Money-Unconscious

There seems to be a trend in society, particularly among the ‘millenials’, to shift from being money-minded to money-conscious. To see money as an enabler for a certain lifestyle rather than an object of life itself. This cultural shift belies the fact that our fundamental attitude towards money remains unchanged: money remains at the forefront of our minds and thereby our choices.

I don’t want this to be the case and so I have chosen a different approach: to not accumulate money at all. Since last year, as a rule, I donate at least a third of my pre-tax income, save little and do not invest. This initiative comes on the back of years of reducing the meaning of money in my life and has liberated my ‘life’ choices from being money-conscious, enabled me to follow my passion and (better) live by my principles. I would not be living in Kenya were it not for this.

Disclaimer: It is very important to note that I can take this approach thanks to a great deal of privilege I have been lucky to receive: no ‘living’ responsibilities (other than my house-plants), no debt, a family that can support themselves as well as myself in case of an emergency, a citizenship that guarantees a basic livelihood and safety, employable skills, good health and (although not a privilege as such) no partner.

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Podcasts: my answer to boredom

I love podcasts as a wonderful way to learn and engage whilst also doing something else: walking, cleaning up, cooking, eating, travelling and even working (when appropriate). I have likely already bothered you with suggestions and rather than perpetually do so, I thought I would outline the podcasts I listen to with different regularity and for different purposes. This list is broken into thematic sections and each is ordered in rough order of preference. Let me know if enjoy any of them or have things to add!

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Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

When terrorists attack or natural disasters occur, we are reminded of the brutal finality of death: that one day we will fall and there will be no one there to catch us. As I see it, we will have lived but one life and we shall exist just as we did before our short time on this earth: nonexistent and insignificant. This amazes me, confounds me and troubles me.

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Japan: the land of the rising sun

(Disclaimer: A creative writing piece so please forgive the generalisations and mischaracterisations! Also a big thanks to my parents for making this trip possible.)

The plane took off from Tokyo and carried over the sea as cargo-ships drifted away on a black mirror. Japan lay awake; restless at night, its endless sprawl burning the clouds auburn. Peaceful, respectful and unique.

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My 2019 New Year’s Resolution: Don’t Set a Resolution, Set a Habit

When the earth (roughly) completes its rotation of sun by some arbitrary point tonight, the Western world finds an opportunity to reset. Reset the year, the clocks, the wrongs and plan for the upcoming ‘tour de sun’. We take this opportunity to pause and set New Year’s Resolutions. Alas, if only they were effective. New Year Resolutions may be fantastic for gym owners and diet-sellers, but they rarely achieve what they set out to do. This year, I have one resolution: don’t set a resolution; set a habit.

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The Existential Questions

Humans are spiritual beings and as the wonderful poet John O’Donohue wrote, “we all have an inner sense of mystery”. Such mystery is thanks to our consciousness and as we search, we are unsettled by the big questions that arise. For what is the relevance of one amongst infinity? What is the meaning of life?

Where do the Existential Questions come from?

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An Evening in Casablanca

A more creative style of writing for me, let me know what you think in comments below!

The train pulled into the station at 10:15pm. The journey had taken me through the arid Moroccan hills from the ancient ninth century medina walls of Fes to the big city lights of Casablanca. My cabin was already crowded with life when two young Moroccans arrived carrying with them a small puppy who defiantly poked her head out of their backpack. She brought an innocence to the cabin; the mood became light and smiles abounded. We began chatting, in French, and by the time we had reached Casablanca, we were ‘frères’. They insisted on walking me to my youth hostel and offered food, accommodation and company if I ever returned to Morocco. The authenticity of their offer surprised me – in the “West”, such displays of generosity were to be met with suspicion – but here it was customary.

It was 11pm now, I found my dormitory and set down my pack. Exhausted and famished. I needed food but unfortunately not any food, vegan food. Restaurants had closed for the night but the equivalent of corner shops remained open, their offering limited to cookies, dairy snacks and bread. Late-night sandwich and deep-fry shops appeared but were only serving animal flesh. A cubby-hole shack wafted smells of something sizzling but my plea of “Végétarien?” was quickly dismissed. This was not hopeful.

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