This week, I looked at what seemed to be the perfect apartment.
The location was ideal. Everything in it was brand new. I would have a TV in my room for the first time in 16 months.
The best part? No roommates. I certainly don’t have anything personal against any of my roommates, but studio apartments are highly appealing to introverts like me. And did I mention how helpful they can be in the time of coronavirus? I have four roommates now. If, heaven forbid, one of them gets COVID, I have to quarantine for 10 days through absolutely no fault of my own. Let’s be honest, with four chances at it happening, my constant worrier personality feels even more uneasy than usual, if that’s even possible.
Getting back to the possible switcheroo…the viewing was done and I was ready to sign on the dotted line. The apartment, or “flat,” as they call it over here, was quite pricey (it would have been approximately 200 USD more than what I pay now), but at the time, I thought that it was worth it.
That was, however, until I did some reflection.
Why exactly do I need everything to be brand new? Can’t older or used things work just fine? So what if there’s a TV? I’ve survived without one for the first 16 months I’ve been here. I can continue to carry on.
What about the lack of roommates? Shouldn’t that alone have been enough to get me to pull the trigger? Don’t get me wrong, as amazing as it would have been to not have to worry about roommates anymore, the reality is that it’s not a necessity. Not even close. There’s a stark difference between needs and wants.
I firmly believe that money can’t buy happiness. It’s just fine to live the minimalist lifestyle. For example, when I go to teach, I use an old, white backpack, while a number of my colleagues use briefcases or more professional-looking bags. I know that my students don’t care about the kind of bag I carry around–they care about the quality of my teaching and getting better at the language that will open up countless doors for them. A 2012 Ford Focus and a brand-new Aston Martin are far different in terms of the features and amenities that they give you, but at the end of the day, they both carry out the same essential purpose–to get you from point A to point B.
Speaking of cars, I think about the story of NFL running back Alfred Morris. Here’s a guy making millions of dollars playing football. He could drive any car he wants. So what does he drive? A 1991 Mazda that he bought for $2. He’s perfectly okay with that. It still gets him where he needs to go.
Even outside of sports, there are minimalist personalities. Morris’ lifetime NFL earnings of $8 million pale in comparison to the rich sums that Apple founder Steve Jobs made during his lifetime. But Jobs lived in an empty house with no furniture, strongly preferring a life of simplicity over the posh lifestyles that most others in his tax bracket would have preferred.
I’m not saying that it’s wrong to splurge or treat yourself every once in a while, but I just didn’t feel right making this kind of investment. And oh, yeah…I have these things called student loans, and unfortunately, escaping the country doesn’t mean escaping those pesky creditors. They don’t care about the coronavirus. Actually, they don’t really care about people at all. I think an essential qualification for that job is to not have a soul. Honestly.
Long story short, I decided not to take the apartment. It broke my heart at first, but after a while, I came to be at peace with my decision.
I recognized that there are countless ways I can use the extra money that I did not spend on that apartment. I can use it to buy materials to enhance my lessons for my students. I can donate to charity and help those people who have been less fortunate. I can go on a trip and explore a new part of the world.
Would I have really been happy in that apartment? Maybe, maybe not. But if I had taken it, a part of me would have felt like I was doing an awfully self-centered thing. That would have wrecked my conscience. As much as we possibly can, we need to put others first, especially during this awful pandemic in which so many good people have seen their lives be turned upside down.
COVID has also taught me to enjoy the things I do have. You never know when someone or something you love can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. This is especially true here, where we have new restrictions being put into effect seemingly every day.
So after this humbling and eye-opening experience, I know that it’s okay to live the minimalist life. If you haven’t done it, try it out.
You might like it.
(The photo: Who needs to go out and buy a globe to elicit the concept of the “world” when you can make a terrible drawing of it in just 15 seconds?)
Czeching Out the World of TEFL 