Capitalism Versus Presence

can we really have both?

Hi friends,

Well, we are about halfway through January of 2024, and at least in our family, it’s been a strange start with a lingering flu virus making its way slowly through our household, which means those lovely resolutions have been pushed aside with hopeful glances. Maybe we will get to them. Maybe we won’t.

But as I’m trying to even get 2024 started in any real way, I am reminded once again of the realities of consumerism masked as “seasonal living.”

I opened the Target app on my phone the other day and right away saw this image:

Now listen, I love planning ahead. I love thinking to the next season, wondering about decor and the changes that will be made both inside and outside, and spring is the new year for us Anishinaabe, so it’s a celebration all-around.

But the problem is we are not in spring yet, and we live in a society that wants us not just planning ahead, not just thinking ahead, but spending money and shopping ahead.

That’s not the way this should work.

When I began writing this in my head at 3 in the morning the other day (always a writer even when I don’t want to be) I couldn’t decide which of the two Cs to use in the case of this essay: capitalism or consumerism.

I often feel this conundrum, because the two are so deeply connected, but I feel like capitalism is the toxic mother of consumerism in a way, so I tend to go with the bigger issue first.

But consumerism grows up to be toxic too, so maybe we should use both here, and I'll go ahead and refer to them as the toxic Cs.

From a BBC article on consumerism:

In his classic 1928 book "Propaganda," Edward Bernays, one of the pioneers of the public relations industry, put it this way: "Mass production is profitable only if its rhythm can be maintained." He argued that business "cannot afford to wait until the public asks for its product; it must maintain constant touch, through advertising and propaganda… to assure itself the continuous demand which alone will make its costly plant profitable".

This isn’t a space where I’m arguing for alternatives to capitalism or trying to make huge, sweeping statements about its effects around the world—I just want to focus on this one thing, this one thing that keeps us from being present to the moment, the toxicity of capitalism and consumerism together trying to trick us into a false sense of cyclical living.

I worked at Pier 1 Imports for a few years, and while it was far better than my short stint at American Eagle in high school, it was still a space where I was constantly feeling the tension between helping folks buy things to make to their homes more welcoming and luring customers into buying more of what they don’t need, or worse, applying for yet another store credit card.

And every season we prepared for the next, getting out Christmas decor in October, Spring decor in Winter, always looking ahead, planning ahead, to maintain that “constant touch” as the BBC article explains.

I’m not wired for a job in retail, but even the publishing industry has its issues and is deeply tethered to and dependent upon capitalism and consumerism, and as an author I have to ask questions about my place in the publishing world. I have to ask how I stay present to myself.

The question I pose in the subtitle of this piece is can we really have both? Can we have both capitalism (or consumerism) and presence? I’m not sure, not without painful compromise. As with many things, I think we have to hold the balance, hold the tension, hold the questions at the forefront of our minds and hearts as we navigate what it means to be human.

Photo by Bacila Vlad on Unsplash

Here is what I do know.

Being present to the moment we are in is a sacred and really, really difficult practice in our modern world, that provides us so many ways to always be looking ahead.

It’s a struggle for me, as someone who loves to dream and plan and head in the next direction—what does it mean to, as Ram Dass once said, be here now?

Can you just be here, in Winter, in this new calendar year, making space for the hibernation and the inward contemplation before you jump to what’s next?

Can you trust that spring will arrive as it needs to?

We can’t just stop being consumers, I understand that. But the liminal space here allows us to ask what kinds of consumers we want to be under capitalism.

So instead of buying a series of new Spring throw pillows in February, I can light another candle and ask what the cold has to teach me.

And as the seasons change, instead of feeling the need to buy things to bring those seasons to me, I can go to where Mother Earth shows me the seasons herself, and ushers me forward not just in my body but in my very spirit. You could never, ever purchase that in a store, and in fact, a large goal of the toxic Cs is leading us to question our relationship to Mother Earth in very real, often subtle ways.

Resist it. Embrace the rhythms and the presence here, now, in your very body’s memory.

While I’m making sure that I am prepared for March, April, May, especially as a writer and public speaker, I can also hold the space of what it means to be a writer in the dead of winter, in the cold, in the quiet.

Do you feel that, too?

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

So, I offer us a breathing exercise for those moments when we are trying to hold the tension between the toxicity of the two Cs and the power of presence:

Take a deep breath in

Slowly let that breath out

I am present to this season

I am a human being

I hold space here

I trust the season to come

I am present to this season

Take a deep breath in

Slowly let that breath out

I hold tenderness in a toxic world

I trust my own intuition

I am grateful for this moment, this time

Take a deep breath in

Slowly let that breath out

I am present to this season

I am present to this season

I am present to this season

Mother Earth, guide me

Mother Earth, meet me

Mother Earth, sustain me

Take a deep breath in

Slowly let that breath out

Onward, into the depth and richness of this moment, this season.