My Cuckoo Life as a Nomadic Minimalist

A Taoist Tale of Expansion and Freedom?

The year was 2012. Freshly divorced and feeling like a naked jaybird set free, I decided to ditch almost everything I owned. 

So what did I keep? A mid-sized roller bag and a backpack.

My entire wardrobe: A few shirts and a couple of pairs of jeans, two pairs of shoes (one for looking sharp, one for staying active), and a handful of essentials. It was a declaration of war on consumer culture, a middle finger to the idea that possessions define you.

For the next four years, I ditched the mobile phone and relied solely on Wi-Fi. All my calls were made on an iPad or iPod. I managed to live off of crypto, cash, and prepaid cards without a traditional bank account. 

Traditional doctors? Haven’t seen one in over 20 years, preferring Chinese Medicine and other alternative health practitioners. I grateful for stellar health and vitality.

I gave the car to my ex and embraced a walkable lifestyle, using public transportation and Lyft for longer distances. For periods of time, I’ve roamed the U.S., living out of Airbnbs, 24-hour coffeehouses, and crashing on couches of friends and strangers. 

My diet was a masterclass in creative, Paleo-ish eating: sunflower seeds, avocados, grass-fed butter in my Bulletproof Coffee, and the occasional grass-fed burger when I could splurge. One meal a day has now become my norm, keeping me lean and mean.

I have generally lived everywhere and nowhere. I have one long standing former partner now amazing friend who I attribute to why I’m still alive and well. My love and appreciation for her has never been deeper. 

I’ve wanted to be invisible, untethered to the world—no ties to the outside world. I’ve crossed paths with untold numbers of people along the way. Some admired my nomadic lifestyle, others thought I was cuckoo. Truth be told, I was probably in denial half the time.

Owning a place has been out of the question. Renting? A bureaucratic nightmare. And housing costs are soaring.

Packing and unpacking in my early days as a healthcare administrator grew old, and the idea of storage units makes my skin crawl. Despite no credit card or revolving credit, my credit score now sits pretty at 750. My credit report? Frozen for years.

In my marriage, I had been Mr. Responsible—paying bills on time, working a soul-sucking W-2 job with a grueling commute, and being a doting dad. I avoided all vices—never touched drugs, not even weed. Yet, here I was, suddenly a nomadic minimalist, living life on my own rebellious and some would say irresponsible terms.

The Taoist Way

My lifestyle may seem extreme, but it’s rooted in Taoist philosophy. As Lao Tzu said, "A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving."

My journey was about the freedom to wander, unburdened by possessions. Taoism teaches us to live simply, and my minimalist rebellion was a stand against the consumer culture that suffocates us.

Minimalism often gets flak for being hypocritical—spending big to look like you have little, turning simplicity into an aesthetic that only the rich can afford. But my approach was raw and real, about stripping life down to its essentials. It wasn’t about looking minimalist; it was about living it.

In the "Tao Te Ching," Lao Tzu reminds us, "He who knows that enough is enough will always have enough."

My nomadic life was a testament to this wisdom. Shedding material concerns liberated me to focus on what truly mattered—my spiritual and emotional well-being. Excessive materialism taxes your soul, much like a tyrant over taxes his people, leading to unrest and misery.

Lessons Learned

Living as a nomadic minimalist taught me a few hard-hitting lessons:

Freedom in Simplicity: Owning less has meant more freedom. No possessions to tie me down, just the open road and endless possibilities. Life was flexible, unpredictable, and exhilarating.

Authentic Connections: Stripped of material distractions, I formed deeper, more genuine connections, becoming utterly fascinated with human nature. Strangers became friends, and every interaction had substance.

Self-Reliance: Living off the grid and without a traditional safety net honed my self-reliance. I became a problem-solving ninja, confident in my ability to navigate life’s curveballs.

Mindful Consumption: Choosing quality over quantity made me appreciate what I had. Each item served a purpose and was treasured.

Spiritual Growth: Embracing Taoist principles brought me peace and contentment. Living simply allowed me to focus inward, nurturing my spiritual growth.

Now in looking back, I can honestly say that my nomadically  minimalist lifestyle was more than a phase—it was a rebellion, a statement of self-discovery. 

As Lao Tzu wisely said, "When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be."

By shedding the excess, I found a richer, more fulfilling life. So here’s to the rebels, the wanderers, and the dreamers—may you find your own path, wild and free.

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