I make movies in my mind.

And so do you.

We did it when we started our businesses. 

We saw ourselves calling the shots, finally doing things our way. It felt intoxicating and invigorating.

If we hadn’t been able to see it and feel it, we probably wouldn’t have had the courage to do it.

But sometimes this superpower works against me.

Like when I imagine myself moving effortlessly through a crowded room, feeling confident and energized.

Despite being a bit of an introvert, in this daydream I feel completely at ease and people gravitate toward me.

All because I’m dressed exactly right.

In my mind, it’s the clothes. That’s what’s making me feel this way. 

So the urge to buy them is almost irresistible.

And it happens with bigger things too, like a vacation or a house. 

I don’t just picture the castle in Europe. I picture the person I’ll become while staying there. Wealthy and relaxed. Interesting and sophisticated. I start craving the trip.

I don’t just visualize the perfect house and garden. I see a future version of my life where I feel peaceful, successful, and proud every time I pull into the driveway.

The clothes, vacation, house, and even the number in the bank account become props in a private scene where I finally feel successful and free.

I’ve spent a lot of time and money trying to make these scenes real.

But most of the time, once I get the thing, it doesn’t give me the feeling I expected.

I never find quite the right event for the clothes. They sit in my closet, reminding me of a life I’m not living. 

The castle is freezing. The staff are aloof and seem faintly disdainful of Americans. 

The perfect house comes with a garden that always needs attention. Instead of feeling peaceful, I feel responsible for one more thing.

What makes me want the things I want?

What I keep relearning is I’m not really buying the thing itself.

I’m trying to buy a feeling.

The Script

Long before we understand language, we learn by watching and responding to the people around us. 

What we want most of all as children is to feel safe and loved. Our survival depends on it.

We study faces, recognize familiar voices, and smile when someone smiles at us.

We notice what the people around us do, value, and respond to, and we begin doing it too. 

And this tendency doesn’t disappear when we grow up.

I see other founders admiring a certain style of house, visiting a particular place, wearing certain clothes, or reaching a financial milestone. 

Without realizing it, I begin to attach meaning to it.

If other people want it, there must be something worth wanting.

Advertising and social media doesn’t simply show me what other people have. It repeatedly shows me what attracts attention, earns approval, and creates envy.

I was never the cool kid. But my mind whispers, “Maybe it’s not too late?”

The movie feels like it’s mine, but someone else wrote the script.

The Origin Story

There’s nothing wrong with a beautiful house, a special trip, or nice clothes.

The problem is expecting something external to create the inner state I want. 

How I feel comes from the meaning I make of the world around me, not from the world itself.

On good days, I remember this and I pause before buying something and ask myself:

What feeling am I expecting this thing to give me?

Who or what taught me to associate this thing with that feeling?

And do I want the full experience, including its ordinary reality, or only the upside of the movie in my mind?

Most importantly, how else can I create the feeling I want without buying something? 

I’m practicing using my imagination in a different way. When I feel the urge to acquire, I ask myself: What can I appreciate instead?  

It doesn’t always work. Last week I still bought something I was convinced would make me feel younger.

But when it arrived, I sent it back.