Five Steps Toward a More Meaningful Holiday Season

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The room is full, a bit cramped, the crowd filling their seats. It’s snowing lightly through the half-windows behind the stage, just a few flurries coating the sidewalks above this basement. It’s December 2012. The windows weep from the indoor heat. I turn on the microphone and look over the crowd, avoiding eye contact, which’d just make me more nervous than I already am.

I begin my speech by telling a story about a child on Christmas morning: “Fast forward a few weeks from now, Christmas Day, as little Andrew unwraps Optimus Prime and a grin breaks across his features when the large toy lights up and nearly comes to life, flashing and beeping and driving Andy’s parents crazy.

“But in a few moments, Andy discards the toy and begins unwrapping the rest of his presents, extracting each box from under the tree, one by one—some long, some tall, some heavy, some light. Each box reveals a new toy. Each shred of green-and-red wrapping paper a flash of happiness.

“An hour later, though, little Andy is crying hysterically. Based on his fits, this has undoubtedly been the worst Christmas ever. Sure, Andrew received many of the things on his list, but he’s far more concerned with what he didn’t receive. That Power Ranger he wanted, that video game system he was secretly hoping for, that new computer that all his friends are getting. The toys in front of him simply remind him of what he doesn’t have.

“This sounds childish, I know, but don’t we do the same thing? Don’t we often look at the things around us and wish we had more? Don’t we covet that new car, those new clothes, that new iPhone?”

Several people in the crowd are nodding with identification.

“What if Andy was happy with the toys in front of him? And what if we were too?” I ask rhetorically.

After a brief pause, Ryan jumps in: “We are clearly in the throes of the holiday shopping season,” he says, speaking through his handheld microphone.

“Take a look around. Malls are packed with herds of consumers. Storefronts are decorated in green and red. The jingly commercials are running nonstop. The holiday season has officially peeked its gigantic, mass-mediated noggin around the corner. It’s here, and if we rely solely on billboards and store signage, then we might believe we have to participate.

“Retailers prepare months in advance for this—preparation that’s meant to stimulate your insatiable desire to consume: Doorbuster sales. New products. Gigantic two-page ads. TV, radio, print, billboards. Sale, sale, sale! Early bird specials. One day only! Get the best deal. Act now! While supplies last.

“Joshua and I would, however, like to shed some light on this shopping—ahem, holiday—season. Each year around this time, we all feel that warm-’n’-fuzzy Christmastime nostalgia associated with the onset of winter. We break out the scarves and the gloves and the winter coats. We go ice-skating and sledding and eat hearty meals with our extended families. We take days off from work and spend time with our loved ones and give thanks for the gift of life.

“The problem is that we’ve been conditioned to associate this joyous time of year—the mittens and decorations and the family activities—with purchasing material items. We’ve trained ourselves to believe that buying stuff is an inextricable part of Christmas. We all know, however, that the holidays needn’t require gifts to be meaningful. Rather, this time of year is meaningful because of its true meaning—not the wrapped boxes we place under the tree. I’m not saying there’s anything inherently wrong or bad about gift-giving during this time of year. However, when purchasing gifts becomes the focal point of the season, we lose focus on what’s truly important.

“Instead of concentrating on holiday shopping,” Ryan continues, “I’d like to encourage you to take five steps toward a more meaningful Christmas together:

“Step one. Avoid holiday doorbuster sales. Whether it’s Black Friday or any of the subsequent big shopping weekends, it’s best to stay inside. It’s important to understand that consumption is an unquenchable thirst.Retailers and advertisers and manufacturers know this too well, and these sales are designed to take advantage of our insatiable desire to consume. Instead, support your local businesses; support the people in your community who are making a difference.

“Step two. Gift your time. If you could receive only one Christmas present this year, what would it be? The answer for me is simple: time. The best present is presence…. [Read more at The Minimalists]

“Five Steps Toward a More Meaningful Holiday Season” is an excerpt from Everything That Remains, a memoir that will be published in January.

A Rolex Won’t Give You More Time

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A friend recently emailed me to communicate the buyer’s remorse he was experiencing after purchasing an expensive watch. Even though he’s a successful entrepreneur who can afford to drop $10k on shiny wrist-ornamentation, he expressed pangs of post-purchase grief, sorrow, and regret.

But he wasn’t entirely sure why he felt this way, so he emailed me for advice. This is how I responded…

I know where you’re coming from. As a guy who has owned several expensive watches (I owned more than one fancy watch during my lotus-eating twenties, although I don’t own a one now), I understand the allure. I could of course recite a dozen platitudes here—an expensive watch can’t give you more time, a puppet who enjoys his strings still isn’t free, you are not the sum of your material possessions, our possessions possess us, etc.—but the what it really comes down to is two things: Value and Quality of Life.

In terms of Value, does the watch actually add value to your life? Or does it drain value? I’m not talking about monetary value (price is just an arbitrary measurement); I’m talking real, intrinsic value. Is that watch worth $10k of your freedom? Is it worth the emotional stress you’re going through while thinking about it?

I know these questions sound rhetorical, but they’re not. I’m currently wearing a $100 pair of jeans, and, yes, they are worth $100 of my freedom to me; they are also my only pair of jeans, ergo I get immense value from them since I wear them almost every day. Does the watch do the same for you? If so, wear it with pride. If it doesn’t, though, then you might want to ask yourself why you still own it—not why you bought it, but why you still own it. Is it a status thing? Is it part of your identity? Is it just an expensive personal logo?

At this point, the purchase is over; you needn’t beat yourself up over it because you can’t change it. It’s a sunk cost. But you can change what you do going forward if you’re not getting value from the purchase. Again, though, if you get value from the watch, if it truly enhances your life, then why not keep it?

And when… [Read more at The Minimalists]

Verified Accounts on Facebook… What took so long?

Original Article

Image taken from TechCrunch Article

Hey LOOK! Facebook finally caught up with the “Verified” hype!!!

That took a while though, right? I mean, how many times have you heard someone saying: “Dude, I’m so cool. I have David Beckham as a friend on Facebook”. And you just knew that this naivety was the result of a fake celebrity account.

Personally, I’ve been hearing people speak like that ever since I started abusing using Facebook. Once I started using Twitter, I wondered why Facebook couldn’t also “authenticate” celebrity accounts?

But I guess good things come to those who wait? Who knows, maybe they’ve found a way to not only add but maybe even improve the feature? Only time will tell… Again.

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5 WAYS TO CREATE SOLITUDE WITH MINIMALISM

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Our daily lives are filled with noise. Every day it’s getting harder to turn down the volume.

Even the places in which we used to find brief stints of solitude have been enveloped by our heavily mediated culture: airport waiting-rooms pipe “info-tainment” into our heads via overhead HD monitors, grocery-store check-out-lines drip soul-crushing pop music into our ears, and even bookstores (what’s left of them) bombard us with ambient advertisements and visual clutter at every turn.

And don’t even get me started on the things within our control, things like the TVs in our homes, our internet connections, our smartphones, our iPads, and our infinite technical “advances,” most of which cocoon our attention spans every waking moment of every day.

Often, the noise feels inescapable, un-turn-down-able, utterly overwhelming. The only way to avoid it seems to be while we’re sleeping. Or does it invade our dreams too? [Read more at The Minimalists]