We need to be honest with ourselves, that's why I admit I am not an organized nomad
I live well in my chaos
The last edition of this newsletter sparked furious reactions from some readers on my WhatsApp: to avoid spending money on laundry detergent and fabric softener, you need to buy a small container for transportation.
Yes, yes, I know that. The problem is that I'm already at the limit of two things.
The capacity of what I can carry while only having a carry-on suitcase and a backpack.
My ability to organize and my willpower to keep things minimally tidy.
"I was born like this, I grew up like this. I am just like this." The lyrics by Dorival Caymmi for Gal Costa in the soap opera Gabriela define our relationship with the world.
Something I've learned in life is that we need to be honest with ourselves. We can try to deceive ourselves, but we know that's impossible. Our inner self is our greatest critic.
Of course, we can improve in some aspects and change our opinions in others. Still, in the course of life, we will be the product of a peculiar combination of genetics, education, and the people around us.
I have to admit that I am not an extremely organized person. I know the importance of organization in the life of someone who doesn't have a home, which is why I included it as one of the seven fundamental characteristics of being a digital nomad.
Everyone needs to discover their own level of organization. I have mine, which is an organized disorganization. I live well in my chaos. As I have noticed, I can make my new home uninhabitable for someone from the outside within a week.
My organized disorganization
Another characteristic of disorganization is leaving packing until the last minute and never doing it in advance to leave the house calmly. Every time I deceive myself, thinking that I will change, but it never materializes. I'm always late for my schedule — and, see how contradictory life is, in this aspect, I am a person who likes to arrive with the maximum possible advance at airports or bus and train stations. Point for me.
And this trait goes back to ancient times, through college, when I lived with a friend, alone, and with my ex-girlfriend. Of course, when sharing an apartment, I imposed limits on my disorganization (or was made aware of them).
But that limit bothered me. I wasn't being myself. Today, for the mess to be tidied up, it needs to reach a level higher than the past average. And I'm okay with that. I look at my things, they look at me, and we get along.
I could save a little more on laundry detergent and fabric softener. But it would come at the cost of changing my personality into something that would bother me. And then it wouldn't be worth it anymore. I prefer writing a long post in this newsletter.
What's your level of mess? Please leave it in the comments!
Read more: 17 items a digital nomad needs to carry