I hate working. Not that I’m lazy. Well, not exactly. But I hate getting up at a certain time, having to go out in whatever weather, drive my truck and spend 8 hours or more doing something I’d rather not be doing but still trying to do it the best I can, and then drive my truck home so I can scurry around trying to get done what needs to get done, and hopefully find time to do something I want to do, and then go to bed so I can start all over again in the morning. And then a good share of what the employer decides to pay me goes to a government I don’t always agree with (at any level), and some more goes to a retirement fund I doubt I’ll ever see, and still more goes to the costs of just getting to that job – vehicle, gas, insurance, maintenance, clothes.
One has to wonder why people work. I mean, really. We all need shelter, but what kind? Is it necessary to have a huge house with lots of expensive stuff – which, in order to afford it, we spend more time away from it (at work) than enjoying it? We all have to eat, but again, how much food is gotten at fast food or restaurants while we’re out doing something that keeps us from that expensive house? We could grow vegetables or learn to eat cheaply at home. Probably more healthy, as well.
But then there are the “things” we want. Huge televisions, iPods, fancy clothes, vacations at the “in” places, a golf cart, toys to spoil the children and make them realize how important it is to work hard and do well at school so they can get a good job and buy more of the stuff we’ve inundated them with throughout their childhood.
I no longer like “stuff”. It clutters up life. Not to mention the house. At one point in my life, I had a lot of stuff. And I lost it all. And I was devastated. Sometimes now I think of something I had and realize it’s gone, and I feel bad, but then I realize also that I hadn’t missed it until that moment, so it wasn’t something I really needed, and maybe even my “want” wasn’t as strong as I had thought when I got it. I have my computer, and some clothes that I’ll probably wear until they fall off my body. I can eat on less than $30 a week, and my monthly living expenses are basically a week’s pay.
And I think in many ways, I’m as happy, and many times even happier, than when I had all that “stuff”.
Stuff begets stuff. The more you have, the more you want. And the more you worry about losing it. And so you work harder, at jobs that you like less and less, until you get older and realize that it really wasn’t worth it. You’re retired – you sell the huge expensive house because you (and partner if you have one) don’t need that much room. You get rid of a lot of the furniture – most of it you realize you didn’t really like anyway (that couch was sooo uncomfortable). The knick-knacks are sold, given away, or thrown – they just gathered dust. You get older, and you want to simplify, enjoy the things you hadn’t had time for before – because you were working so hard to have the stuff that now you find cumbersome.
I almost learned too late. I almost lost my chance to enjoy the things I hadn’t had time for before while I was young enough to *really* enjoy them. Soon, I want to buy an old school bus, or maybe an old RV to refurbish, and then I’ll be able to travel around. Work for a while, here and there, to pay my expenses, and then move on again.
Maybe I won’t have a lot of stuff to leave to my son when I’m gone. I definitely won’t have any money to leave him. But maybe, just maybe, I can teach him one more thing.
Maybe I can teach him that life is now.
Don’t waste it.