As I dig into my 51st year, one thing has become very clear: I’ve become a minimalist. I really can’t pinpoint when or how this happened, but suffice it to say I have a very ordered and uncluttered life.
I live in a decent sized bachelor apartment containing items that likely wouldn’t fetch $500 if I were to sell it all tomorrow. My walls are void of pictures and there is ample walking room due to my lack of typical furniture such as sofas, recliners, and the like.
I own a bicycle, bed, a cheap $70 camera, a couple ancient desks containing computers assembled from scrounged or gifted parts, and the bare essentials for kitchen ware.
I have no need for insurance as everything I own wouldn’t add up to the premiums I would pay over the years. I have no need for money over and above what I need for basic survival. Since I make and spend less, I pay the least amount in taxes of just about anyone I know.
I have no desire for travel outside my own country, no need for vehicles (beyond my bicycle), no need for stylish clothing, no need to seek relationships, and no need for approval from anyone.
I desire less and am happier for it. This is a close to freedom as I can get.
And you know what? That’s good enough for me!