing through and through. You have no food or water and no one knows where you are. As you stumble along, the trail, which was difficult to see during the day becomes nearly invisible in the gathering dark. You have tried to call for help but there is no cell service in this part of the wilderness. How would you feel under those conditions? Miserable? Surely. Scared? If you are smart you would be. People die under those circumstances every year in my part of the world.

As you grope your way through the darkness, unsuccessfully seeking respite from the elements you feel more and more hopeless with each passing minute. Then, suddenly, you come to a clearing. In that clearing stands a cabin. A lazy plume of smoke rises from the chimney and the warm glow of light issues from the windows announcing that someone is home. You approach the cabin door and knock softly. You have no idea who lives there or how they will react to a stranger at the door but you know you need help so you knock.

To your great relief, the door swings open and you are greated by a jovial woodsman who immediately invites you in. He summons his equally jovial wife and together they get you some dry clothing, a bowl of hot soup, a seat by the fire and a warm, comfortable bed in which to spend the night. How are you feeling now? Relieved? Surely. Grateful? I hope so.

What made the difference? A humble shelter? Simple food? Dry clothes? A warm, secure place to rest after a harrowing ordeal? It was “stuff” that made the difference. Material things. Nothing fancy or extravagant. But stuff it was. Stuff paired with generosity, of course.

So, the first truth is this: The lack of a certain level of material possessions can make us very miserable indeed. This condition can be life threatening. People die in the thousands each day for the lack of basic necessities. Truth number two is: The provision of a few very simple material items can make us feel much better. Adequate provisions can save our lives. These truths are inescapable.

Where we go wrong is when we begin to think, “If that stuff made me happy, more stuff will make me more happy and even more stuff will make me happier still.” This is the lie that leads to endless suffering. Another story might be helpful.

A few years ago, I took a solo road trip across the United States. My goal was to find out why fear and hatred are tearing this country apart. My method was to meet as many people as possible and listen… just listen without comment and without judgment.

In a large city along the way, I met an exceedingly wealthy man who was eager, insistent even, to share his philosophy.  So intent was he that he invited me to his house in order to showcase his success.  When we arrived, it was abundantly clear that the man was rich beyond measure. His home wasn’t so much a house in the way I understand houses.  It was more of a compound.  Thirty+ acres of manicured grounds on a private lake, walled, with security.  The house itself was three stories, including six bedrooms each with it’s own full bath. Two additional half baths were available in public areas of the mansion. The tour continued, revealing a swimming pool (in addition to the lake), a game room bigger than my entire home and an arsenal of weapons with thousands of rounds of ammunition.  In the garage was a Ferrari, a McLaren and an Escalade.  At the dock, was a ski boat, a sail boat and a bass boat. All this for the man and his wife.

As he walked me around and described every asset in detail, emphasizing the price and how it come into his possession, it became clear to me that his identity was closely entwined with his possessions. “I am because I have” you might say.

The rich man explained his philosophy which was quite simple.  “Take as much as you can and give as little as possible.” He emphasized that anyone who isn’t wealthy is lazy.  He stated the poor and infirm should “just die” because “they are worthless parasites sucking up my oxygen.”

Now, I am 100% certain that many, many people would see this man as an example of success and would eagerly trade places with him. But this man was not happy. Everything upset him. He was stressed beyond measure. The slightest exertion caused him to sweat profusely and gasp for breath. When it was time for dinner, he quickly downed enormous quantities of rich food which he washed down with a prodigous amount of alcohol. Consuming without enjoyment. He was wound so tightly that it is only a matter of time before he has a stroke or cardiac event.  The entire time I was there, the man and his wife fought constantly, hurling insults back and forth and calling each other vulgar names. Their suffering was on full display.

This man, whose house cost more than all the money I have made in my life was one of the most miserable individuals I have ever met. Why wasn’t he happy?

Acquisition is like a drug. One gets a bit of a thrill, a moment of satisfaction from acquiring possessions. We see something we want and it is all we can think about. We tell ourselves that we cannot be happy until we possess the thing of our obsession. Like Gollum, “We wants it, we needs it. Must have the precious.”

And when we acquire it, we feel a momentary rush. I mean, if drugs didn’t provide some mood modification, no one would use them. But this modification comes with an insidious trap. One must continue using more and more of the substance to get the same level of excitement. And at some point, one no longer uses the drug to feel good. One uses it not to feel bad.

The same goes for acquiring possessions. We try to lift our depression, calm our anxieties, reinforce our sense of self worth by acquiring the newest, the shinniest, the most trendy things. But we pay dearly for these things. We work so much that we have no time to enjoy our lives. We sacrifice time with our friends, our families and nature. We fight with our significant others. We damage our physical and mental health. We go into debt. We may steal or cheat. We may compromise our moral and ethical standards. All because we chase the momentary high of acquisition.

Many of us become slaves to our obsessions. Whether we have extraordinary wealth or are of modest means, we see, we want, we see we want, and when we get, we forget and want more. Don’t believe me? Take a look at your credit card bill. You saddled yourself with debt for what? Are you happy about it? Look around the place where you live. Does everything in your possession make you happy? I doubt it. But we cling to what we have all the while craving more and more.

Still not sure, try this: Next time you want to buy something that is not essential for your immediate survival, delay the purchase for 48 hours. See what happens. It is possible that the urge to acquire will pass and you will not make the purchase. You may appreciate that decision when your credit card bill comes due or when you find a few extra dollars in your pocket at the end of the day.

It is perhaps more likely that you will spend a great deal of time thinking about the object and make the purchase anyway, maybe before the 48 hours have elapsed. If you made the purchase, reflect on why you were unable to restrain yourself. Make a note on your calendar to reflect again in 60 days. Has the purchase provided you the ongoing pleasure you imagined or have you moved on to the next obsession?

The truth is that the absence of a certain level of provisions can be life threatening. It is also true that the acquisition of these provisions can be life saving and result in happiness and well being. But the notion that greater happiness will result from grasping for more than we need is a lie, a lie that our culture repeats to us again and again…a lie we are all too eager to believe in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. As a wise person once said, “The furniture may be excusite and the bars of solid gold but once the bird realizes the cage is a cage, within that cage it finds no joy.”

As always, I am not judging. But I am encouraging reflection and thought. I believe the happiest person is not the one who has the most but the person who wants the least.

But don’t take my word for it. Investigate for yourself.