“Help. Can you pull me up?”
That plea echoes louder than it seems. It’s not just a dramatic moment—it’s a metaphor for something real. A slow, constant weight that drags people down without them even noticing. That weight is materialism.
When someone says they can’t help because “you’re too heavy,” they’re not talking about body weight. They’re talking about the accumulation of things, the clutter that fills garages, closets, and digital carts. The weight of chasing fulfillment through purchases. Of trying to feel complete by acquiring more.
It’s easy to mistake possessions for progress. A new gadget, a better car, another pair of shoes—it can feel like you’re building a life. But if you’re honest with yourself, how many of those things still bring real satisfaction after a few weeks? Most are quick dopamine hits. Temporary highs. And then the void creeps back in.
Materialism masks itself as joy. The packages, the upgrades, the novelty. But it becomes a loop. You chase the next thing to escape discomfort, boredom, or insecurity. But the next thing never fills the gap. It only distracts you from noticing it.
In the story, even the call for help gets drowned out by another delivery. A bouncy house. Something exciting, maybe even fun. But it doesn’t address the real issue. It becomes one more distraction, one more pound added to the emotional weight.
“Buy more stuff. Only 37 times a month.” That line stings because it feels familiar. It’s the voice of advertising. Of impulse. Of false need.
So what do you do when you realize the weight is self-inflicted?
You stop. You look around. You ask what you’re really carrying. You start trading excess for clarity. Attention for awareness. You realize you don’t need another object—you need presence, purpose, connection.
You may not save yourself in one day, but you can begin. You can choose to let go. You can recognize that help might not come from above but from within. And that freedom isn’t found in adding more—it’s found in needing less.
When the noise quiets, what’s left is space. And in that space, maybe for the first time, you can breathe.
