The Less You Require, the Wealthier You Are
There are many ways to measure wealth.
Money.
Land.
Food.
Tools.
Comfort.
Security.
All of these matter.
But there is another accounting that is easy to overlook.
How much does the world have to provide before you can be okay?
Consider two people.
One possesses a great deal but requires nearly all of it.
The room must be the right temperature.
The food must be prepared correctly.
The coffee must contain the proper ingredients.
Entertainment must be available.
The bed must be familiar.
Plans must proceed as expected.
Other people must respond appropriately.
Take away enough pieces and their world begins to collapse.
Another person may own less.
But they can sleep in several places.
Eat several foods.
Walk when transportation fails.
Wait without needing entertainment.
Repair something instead of replacing it.
Be cold for a while.
Be hot for a while.
Be bored.
Be inconvenienced.
Drink the coffee differently.
Sit outside with nothing.
And remain themselves.
Who is wealthier?
Money still matters.
Resources still matter.
Poverty is not romantic.
Need can become suffering very quickly, and there is nothing enlightened about lacking food, shelter, medicine, safety, or the other things a human being genuinely requires.
This is not a proclamation against having things.
It is a proclamation against accidentally requiring everything you have.
There is a difference.
Enjoy the comfortable bed.
But occasionally remember that you can sleep somewhere else.
Enjoy the beautiful meal.
But know what simple food tastes like.
Own excellent tools.
But learn what your hands can accomplish without them.
Use technology.
But retain some ability to exist when the battery dies.
Have your rituals.
But inspect them occasionally.
Ask:
Is this something I enjoy?
Or:
Is this something I have begun to believe I cannot be okay without?
Those are not the same relationship.
One is enjoyment.
The other may be dependency wearing comfortable clothes.
This is why simplicity can be practiced even by someone surrounded by abundance.
Use what you need.
Waste as little as you reasonably can.
Make things serve more than one purpose when they are able.
Before acquiring another solution, look at what is already in your hands.
And every so often—
go outside.
Bring very little.
Sit down.
Let the world be slightly inconvenient.
No performance.
No suffering contest.
No declaration that comfort is corrupt.
Just visit the old teacher.
The heat will tell you that you are hot.
The cold will tell you that you are cold.
Your stomach will tell you when it is hungry.
Boredom will introduce itself.
Your mind may produce a remarkable list of things it believes should be happening instead.
Listen.
Then notice how many of those things are actually required.
You may discover that you are still sitting there.
Still breathing.
Still thinking.
Still capable of choosing what happens next.
Then go home.
Turn on the light.
Make something good to eat.
Sit in your favorite chair.
Use the excellent tool.
Enjoy the abundance.
The lesson was never that you should not have these things.
The lesson was:
You came back to them as choices.
That is a kind of wealth which does not appear on a bank statement.
Every unnecessary requirement you release gives you another circumstance in which you can remain yourself.
Every skill you learn gives you another answer besides helplessness.
Every comfort you can enjoy without fearing its absence becomes something closer to a gift.
And gifts are much easier to appreciate when they are not mistaken for oxygen.
So earn.
Build.
Own.
Enjoy.
Share.
Make your home comfortable.
Fill your life with beautiful things when you can.
But remember:
The less the world must provide before you are capable of meeting it, the larger your world becomes.
Require little.
Appreciate much.
Waste as little as you reasonably can.
And when you begin to wonder whether something has quietly become necessary—
you know where the teacher is.
Go outside.
Sit down.
See what remains.