“How do you afford to travel so much?!”

It’s a question I ask everyone who seems to inspire me, but I’ve found that many people are also asking the same question of me. I guess my answer is the same as the one I get from the people who seem to be living my dream life : I prefer to spend my hard-earned money on what is actually important to me.

I’ve grown up in a generation bombarded with huge advances in technology and social media. The stuff we have is constantly being upgraded, and on top of that, our social networks are super on top of letting you know who got the newest, hottest stuff. It doesn’t take much to find yourself caught in the race of materialism based worthiness thanks to societal influence and the allure of “fitting in”. Consumerism drives us further from freeing ourselves of the cyclical dance of suffering, samsara.

Most will agree that money doesn’t buy happiness, but then some will turn around to argue that money does buy things that make us happy. If that’s true, what is it that you are buying that will make you happy and keep you happy? The Dalai Lama teaches that we have tricked ourselves into believing that “satisfaction can arise from gratifying the senses alone.” No doubt, buying the newest iPhone or a fresh new handbag makes you excited and validated for some time, but then it wears off. We adapt to the things we buy and they lose their novelty and power to excite us. The cycle continues as we keep needing more upgraded stuff to maintain the good feelings.

Travel, learning, culture, fantastic food, adventure…these are the things that are valuable to me. So when people ask me how I can afford to take a vacation every year, it’s not because I’m rich.  I save my money to spend it on those vacations because that is stirs my soul. For me, the experience and personal growth that come from traveling or investing in a meaningful education is worth far more than a new outfit or an updated laptop.

I probably won’t look back on my life and regret not updating my cracked iPhone for the newest model. It’s more likely that I’ll find joy in remembering my experience climbing around the ruins of Angkor Wat for 3 days. When I pull from all the personal growth and realistic knowledge I gained from investing in 500 hours of yoga and wellness trainings, I likely won’t miss the nights I didn’t spend at bars downing $8 cocktails.

The Bhagavad Gita suggests that the material world cannot impact the Soul, our true Self. So why not invest in the experiences that will truly fill you on that deep and lasting level? Let your money bring you closer to true happiness and growth, away from the cycle of suffering that consumerism perpetuates.

The material world ultimately be separate from your true Self. Experiences on the other hand become part of you.

***

Check out this article To Do or To Have? That Is the Question from the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology (yes, I'm a nerd who reads scholarly research) written by Thomas Gilovich of Cornell University and Leaf Van Boven of University of Colorado at Boulder on the links between money, happiness, materialism, and experiences.

The look on her face said “HEAR ME?!” She wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a question or a demand. An exclamation, an exasperated imploring cry. Who knew at this point? She’d been quiet for so long that even to her, the pleads were merely faint echoes bouncing around in a container of the past, caught in a confused cycle. Hitting one wall and rounding back along the boundary to shoot across the dark vacuum of space they inhabited. Existing in a vacuum isn’t really existing much at all. So she just let that deep space peer out from behind her dark eyes.

 If you could see it, you’d be mesmerized by its brilliance. Imagine the entire Universe swirling around in something that seemed confined but was found to be endless as you searched for its edges. Infinite creation and destruction dancing in tune. And carried around in every speck of every being. Carried around on the necklace of a cat named Orion. Carried around in the free beer handed to the homeless man at the intersection. In the fresh new box of crayons for the first day of kindergarten. In the wildflowers blooming along the side of the turnpike. Carried around in her eyes.

But even with all this brilliance, she couldn’t force them to see. Couldn’t make them sit still long enough to find the patience to look for those edges, to wonder what stars were being created by the stardust of those which had exploded in a grand celebration. She couldn’t teach them the language of her knowing, the words and sounds that would join together to create the most luminous symphony of understanding. That’s all she was asking for, some understanding. Someone to witness her. Would they ever be so blessed as to experience this world she was holding inside her? This world she saw stifled inside all of them? 

Some days it seemed to be too much to exist this way. Hidden and hiding. Silent and screaming out. She felt the cosmos swirling around inside her searching for cracks to pour out of, yet at the same time completely content with their home behind her eyes. They’d be peering out waiting to meet another soul who could HEAR HER, who could SEE HER. Knowing that when it happened, the light of a billion suns would engulf them both, just for a moment, a confirmation of each other’s existence, before they both continued along their own paths, that much more aware of their own continuation.

A question or a demand… there’s no need to hold their heads and point them toward the direction of Truth with a capital T. They’ll find it or they won’t. They’d remain ignorant or they’ll fall into themselves and the Truth of the universe. They can live eternally, joining in the divine dance of the cosmos, embracing destruction as liberation, eager to lift their mayas/veils, or they can walk blind and deaf through this single, dying planet, leaving nothing more than a faint echo amidst her great roar.