I used to think luxury meant flying business class. Now it means walking my dog at 9am on a Monday.
If you’re like me, you’d rather fly business than coach. You’d rather stay in a beautiful hotel than a Motel 6 on the side of the highway. You’d prefer a Michelin-star restaurant to a tired-ass chain in a strip mall. Who wouldn’t?
But if I’m out in the mountains, I can bivy in the car for a night or two. Give me a tent and a decent sleeping pad and I can sleep outside for days. I’ll eat gas-station fried chicken in Mississippi just about any day of the week. I’m not that much of a snob.
This morning I woke up, meditated for 30 minutes, made coffee, did my reading and writing, and took my dog out my favorite park for a long walk. That, my friends, is my idea of luxury.
Having the freedom to design my days—especially my mornings—is the ultimate luxury. As you already know, time is our most precious resource. And one of the very few that’s truly non-renewable.
It’s also the only resource we all have a finite supply of. The richest guy on earth, twenty or thirty years older than me, would trade millions to buy some of it back.
Yesterday I had lunch with my in-laws at their retirement community and on Sundays they have this amazing brunch buffet that I love. I’d gone through the buffet line faster than everyone else and while I was back at the table I took some time to look around at everyone in the restaurant. Most of the community is made up of vibrant, smart, kind people. But as it’s a retirement community, most people’s bodies are no longer operating at peak performance.
“This is coming for you too buddy” I thought. Before long it will be harder to walk, hold a fork, or cut open a sweet potato. Sitting up straight, hearing clearly, even seeing who’s at the next table will be a challenge. This happens to EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US.
If I know for sure this fate is coming, I’d like to use my body while I still can - for traveling with my wife, climbing mountains, and walking my dog. I’ve accepted the temporary nature of ALL things and am (usually) OK with it.
Yes, the very nature of work is to trade our time (and expertise) for money. But how much money—and where we spend it—are the real questions to ask ourselves.
For me, the ultimate luxury is owning my time. Yeah, I’ve got to cover the basics—food, bills, a little cushion for when things go sideways—but no fucking way am I burning the good years of this working body behind a laptop.
I don’t want to demonize all time spent working. I love 95% of my work! I just aim to do it when I want.
You know this already: traditional luxury’s a trap. The marketing machine is incredibly adept at tricking us into spending all of our money on their stuff which keeps us working for many years beyond what is necessary.
Don’t believe that shit. The most rare and finite resources are not gold or diamonds. They are time and health.