An hour after I looked around my living room and declared that I had pretty much anything I could need for the outdoors, I was back on Amazon.<\/p>\n
You know how it goes. You get to a place in your gear ownership that feels just right, but the porridge eventually cools.<\/p>\n
This is when perceived deficiencies drip into the consciousness.<\/p>\n
“I could _______ if I had ________.”<\/p>\n
It’s easy to justify purchases when you add safety and comfort to the equation.<\/p>\n
“These waders kinda leak and water can cause hypothermia, so better get new ones.”<\/p>\n
Sure some Aquaseal is $6.99, but how can you turn down an excuse for new waders?<\/p>\n
[‘The sticker guy’: Stick to something, or fall for nothing]<\/a><\/ins><\/p>\n In addition to unreasonable justification for gear and such, projection is another sneaky motivator. You buy the thing that represents the lifestyle you want to live, or the thing you want to do, but don’t. You project attributes of a life you wish you had.<\/p>\n After talking to a couple buddies on my podcast about backcountry skiing, I thought it would be cool if, I too, was touring around the slopes on skis affixed with skins. (Yeah, I’m happy about my new vocabulary words.)<\/p>\n But, would I really get out the door and up a mountain with enough frequency to validate the cost? I’m not passionate about skiing because I haven’t done it much and being a novice is often frustrating and painful — some of the best excuses to quit.<\/p>\n There’s a weird self-doubt quality here. There’s being honest with yourself and there’s limiting yourself. If you say you weren’t meant to do something, that could be a lie. You might just use that as a warm cuddly excuse to not push yourself through the novice period. I didn’t hunt until I was in my 30s. Now I’m practicing my bow daily for a bow-only moose hunt in August. I really took to hunting and now do it as much as I fish. Could skiing fit in there too? Maybe.<\/p>\n