We buy into things. What things? All things. Even the things we don’t buy but get for free.

For instance, let’s say you buy a shirt. How many times will you wash that shirt in the time you own it? How much water and soap and electricity will that cost? How much added labor will you expend to fold it and put it away?

Furthermore, we buy into the idea of that shirt. That that shirt will serve us. That it will keep us warm. That it will serve the need that we have. That without that particular shirt that need will be unfulfilled.

And, when it no longer served you, did you give it away? Did you take it out of the drawer? Did you drive it to a thrift store? Did you hand it to a friend? Tear it up into rags? How much time did that take?

Perhaps you put it in the garbage. Do you hire a garbage company or does the city handle that through your taxes?

The moment that shirt entered your life you bought into that shirt. You paid for it in a myriad of ways far beyond it’s actual value.

Ownership of anything is a commitment to that thing and it has a cost — a direct personal cost — beyond the cost of the thing.

The harder question to answer is this: Was it worth it?