Looking back on my perspective of things, it's fascinating to see how our society has evolved over the last century. We've gradually, but surely, veered away from the notion that more material possessions equate to a better life. I consider this mindset, once common but now fading, still evident in the views of some like Andrew Tate, who is constantly flexing his Bugatti collection.
The crux of my realization lies in the understanding that an excess of possessions, or stuff as we often call it, isn't always beneficial. Of course, there's a caveat. At first glance, you might think that having a yacht, for instance, would make me happier. To some extent, yes, the freedom to sail whenever I want or throw yacht parties does sound enticing.
Yet, what we often overlook is the downside to these material gains. Having something that enormous also means having a huge liability. The ownership isn't just physical but comes with an emotional and spiritual burden. There are constant bills to pay, maintenance to keep up with, and a persistent nagging question in the back of your mind, "Did I utilize it enough to justify the cost?"
And it's not just about yachts. This concept extends to multiple properties and luxury cars. While multiple houses might seem like a good investment, especially if you are renting them out, there's no escaping the problems that come along with it. Tenant issues, property management complications, it can all be a real headache if not handled properly.
On a similar note, the automobile industry feeds on our fear of missing out (FOMO). The joy of a new car often fades within months, replaced by the yearning for a newer model with better specs. There's an endless comparison game in play, consuming mental energy that could have been used more productively.
Of course, this isn't to say all forms of investment are negative. Diversified investment in assets, if done right, may not demand constant attention or trigger worry when one stock doesn't perform well.
But material possessions, they have a way of creating an unhealthy obsession, and it's not just us, even our children can be affected by this, especially if we fail to instill in them values beyond materialism.
I've come to find that the best use of time and money lies in experiences, particularly travel. Visiting friends, building relationships, gathering people together, these are priceless experiences that offer a far greater return on investment than the latest Mercedes-Benz model, which will likely become outdated in a few years, if not months.
As I started prioritizing experiences over material possessions, I began to experience a profound sense of liberation. Traveling light with just a backpack and a duffel bag became my new norm. There's an unmatchable joy and simplicity in living out of a single bag. Each item I carried held purpose, and there was an absence of excess that felt refreshingly honest. It was as if a physical weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and with it, the mental and emotional weight that comes from the constant upkeep of unnecessary possessions. This minimalist approach to travel wasn't just about less baggage; it was a physical representation of the lighter, more conscious life I was choosing to lead.
In essence, my journey has led me to understand that material possessions are overrated. What truly matters in life are the connections we build, the experiences we gather, and the values we uphold.