Extreme Minimalist Lifestyles

Minimalism at its most extreme is being homeless. The homeless have no place to put their things with any security. And so, they have nothing.

Yet they survive still, you see. Unless crippled by drug or alcohol abuse, or mental illness, which many homeless unfortunately are. Or why else would you be homeless, living outside like a dog? Unless you’re a bit outside your mind.

But you can be homeless to your benefit. If you’ll work, and keep clear your head. Especially to-day, with the cost of living—even just the basics to stay alive, food, shelter, and clothing—so high and only rising.

Since shelter is by far the largest expense of modern life, if you live outside, and work, you can save some money very quickly, having to pay nothing for a place to lay your head.

We only make so much at our 9-to-5 jobs, now, afterall. And the cost of housing is a proportionally large chunk of the money an average income makes in the area in which you live—the scam it is. If stuck working a job at average income,—which many are who’ve not attended university, well below average even—paying for shelter leaves only a tiny amount of cash remaining from your paycheck. And then after you pay for food and the utility bills,—gas, electric, water, phone—you’ve no money left to save—and nevermind healthcare!

Or even so, if you did attend college. You go to where are jobs. But to live in these areas is proportionally just as expensive. You make more at work, sure, with your college degree. But you pay more to live too.



It’s a vicious cycle really. And so you stay stuck where you are,—wherever you are—paying for shelter, stuck working in order to afford it all. You have no opportunity to get ahead, to save some real cash, to afford the opportunity to free yourself from work, in order to give yourself more time, in order to more freely pursue that which it is you truly want.

Most often, you don’t even know what it is you truly want. You’re too busy to think. And it takes a quiet mind to discover. What you do in that silence, that’s what you’re meant to do. But you never get silent,—all distracted—rushing all round constantly, only in order to afford more distractions.

So you go homeless. You get rid of all your possessions. You keep your job however. You work. You sleep outside. And you save money.

And if you’re lucky to have a decent job, you save money quickly. But even at minimum-wage, because you’re spending nearly no money,—only on food—you save money quickly enough. You stash your cash.

Life outside is very exhausting. Other bums. And cops. You must always be looking over your shoulder. The weather will be harsh too, all exposed to it out there.

So you buy the cheapest place you can, as soon as you can. What’s it matter it’s only a room? It has walls, and a door. You are protected from that weather at least. And that’s enough.

You drop the job, if you’ve saved enough. Or you find an easier job. One where you work less hours. You only need money now to afford your tiny rent. If you’ve not already stashed enough of what you’ve hopefully saved.

And finally your time is yours. And now you really begin to work. You’ve bought yourself some freedom, some time to work uninterruptedly. Right through the bottom you fell, like a blackhole being homeless, out through the other side, left with nothing but to create.



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