On Simplicity and Peace of Mind

Sometimes, I wonder how I can be so content and at peace while possessing so little. Am I so broken that I conform to whatever happens to me? I feel lost AF, only momentarily…

I close my eyes and immediately evoke clarity. I hear nothing. I’m safe and at peace. My thoughts are nurturing, calm, uplifting. I can focus and bring up some of my troubles and problems, but they’re just challenges—gifts for growth—and I’m eager to work on them.

Sometimes, I’m blocked from progressing—waiting for something else, like a piece of mail to arrive—and I’m unable to act. That’s fine. That’s great, actually. Other issues, like lowering my debts or being able to spend more time with my daughter, are solved with patience. If I do nothing—if I desist from going out, eating out, buying this or that—I’ll be fine. I’ll meet my financial goals.

I can call my daughter when she leaves school. In the long term, I’ll have her over the holidays. Patience and temperance are the solution.

I need to do nothing. This is great.

My body is calm, lying unbothered in my bed. Nothing hurts. My health is with me. I invest heavily in being strong and healthy—in time, effort, food, and sleep. I eat whole foods—limiting my diet in ways that seem obvious now. I work out five times a week, which keeps me busy, sharp, and disciplined. Here’s my current training split.

I’ve learned to do hard things. I possess so few material objects, but I possess so much strength, agility, discipline, temperance, and willpower. I play basketball, box, do martial arts, or dance at least twice a week—keeping me young at heart, playful, competitive. My daughter loves our dance parties; we can dance for hours.

I reassess:

Do I possess so little?

Maybe materially, yes. But in every other way— I’m rich.

I have so many tools. So much privilege in my experiences. I use mental abstractions to harness willpower, transmute anger, channel discomfort into growth. Sometimes, I just rest and chill—guilt-free.

Am I broken because I need so little?

Or is our world broken for making us believe we need so much more than the basics—good food, good company, hugs, friendships, hobbies, time off, time to do nothing, time to learn shit that matters?

I wonder if I’m broken because I don’t want to conquer the world. Or maybe… maybe I am conquering my world. And that’s OK.

I’m confused momentarily. Then it hits me like a truck: Comparing myself to the so-called conquerors of the world was fucking up my perspective. Maybe comparison itself is one of our biggest diseases.

I don’t know for sure. But I stopped comparing myself to them—and just returned to my peaceful, content state. Rich. Whole. Enough.

But… am I whole?

I’m 37 years old. Single. I don’t feel like I need a girlfriend or a partner. Is that OK? Am I broken? Am I abnormal? What the fuck is wrong with me? Everybody needs sex, right? Everybody needs a partner, right?

I don’t know. I’m so at peace. I don’t watch porn. My occasional solo sessions feel deep and fulfilling—mind-muscle connections, lol. Is that weird? Maybe. But it feels good. Being alone feels good.

Hmmmm…

I don’t even know why I’m writing this. But it feels so natural. So right. I’m so content. I’ll probably fall asleep right here where I’m sitting.

Being stress-free is intoxicating. I’m high on peace.

Maybe I’m not broken at all. Maybe the world needs a few more broken ones like me—People who choose peace, patience, and simplicity over chaos.

Maybe the real brokenness is thinking we ever needed more than this:

• A clear mind.
• A heart at rest.
• A soul willing to dance.

I smile. I breathe. I feel the air on my skin and the quiet beating of my heart. I realize: I’m not missing anything. I am—right now—complete.

Originally published on Medium.