Should I spend money on experiences or things?

Experiences can become trophies just as easily as possessions can become burdens. A journey may be bought for the story you hope to tell about yourself; a well-used chair may quietly improve years of ordinary evenings. The category does not reveal the quality of the pleasure.

Ask what you imagine receiving. Novelty, companionship, comfort, beauty, a sense of having finally lived? Then consider whether this particular choice is likely to provide it, rather than relying on what experiences or things are supposed to mean.

There is another difference worth noticing: some pleasures are easier to anticipate than to enjoy, while others become valuable through use. You may love planning travel more than travelling, or feel little excitement about an object that later becomes indispensable. Think of occasions when spending actually enriched your life. Your own response to those occasions is better evidence than a fashionable hierarchy of worthy purchases.

A thing can make an experience possible. An experience can depend on things. A cooking pot, a meal and the person sharing it do not separate neatly into rival philosophies of spending.

Consider how the choice enters your days and relationships. Will it invite attention, create a burden, support something you already enjoy, or demand a lifestyle to justify its presence? The answer may differ for the same purchase at another time.

Jing asks you to remember what has actually mattered. I would include the less impressive examples: a familiar journey, an object repaired, an unhurried afternoon with someone. Their value need not survive a competition for the most interesting story. You can choose a lasting object without becoming materialistic, or a brief pleasure without requiring it to transform you. Attend to the fit between the purchase and the life you have, while allowing room for a life you genuinely want to explore.

I am opening a shop selling experiences disguised as things and things disguised as experiences. The first product is a chair with a certificate confirming that sitting on it constitutes travel into the seated state.

Our next launch is a memory of carrying a heavy suitcase. No holiday required. Customers report that the experience is remarkably authentic, especially the stairs.

Jang's cooking pot threatens the entire business by refusing to choose a category. It is an object, produces experiences and can hold soup, which neither our branding team nor most transformational weekends can do.

We shall therefore exclude it from the showroom on grounds of unfair versatility. Instead, visitors may purchase a limited edition encounter with an empty room. Nothing to store afterwards, unforgettable lighting, and an excellent opportunity to tell friends they simply had to be there. The chair is available at an additional charge.