I Just Quit Amazon

Quite a few years ago when I was shopping for a digital reader, a writer girlfriend of mine told me point blank to not get a Kindle because Amazon is evil. She had specifics to back up this statement, and I trusted her. I also trusted myself — love it or hate it, I'm rarely a mainstream girl.

So I ordered a Nook, the e-reader made by Barnes & Noble. I'm also an author, and was glad to support my publisher (Barnes & Noble is the parent company of Sterling, who published Elegant Wire Jewelry). I can't quite get every book on my Nook, but it serves my needs nonetheless while putting one more vote in the diversity pool.

Jump ahead a few more years. By this point I'm fully immersed in small town living. My cross-country art fair travels have ended. I've adapted to shopping locally for the most part, with lots of online ordering for jewelry tools and supplies. I do my best to truly shop locally, limiting my "down-the-hill" trips to malls and big box stores to a few times a year. I made it a point to shop at boutiques and support my local book stores. I buy directly from farmers and several local medicine makers. I try to support the type of world I want to live in.

And then, something shifted. I'm not even sure what. It feels like everyone I knew was talking about ordering from Amazon. Raving about the convenience, the low prices and the rapid delivery times. "Down-the-hill" trips to larger areas can take a few hours to the whole day. Imagine saving that time and energy while receiving anything you need or want in only 2 days?

It rubbed off on me. I joined Prime so there were no shipping fees. I could order kitchen appliances, exotic ingredients, books, electronics... all kinds of things. I still shopped locally, but I would find myself wondering if I could find an item cheaper on Amazon. I started to prize price over my personal values and sense of community.

Around this time I started struggling a lot with finances, which perpetuated this loop of relying on deals more. I also opened a local business, and really wanted people to come to a physical location and support our mission. Our prices were higher than Amazon. Sometimes by a lot. There's just no way to compete.

Still I persisted, justifying my Amazon relationship by buying things that I wouldn't even know where to find in a store. When Whole Foods sold out to Amazon, I was shocked and dismayed. I read an article in the New York Times that shed light on the different values of these companies. Amazon didn't look (or feel) good.

And still (*face palm*), this small-town-store owner and independent artist didn't give up her Amazon membership. My heart felt sick, but I had full on bought into the story that this is what it takes to live in a small town where everything isn't readily available (or is a bit more expensive).

What woke me up? What finally got me to realign with my values? My fiancée read an article about Amazon and became outraged about how they treat employees. At that point I felt a twinge of shame. Everyday I choose to not support Monsanto or GMO food anything and other environmental choices. I vote with my choices. I try to buy conscientious clothing and so many other things. I could vote for better workplace treatment and for the type of companies I want to see thrive by canceling Amazon.

It felt weirdly intense to do it. Amazon had become my bit of mainstream. The place where I fit into the norm. Here I go being alternative again....I decided to not make a big social deal about it, but I do at times bring it up with friends. It's a complicated issue, and I love discussing the aspects that can seem so good — Amazon does provide a lot of jobs. They also provide a lot of packaging. And if you ever have a return, it's weird when they don't want the item back. Like it's not worth their money. Ultimately it feels like a solely profit-driven company with not many other values.

For the past several months I've been doing some deep shadow work around finances and my money issues. The work is going well. It's enlightening, and I'm breaking through blocks.

What does that have to do with quitting Amazon? Well, let's just say that my financial flow has changed dramatically. I made a choice for my own life that united my heart and my will. With those two in alignment, I experience less neediness, less feeling of lack, and a better sense of love and personal ethics in my decision making and choices. I'm feeling more like myself — my abundant, prosperous, supportive-of-small-businesses-and-artists self.

Will I never order from Amazon again? That's a tough one. I can't say "never" because many manufacturers and even artists and writers have found good exposure and distribution channels with Amazon. But I'll do my best. Amazon is a powerful search engine, so sometimes I'll use it as a tool and do my buying elsewhere. I still buy online, but I find myself exploring more broadly with other values aside from cheap prices supporting my searches.

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Taking Life from Mundane to Magickal

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Surrender to What's Beckoning