How a mortgage makes one a prostitute
The concept of home is interesting and is personal to everyone. What’s a home for you? For some it’s family, for some it’s their childhood home; for some it’s their created home and for me it’s the world. I don’t like to be attached to one thing or a place.
The world is my home!
After all you come to this world having noting and you leave this world having nothing.
I don’t believe in a materialistic attachment. Maybe because I travelled a lot and lived in many places, and met many people along the way. I have never felt the need for home. I always thought the home is where you are right now and make it as comfortable as you can. It may sound sad or something but it isn’t. I love every single second being where I am. It’s my home. I love every second of the air I breath.
A lot of people dream of big houses. A lot of people think living in a beautiful home is their definition of success. In England, people love having big homes and showing them off. I don’t care much about it. I used to live in big homes in England. I never understood this obsession. However, if you want to understand it you have to understand the class system in England.
The class system that I never liked. I never fitted in. I am a proud foreigner. A foreigner doesn’t fit in in the class system. What does a big home symbolise to you? Comfort? A “medal” of your long life achievement? To me it symbolises a massive chain around your neck for the rest of your life.
When I worked in a corporate world I saw my colleagues would get sucked into “this system”. They’d buy a property, sorry their dream home, and take a massive mortgage out for the rest of their lives. They’d have to work to pay it all off until they retire. They sell their freedom to have their dream home. It’s like a prostitution.
You sell your ability to do something well, for example, sitting in front of a computer looking at an excel sheet and counting how many phones one sells in a month for the rest of your life. For the rest of your life so that you have your dream home. You become a slave to that dream home.
People have nothing to eat so that they can have a big home. I saw many colleagues of mine struggle. They’d have a little salad for lunch at their desks. There’s nothing wrong having a salad for lunch but in a desperate circumstances it looks sad. I never understood this concept. Why would anyone be willing to do that to themselves?
The banks and the society forces you to get into the same trap. A lot of people I know have mortgages and flats or homes. I remember a friend of mine told me: ‘Erika get a mortgage and buy a flat!’ I always used to say. Why? I don’t want to have something hanging around my neck and making me work for the rest of my life. Why would I? I wanted to be free from mortgage.
I wanted to be free from four walls. I didn’t need to have a flat to show off to somebody that I have something. What matters to me I have my soul and heart filled with joy. Instead, I went to operas in London. It does cost you a fortune to go to one.
What I do cherish more than a materialist home is friendship and experiences. Friendships you can keep and the experiences you can cherish for the rest of your life. Home is where your heart is as they say. My heart is in the world. It has no boundaries, no walls and no restrictions. Travelling a world would influence one as it influenced me.
Maybe it’s more to do with the upbringing. I didn’t grow up in a household owning money to the bank for the house. I do, however, believe that building a home is important. It’s where you rest, and recuperate, and create. I live in a beautiful spot in the mountains. A friend of mine calls it “a spa for the mind” and it really is.
I hope the home that you create is free from the society chains. I hope the home you have makes you happy, makes you creative and make your soul fulfilled.
