Sometimes, standing inside a Costco or a Target or an airport terminal feels like standing in a cathedral to material abundance. But there is no soul.
We are surrounded by more choices, more access, more “solutions,” more of everything than any humans have ever known. And yet the spiritual signal feels faint. The emotional texture feels flat. The air feels heavy with something we cannot quite name.
Let’s talk about that.
Abundance Without Alignment
We have achieved logistical magic. Strawberries in December. Bluetooth toothbrushes. Eighteen kinds of trail mix. But the soul has not kept pace. So the result is strange. We have more, and we feel less.
- Overwhelm instead of gratitude.
- Convenience instead of connection.
- Surplus instead of sufficiency.
We are drowning in options and starving for meaning.
Excess as a Stand-In for Security
We buy more than we need not because we are greedy, but because we are afraid.
- If I own enough, I will not feel the void.
- If I plan enough, I will not be caught off guard.
- If I stockpile, I will not be left behind.
Excess becomes a trauma response dressed up as preparation.
The Myth of Optimization
Modern excess hides inside the language of intelligence. Costco does not just sell in bulk. It sells a story.
- You are wise.
- You are efficient.
- You are prepared.
- You are in control.
But often, the more we optimize, the more we distance ourselves from intimacy. Intimacy with our time, our food, our objects, and our needs.
Boredom at the Peak
When everything is available, and every craving can be met instantly, something strange happens.
- Pleasure becomes bland.
- Sufficiency becomes invisible.
- The soul becomes parched.
We solved for the body and forgot the mystery. This is the natural end of a culture obsessed with solving problems it invented.
What Is Beneath the Excess
A question hums beneath it all.
If we can have everything, why does it feel like we have so little?
This is not a cynical question. It is a sacred one. It is the beginning of seeing clearly.
The world is not wrong. But it is not enough. Because it was not designed for the whole human being. It was designed for consumers.
The Return to Essence
What we long for is not necessarily less. We want more of the right kind of fullness.
- A chair you love, not four you tolerate.
- A meal you make with your hands, not one cooked for convenience.
- A life with fewer rows in the spreadsheet and more moments that stop you in your tracks.
This is about resonance instead of volume.
Meaning instead of options.
Stillness instead of scroll.
A Final Image
Costco is a temple of excess. Seeing it clearly without falling asleep inside it is a quiet act of spiritual strength. It does not require judgment. Only presence.
Because in a world of too much, the rebel is the one who says:
Enough. This moment is already full.