Recently a unit in our block went up for sale with an asking price lower than I had hoped. I went to check it out, compare it to our own unit, and see if we could honestly hope for a better price.
Not likely. Not without doing more work, perhaps renovating the bathroom here, which I would have to do myself to be financially viable. So not without considerable stress, effort, and daunting undertakings.
I have to admit when we first moved into the unit this kind of thinking really got to me. It’s a purely mercenary mindset, which on any other day I’ll happily admit I loathe to my core. Yet owning property and hoping to one day transition to nicer, better, more expansive property makes a money-minded approach seem necessary.
I had been counting on the value of our unit rising by more than it evidently has. Perhaps that was a mistake, but the bigger mistake was to let it get to me. The financial imperative runs so deep that I felt as though I’d just been diagnosed with a serious illness. Yet in reality nothing had changed except my expectations.
In reality, I just put a price on my happiness: 15-20k to feel totally miserable. Turning it around, the absurdity is obvious: how much money would you accept to feel totally miserable? Would 15-20k be enough to justify feeling stressed, burdened, and unhappy?
It wouldn’t be enough for me. So why feel bad about it? If renovating the bathroom is a thankless, stressful, miserable and uninspired experience, then don’t do it. You wouldn’t go back to your old job for the sake of twenty thousand dollars; why pile depressing obligations onto your own life for the same amount?
At the end of my life, I won’t be looking back and wishing I’d earned a few extra tens or even hundreds of thousands. Money isn’t going to be that important, especially not when truly significant acts of freedom and productivity and enjoyment can be had for next-to-nothing.
When we first bought our unit, I went through the experience of having my expectations and hopes ground down to almost nothing. That was painful, but I’ve since discovered that what matters is not how much money or how big a house or property we have, but how free we are to do what we want with what we have. The biggest constraint is not living in a unit, it’s knowing that we can’t do anything radically personal to it, because we don’t intend to stay here too much longer. If we were going to stay here, we could do any number of things to improve it, make it more our own, with no thought for market value and the ‘safety’ of mainstream design.
So, I won’t be making myself miserable for the sake of money that doesn’t exist and which may not have any practical bearing on my future life. I wonder what else I can find to not make myself miserable for?