Now that I make less money, I don’t want things
Not because I can’t have them.
Things, they stress me out.
They create decisions and distractions I don’t think I need. Even the things that hold sentimental value burden me daily. Books are not things, but even those I lend and give and swap and share, because I can’t own knowing nor do I want to try.
I have little interest in the magic of tidying up, I just don’t want to be weighed down.
Thinking about things —wanting them, acquiring them, having them, storing them, tossing them— can dampen a good day and turn an okay day bad. I’m no minimalist; my existence is filled with indulgences of all kinds. I just try to make sure they aren’t things, because things stress me out.
It took me going freelance, moving to a place with a low cost of living and universal healthcare, and spending half of my savings on a passion project — the only thing-that’s-not-a-thing I’ve ever been remotely proud of — to realize this. But now that I have much less money than I did working a 9–6 corporate job, I don’t crave ownership.
I’m on Instagram. I see the things. I see people seeing and wanting and buying and posting the things. Hell, I even like the things. They look nice. I just don’t want them.