I’m not trying to simplify everything in my life.
There are still bills to pay.
Work to be done.
Responsibilities that don’t disappear just because life looks quieter from the outside.
If anything, some parts of life have become more complicated.
Living off grid means collecting water.
Keeping track of gas.
Generating our own electricity.
Running out of water is a real possibility — something that rarely crosses your mind when there’s a tap and a mains supply.
In that sense, this life is far from simple.
Complexity hasn’t disappeared.
It’s just taken on a different shape.
That’s something I didn’t fully understand at the beginning.
This isn’t an exercise in stripping life down to the bare bones.
It isn’t about making everything easier, or smoother, or more efficient.
It’s about choosing what stays.
Choosing the kind of work that feels worth the effort.
The kind of complexity that feels honest rather than imposed.
A way of living that feels truer, even when it asks more attention rather than less.
I’ve learned that every way of life contains its own difficulties.
There’s no version that’s entirely frictionless.
The difference is whether that friction feels meaningful —
or whether it feels like noise you’re constantly pushing against.
For a long time, I thought ease was the goal.
That if I could just simplify enough, things would finally feel right.
Now I’m not so sure.
These days, alignment matters more to me than ease.
Living in a way that makes sense internally, even when it requires effort.
Accepting complexity when it belongs, rather than trying to eliminate it entirely.
That distinction has changed how I think about what I’m doing here.
Life doesn’t need to be simple to feel right.
It just needs to be chosen.
And for me, that difference matters.