So much of marketing (and therefore so much of the money and energy traps you fall into) have to do with the immediate appeal of some kind of elusive specialness. They keep you coming back to the thought that maybe, after all, after all these years, years of daily evidence to the contrary, that maybe you have some kind of hidden superpower that will finally be revealed and you can leave all these stupid mortals in the dust. If you just buy this one more thing. This one more thing and then you're done. But here's the thing. Let's say, just as an example because of this article I just read, that the one more thing you bought was climbing equipment, and you got really good at climbing (I know that's probably not the progression someone interested in climbing would really follow, but bear with me just for the sake of the example), and you went out to Yellowstone and you were feeling like a champ, and then [this guy][1] passed you: > Astroman also has a terrifying “squeeze chimney,” a slot big enough for a climber to slip his entire body inside and so narrow that he cannot turn his head. To move upward, he must wriggle and writhe, always at risk of slipping. Honnold practiced these routes with ropes a half-dozen times. He finally free-soloed them in September 2007, passing astonished roped climbers, who then spread the word. Whoops. You just got demoted back to mortal. At some point you just have to accept what the guy who wrote that penny whistle book said: "There will always be somebody better and worse than you." The best you can do is the best you can do at something you love. To give in to the urge to follow a path you love, even if you're not guaranteed to be the best, is another form of vulnerability. Endless purchasing is a symptom of the kind of defensive jealousy that leaves you with a string of regrets and isolation, while some *other* imperfect schlump--maybe one not even as qualified as you--is schtupping your lover like some kind of god. maybe you're not ambitious enough. Maybe you're not competitive enough. But maybe there's a difference between discovering through striving and practicing where your craft can take you, and ascendancy and status for its own sake. <!-- awkward; reword that --> After all, if you choose a thing to do based on a plan to beat people at it, it's possible you'll choose the wrong thing, and fail both at beating people *and* at fulfilling your "soul" or whatevs. Who knows, maybe if I had super high scores in a bunch of character traits, I wouldn't need all this mushy rationalization. I could just pick something and excel at it for the heck of it, and laugh at people who cared. Maybe balance and serenity are for the weak. But something (maybe just conventional wisdom) tells me that there are levels of depth that only a heartfelt interest can take you down to. Getting carried away with your own awesomeness can only lead to getting insecure about your own awesomeness, and that can only lead you away from the truly awesome thing your childlike self started following after, enchanted, in the first place. So skip the extra gadget, save some money, and get back to enchantment. [1]: http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/11/magazine/the-heart-stopping-climbs-of-alex-honnold.html#