Like the very nice in the suburbs with the huge garden won’t bring you much joy if you always come home after dark and never have time to play with the kids outside our having friends over because your commute and the need to work long hours to afford it.
On the other hand, it brings me great joy just strolling around the garden watching everything growing or picking raspberries with my 3 year old son. So of course, in a sense, the house and the garden brings me joy.
Or take another example. I have a nice $300 fountain pen. It brings me a little bit of joy every time I pick it up to write with it, just because the nib has the right amount of flex and it balances so well in my hand, the surface is soft but not slippery, etc. And I make sure that I have reason to use it for note taking and journaling, because it wouldn’t make me happy with dried ink in a drawer, or just looking nice in a stand on the top of my desk.
So, it’s not that things are unimportant. Not at all. But I think we need to think about how they bring us happiness, because it is not the ownership in itself. (Then I’m certain that there is a class of people who thrives from a warm cozy feeling of just staring at a bank statement with a large positive amount.)