This morning I sit on a balcony in a hotel in Florence, breathing in the fresh air and dull sounds of a waking metropolis.

Among several things learned on the journey to discover our current lifestyle, quite prominent is the realization of the oppression of things.

I had every thing I had ever wanted: large house, fast motorcycle, boat I can surf behind, lovely green lawn, 3D 144” movie theater with surround music set up just the way I wanted, 3D printer, triple-monitor workspace with custom keyboard mounted to my ergonomic armchair…

It is no surprise that these things didn’t increase my happiness – I suspect every culture and religion has some teaching akin to “money doesn’t buy happiness”. What did surprise me was realizing that I had become a slave to my things. You see, I had never been afraid to work hard to have nice things – I always buy used and put in the work to make it what I want, do my own maintenance to make it affordable, etc. And suddenly I realized I couldn’t keep up. The majority of my time not spent at work was spent working. Hurry and mow the lawn while on my lunch break from work. Gotta fix something on the boat this evening. Oh, and stay up late because the van needs an oil change before the road trip. Even when I was spending time doing something fun with my family, I struggled to be present, finding my mind thinking more about the next thing on my to-do list than where I was and what I was doing.

What to do about it? Well, obviously I need to make more money so I can afford for someone else to take care of my things, right? (Because my current job isn’t stressful enough?!?) A quick check-in with my values and that is clearly not the right solution.

Instead, as part of our journey abroad, we sold everything we own. We have 6 boxes (one per family member) of irreplaceable keepsakes stored in my parents’ attic. And we have a light luggage load on the road with us. And let me tell you, a reset feels fantastic!

Sure, there have been some moments of looking back. After selling the boat, I am parked at the lake while my house is being shown and the rest of my family is away on a trip, and it hit me how many beautiful and fun times we’ve had on that lake, and that I may never have again. I sobbed, crying to the Lord, “I’m doing everything I can, why won’t my house sell?”.

Or there’s that moment when we had stuffed all five of us and our luggage into a Corolla station wagon at the Rome airport and drove an hour to our new temporary home. Suddenly it struck me that everything I own – everything important to me – was in that little Corolla. As if driving through Rome at night wasn’t already challenging enough.

But sitting here in Florence, on a balcony I don’t have to sweep, spending this moment reflecting on the last couple weeks spent focused on my family – on learning and on connecting with a new culture, supporting each other through immense change… I have zero regrets.

So no, money doesn’t buy happiness, and owning things is HIGHLY overrated. And this forced reset – living on the road where things only weigh us down – is exactly the reset I needed.