At the beginning of this experiment, I wrote that one of my (painfully obvious) primary objectives was to embrace a lifestyle choosing personal freedom over material possessions. By completing the first phase of the experiment, I reached at least superficial achievement of that goal.

There were specific details I outlined in order to get there. I cited having recently overworked myself in undesirable conditions, compromising available time and energy I’d have preferred to spend with my art or with loved ones or on the road. I talked about the subconscious urge to conform, spending above my means to portray and attract the beauty displayed regularly on advertisements everywhere. I detailed my orbit around an all-encompassing gravity of an image with which, deep down, I wasn’t even interested in identifying. And because of all of this, I’d let slip away the high level of personal freedom that had kept me happy for most of my life.

Personal freedom. A concept that, in my definition, is an individual’s ability to assert his own free will in every area of his life. It is the capability, in any given moment, to act on behalf of desires designed to fulfill his conscious priorities and goals. (Provided, I might add, that those ends aren’t met at the expense of the rights of others.) Regardless of what those ends might be, to the individual they are valid and the effort put forth in reaching them is justified. Even when those ends aren’t common. Perhaps especially when they aren’t common.

When someone is bound by outside obligations, his personal freedom is compromised. These can be actual, as in the case of legal or contractual agreements… A legislature’s regulation denying an immigrant status as a legal immigrant. A supervisor’s decision ignoring an employee’s request for time off. A husband’s disapproval preventing a wife from pursuing a hobby. Or they can be perceived, such as the unwritten norms of social acceptability… A teenager committing suicide after being bullied about her weight. An honest working man’s girlfriend leaving him for a wealthy doctor. An athlete injecting illegal steroids to get an edge on an opponent.

Not all of these are permanent obstacles.

For this experiment, I declared impermanent an obligation many seem to take for granted as necessary–housing. Housing is secure. It is comfortable and it is stable. But it is also very expensive. Yet despite its expense, it is largely agreed upon that living without it is impossible. That those who do are somehow of ill fortune or worse, ill repute. We associate the homeless with those addicted to drugs, with the uneducated and criminal. We associate the homeless with the sidewalk peddlers and the mentally ill. Almost never does one hear the word “choice” used to describe the situation of a homeless person. And if one does, we are made to assume immediately that there is some element of the story that will confirm our suspicion that the person has somehow lost his mind.

But at some point, I started to feel differently. I started to question the massive financial obligation that I had hanging over me. I began to wonder why, when I felt so comfortable sleeping in my car on road trips or camping in the open air in the wilderness, why I would devote so much time and energy to ensure I had a roof available to me during the little time I had left to enjoy it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to live in a proper home. I just didn’t want to have to.

So, for some time, I didn’t.

In viewing rental housing as a luxury rather than a necessity, I freed myself from an obligation to need it. I freed myself from an obligation to pour so much of my monthly paycheck into something that frustrated me so much, it proved to act as an obstacle to my priorities rather than keep me secure from them. Whether or not you might agree with it, selective homelessness became the best way I could imagine for expressing one’s material independence. Aside from leaving society and running off into the Alaska wilderness, aside from quitting your job and fleeing to a rural commune, there are very few options for the active citizen who wishes to maintain an otherwise middle-class social existence. Particularly in the shadow of student, medical, and vehicle loans. So the selective homelessness option became my option. The option of finding a safe, reliable alternative for my sleeping and storage needs as a viable way to achieve my goal of personal freedom.

Indeed, part of achieving my goal of achieving personal freedom was in unearthing a more complete way of defining it. Living so simply over the course of six weeks afforded me a renewed perspective on life and how one could choose to engage its challenges. In the months following the experiment, I’ve turned that perspective inward, discovering a path to becoming a person less focused on self-image and more attentive to areas of my life that enriched my happiness regardless of my circumstances. Two in particular have stood out at me:

First of all, my well-being. It wouldn’t take long to figure out that, at the inception of this web diary, the main focus in my life was the struggling state of my finances. This dominated my outlook on life, and led me to a baseline of negative thought that I found hard to avoid. This has not always been the case for me. Only recently, since my investment in moving to Los Angeles, have I become preoccupied with personal budget. When I moved west, I gave up my bicycle for a truck, enduring stability for growing uncertainty, and loving friends for a lifelong dream. It was a difficult adjustment. This experiment shook up my routine and worked to simplify my life to the point where I often found myself with little to do but acknowledge the changes that got me to where I am today. Physically and emotionally.

In discovering the gaps in my life, I have been able to work to find ways to improve them. I have started to exercise on most mornings, reviving a kinetic element present in my life since I could kick a nerf ball around the living room, but one that has been missing since leaving the bike culture in Chicago. As I highlighted in a variety of diary entries throughout the experiment, I came to recognize the complicated nature of my emotional attachment to Shani, my most recent girlfriend. In acknowledging my struggles in processing the loss of her presence from my life, even after so many months since our breakup, I have allowed myself more space to exist within it. To allow myself to engage and accept her absence. And since then I have enjoyed more peace with the reality of our parting. Through all of this, I’ve gained a greater mastery of the art of letting go. Letting go of love lost, letting go of perceived needs unmet, and letting go of goals, desires, and routines that have become obsolete. I have let go of a slew of nagging negative thoughts twittering about my head, trying to convince me that I’m not measuring up. And thanks to all of this letting to, I’ve grown myself this killer beard. It’s a real bushy one, I tell ya. (I’d attach a photo here, but this isn’t that kind of post. Maybe later…)

In addition to my mental and physical health, I’ve regained a more intimate focus on my art. I have dedicated an immeasurable amount of time to writing, generating enough material for a novel’s rough draft, something I’ve never been disciplined enough to achieve. And I couldn’t be more thrilled. I have practiced my guitar to the point of recording my first original song (a ballad) and performed live–in the most humble of settings, a doctor’s waiting room–for the first time in my life. And I have accepted a lead role in an independent film, thanks to a well-researched and practiced audition. And all of this, I believe, is a direct result of the revitalized notion of priority. The ability, once again, finally, to devote time to that which I truly want to do, not that which I believe I should.

And there was one final goal I set out to achieve for myself. One that might have seemed silly to the casual observer, but one that I am extremely proud of making happen for myself.

That was the goal of following through on my word.

Back in August, I made a promise to myself to complete a task I’d had my heart set on for months. I told myself I would go through with something in which I believed strongly and for which I’d accept no help. I made a vow not only to go through with the experiment, but to document it as well with as much effort and detail as I could give. This was probably more challenging than the experiment itself–the creation, publication, and delivery of each day I experienced. Despite the support of many of my friends and family, occasionally I’d receive criticism from a reader who condemned my premise or a friend who thought I was wasting my time. And while their criticism might be valid in the end, the highest value I can take from reaching this point in the experiment is in the fact that I honored my commitment to a difficult promise. Even if it was just to myself. It is this lesson of accomplishment that I hold dearest.

Those who matter in your life will remain in it regardless of the circumstances. Your parents will love you despite your ridiculous choices. Your friends will encourage you despite their struggles to understand your perspective. Potential lovers will embrace you for the allure of your character rather than the state of your wealth. For those who sincerely love you, this will be true. Whether you are moving into your office or converting religions, adopting your fifteenth cat or tattooing your entire body. And the people who you welcome into your life for the first time, they will have been attracted to you for the very reasons that got you there in the first place.

So there it is. My full blessing to go out and do something you think is awesome.

You won’t regret it.

– TOH