On contentment, living in a tent, and the possibility that sometimes we search for happiness in all the wrong places.
🙈 Sometimes I feel a little foolish.
For years, I thought I had to make it. Become financially successful, become independent, build something for myself. I wanted more opportunities, more freedom, and, above all, the feeling that I would never have to worry about not having enough.
I thought that once I had enough, I would finally feel content.
Now, sometimes, I sit in my tent and wonder why I spent so long believing that I needed more.
It’s not that I suddenly think money is unimportant. Being able to pay your bills, buy food without worrying, and have a little financial breathing room makes a difference. Security matters.
But at some point, I started questioning something: Why do we so often believe that we have to achieve more before we are allowed to be content?
We Were Already Happy, Weren’t We?
When I look back, I remember so many beautiful moments that cost very little. Time spent in nature, simple things, shared experiences. Moments when, in many ways, everything we needed to be happy was already there.
And yet, there were worries. Would the money last? What would happen next? What if something went wrong?
The strange thing is that both can exist at the same time: contentment and fear.
Perhaps many of us know that feeling. We experience something beautiful, but part of our mind is already somewhere else — tomorrow, next month, or all the things we still need to take care of.
Sometimes I wonder how many beautiful moments we only experience halfway because we are busy worrying about a future that hasn’t even arrived.
No, I don’t believe we can simply think our worries away. Some problems are real and need real solutions.
But perhaps it is still worth asking ourselves what we genuinely lack — and what we only miss because we believe we are supposed to have it.
My Home Has No Four Walls
For some time now, I have been living mostly in a tent. To some people, that probably sounds like adventure, freedom, and a life full of extraordinary experiences.
In reality, my everyday life is rather ordinary.
I work, prepare my meals, go for walks, and spend a lot of time on my own. I don’t need constant entertainment, and I don’t need something special to happen every day. My little tent has become a place where I feel comfortable.
Of course, it isn’t always convenient. There is rain, wind, and the occasional moment when I wish I had a little more comfort. I don’t want to romanticise tent life.
But I have discovered that I can get by with surprisingly little. I don’t need to keep buying new things to make my everyday life enjoyable. And I don’t have to fill every free moment with something.
Perhaps that is the biggest difference from the way I used to think: I have less, but I don’t automatically experience that as a lack.
I have no idea how long I will continue living this way. Perhaps that will change one day. I don’t want to turn a particular way of living into a lifelong commitment.
Right now, it feels right. And for now, that is enough.
I’m Becoming More and More Primitive 🙈
Sometimes I have to laugh at myself.
I sit on the ground, sleep on a thin sleeping mat, and no longer even own a chair. Things that would once have seemed uncomfortable have gradually become part of my everyday life.
You can get used to a lot. You learn to work with what you have. And sometimes, along the way, you discover that something you once thought you absolutely needed isn’t all that important after all.
Perhaps I really am becoming more primitive.
Or perhaps my standards are simply changing.
When you live with less for long enough, your relationship with possessions begins to shift. You stop asking yourself what else could make life more comfortable. Sometimes you realise that life is already comfortable enough.
And suddenly, there is room for a question that can easily get lost in everyday life:
How much do I actually need to feel content?
Not how much could I have. Not how much do other people own. But how much do I personally need?
We Are Machines That Make Wishes
I think we humans are remarkably good at getting used to wanting things.
We wish for something. We imagine how wonderful life will be once we finally have it, and we work towards it. Then, once we get there, it sometimes takes surprisingly little time before the next wish appears.
More money. More comfort. More opportunities. More security. More out of life.
And somewhere along the way, we may lose sight of the things we already have — things we once wished for ourselves.
Contentment cannot simply be accumulated like objects in a cupboard.
That doesn’t mean we should stop having goals. I think it’s wonderful to have wishes, try new things, and grow as a person.
But perhaps there is a difference between wanting something because it would enrich our lives and believing we absolutely need it before we can finally be happy.
Perhaps we can wish for something without treating our present lives as inadequate.
And perhaps we can occasionally stop and realise: Actually, things are pretty good just as they are.
What Does Security Really Mean?
For a long time, I associated security with certain things. Money, options, and the reassurance that nothing could go wrong.
Today, I see it a little differently.
Of course, I still need money. Of course, it makes sense to prepare for difficult times. I have no intention of pretending that financial insecurity is something beautiful.
But I have also experienced how people can help, how solutions sometimes appear, and how we can manage situations we never thought we could handle.
That has changed the way I look at things.
Perhaps security is not just about having everything under control. Perhaps it also involves trusting that we don’t have to be prepared for every possible difficulty in order to find our way through life.
There is no universal formula for this. And it certainly doesn’t work the same way in every situation.
But it has taught me that my ideas about what I absolutely need are not set in stone.
Perhaps We Don’t Need to Want Less
I don’t want to tell anyone that a simple life automatically makes you happier. Having few possessions can feel liberating, but it can also be difficult. A tent can feel like home to one person, while another person would never feel comfortable living in one.
We are different. We need different things and have different circumstances.
Perhaps, then, the point isn’t necessarily to want less.
Perhaps it’s to become more conscious of what we want — and why.
Do I really want this house? Or do I want the feeling of security I associate with it?
Do I want more money because there are things I would love to do with it? Or am I hoping that one day, when I have finally earned enough, I will feel good enough?
Do I want to be constantly doing something because it brings me joy? Or do I find it difficult to simply sit still and do nothing?
There are no universal answers. But sometimes, simply asking these questions can change something.
Because perhaps we aren’t always searching for the things themselves. Perhaps we are searching for the feelings we believe those things will give us.
And sometimes, we discover those feelings in the most unexpected places.
For Now, This Is Enough
I have no idea what my life will look like a year from now. Perhaps one day I will want more comfort again, a room of my own, or a completely different everyday life.
And that is perfectly fine.
I don’t have to turn the way I live today into a final answer. I am allowed to change, change my mind, and develop new wishes.
But right now, I enjoy getting by with less. Having my own space. Shaping my days the way I want to. Not constantly feeling as though something is missing.
Perhaps I haven’t finally discovered what will make me happy forever.
Perhaps I have simply stopped feeling the need to keep searching for more.
And perhaps that is part of what contentment really means: not having no wishes at all, but no longer measuring your life constantly against everything you don’t yet have.
After all, we are machines that make wishes. 🙈
But we can also learn to pause from time to time.
Not because we have achieved everything. Not because all our problems have disappeared. But because life doesn’t have to wait until some distant future before it can be good.
Sometimes, it can already be good right now.
Even with less.
Perhaps especially with less.
🏕️🌍
