Tea and a Truth Biscuit: Souvenirs and Such

Shopping. Collecting. Souvenirs.

Why are you buying souvenirs?

Is it your ego?

Are you proud you’re on vacation when someone else isn’t?

Do you want to “support the local community”?

Will the souvenir serve as a reminder that you were there?

Why?

And eventually… who’s going to throw away that sh*t?

I’m just here to question everything.

There was absolutely a time in my life when I bought souvenirs for family, friends, and coworkers.

Not anymore.

Primarily because most of my immediate family is dead. I have only a few friends and exactly zero coworkers. Okay, technically David is my coworker—but the f*cker is already here on the adventure with me. giggles

These days, I choose to collect memories, not physical stuff.

David and I don’t own a house, a car, or a boat. In fact, we own very few belongings. We travel around the planet with a backpack and a carry-on.

And I f*cking love that.

Now, this isn’t a judgment of people who buy souvenirs. Buy the damn snow globe if it brings you joy. This is simply a reflection of how Holistic Scaffolding™ has helped me examine my own choices and ask:

Why am I doing this?

Is it my ego?

Am I buying something because I’m proud that I got to go somewhere? No really. I still have an ego. Of course I do. The difference is that I’m much more aware of when that little f*cker shows up and what it’s trying to tell me.

And here’s another distinction that has become important to me:

David and I are not on vacation. We live a life that is increasingly aligned with our True Selves. This IS our life.

And that is my wish for every human on this planet—not that you travel like us, live out of a suitcase, or get rid of all your belongings.

My wish is that you question everything.

Shed the layers of bullsh*t programming and conditioning.

And create a life designed for you, by YOU.

Not by a corporation.

Not by a social media platform.

Not by somebody else’s expectations.

And certainly not by dreams or fears that were programmed into you before you ever stopped to ask whether they were actually yours.

But what about “supporting the local community”?

This one has shifted enormously for me over the last few years. Of course I want to support local people. But I’ve started questioning whether buying another mass-produced tchotchke is always the best way to do that.

Sometimes it might be.

But personally, I’ve discovered that I would often rather simply give someone money without expecting a product, a service, or anything else in return.

No transaction.

No little object I need to carry around the planet.

Just giving.

That feels more aligned for me.

But won’t it remind you of the trip?

Sometimes. And because we own so little, when I do buy something, I choose very carefully.

I ask:

Is it practical?

Will I actually use it?

For example, when we were in Peru, I bought a couple of beautiful alpaca wraps.

And I used the hell out of those things last winter in Prescott Valley, Arizona.

They weren’t decorations. They became part of my life. That feels different to me.

But buying a little tchotchke just so I can put it on a shelf or hang it on a wall?

Well…

David and I don’t own a house.

Which means we don’t actually have a wall. Or a shelf.

So for me, that stuff has become pretty meaningless.

I’d much rather collect the memory.

Take the photo.

Remember the people.

Remember the smell of the market.

Remember laughing with David.

Remember how something felt.

Those memories don’t weigh anything, don’t take up space in a suitcase, and don’t eventually end up in somebody’s dumpster or donation pile.

And then there’s the question nobody likes to ask…

Who’s going to throw away that sh*t?

This has been a huge shift for me over the last decade.

You went to Paris.

You bought a little Eiffel Tower.

Wonderful.

You treasured it for years.

Maybe decades.

And then what?

Eventually, someone has to decide what the hell to do with it.

That sounds morbid.

It’s not meant to be.

It’s awareness.

Almost everything we accumulate eventually becomes someone else’s decision.

Keep it?

Sell it?

Donate it?

Throw it away?

And once I really understood that, my relationship with physical stuff changed.

I don’t need an object to prove I was somewhere.

I don’t need an object to prove I lived.

I don’t need another thing to validate an experience.

I was there.

I experienced it.

I lived it.

That’s enough.

Wisdom Nugget

Maybe the question isn’t:

“Should I buy this souvenir?”

Maybe the better question is:

“Why do I want it?”

And then listen.

Not to your programming.

Not to what you’ve always done.

Not to what tourists are “supposed” to do.

Listen to your True Self.

If she wants the damn alpaca wrap—buy it.

If she doesn’t need another Eiffel Tower collecting dust on a shelf…

Walk away.

And collect the memory instead.

I love all you people.

Love and ((HUGS)),

Laura Foster, Founder of Souls Healing Humanity