Swimming with the tide:

In the book, How did I get here?, I read about the moment my life changed. Well, in truth, it wasn’t a single moment. It was a series of moments—nudges, whispers, and eventually loud, undeniable calls—that arrived at a time when I was ripe for change.

I’ve always been a deep thinker, prone to questioning the world around me. I suspect I was destined to follow a more contemplative path. Yet, even now, as I reflect on this journey, I find myself caught in the tension between two lives.

On one hand, there is the life I dream of: simple, free, filled with time to write, create, and immerse myself in the practice of Buddhism, allowing its principles to flow into every corner of my daily life. On the other hand, there is the material life—the one where I must secure a roof over my head and food on my plate. These two lives are not naturally aligned, and navigating the gap between them often feels like swimming against the tide.

The Tide of Society

In society, success is often measured in material terms: the size of our homes, the numbers in our bank accounts, the accolades on our walls. From an early age, we’re taught that financial security and visible achievements are the markers of a life well-lived. It’s as though we’re handed a template for happiness, one that doesn’t fit every soul.

Yet, this focus on material gain rarely leaves space for inner peace, creativity, or purpose. When I looked around, I realised how much energy people pour into maintaining this façade of success, often sacrificing the very things that truly make life meaningful.

It was then I began to question:

Is it worth following a path that society defines as “normal” if it doesn’t bring joy or freedom?

Choosing the Alternative

Choosing an alternative path isn’t easy. It requires tough choices—turning away from the pursuit of fame, success, and riches, and often diving headfirst into what feels like nothingness. Imagine stepping off a conveyor belt that everyone else seems happy to ride. No clear direction, no pre-set milestones, and no guarantee of comfort. It’s frightening at first, but it’s also liberating.

What I’ve come to understand is that “nothingness” isn’t the absence of purpose—it’s the space where new purpose begins. When you step away from society’s expectations, you no longer need to aim for the next big promotion, impress a room full of strangers, or accumulate possessions. Instead, you have the freedom to pursue what truly matters to you.

For me, that purpose is clear: to create, to give, to help others, and to embrace the quiet beauty of a simpler life. Letting go of the distractions of the material world has been my most courageous act. And if that isn’t a grand ambition, I don’t know what is.

The Cost of Freedom

Of course, freedom isn’t free. Choosing this path means living with less. It means answering difficult questions:

How do I pay the bills while staying true to my values?

How do I make space for creativity and reflection when the world demands productivity and profit?

The answer lies in balance, although balance is often precarious.

When I find myself caught between these two worlds—the one I dream of and the one I’m obligated to maintain—I remind myself of the bigger picture. Not the one filled with pound signs, cruise ships, champagne glasses, and glittering awards, but the one that is simple, quiet, and deeply meaningful.

Life is precious, and it will inevitably come to an end.

When it does, it won’t be the things we’ve accumulated that matter but the lives we’ve touched along the way.

The Courage to Swim Against the Tide

If you’re reading this and feel an inner tug to explore a different path, I encourage you to take that call seriously. The world doesn’t make it easy to swim against the tide. It may mean facing criticism, losing old comforts, or living with less—but the freedom you gain is priceless.

Choosing a life that values meaning over material success is not a retreat; it’s an act of courage. It’s saying no to a system that doesn’t serve your soul and yes to the life you were truly meant to live.

A Final Thought:  So here I am, still swimming against the tide, still finding my way. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.