The Quiet Rebellion of Enough

I discovered that toilets are not necessities to my happiness. When I first arrived in Tibet, I thought I’d struggle without the comforts I’d always taken for granted-no flushing toilets, no steady electricity, no convenience stores, not even enough oxygen. But those weren’t the only things I lost. The wall between me and the wind dissolved-I began to feel it on my skin. Without screens between me and others, we simply talked. Without the constant noise of bars, traffic, and neon signs, I could finally hear the quiet thrum of my own thoughts. Each evening, we wandered the hills, never knowing what we might encounter-perhaps a curious weasel, a fox mid-hunt, or a gathering of vultures feasting on the remains of a snow leopard’s kill. Or “nothing at all,” just the way the light touched the grass, the way the sunset hushed the mountains. Freed from the clutter of consumption and overstimulation, I felt alive in a way I had never known. True happiness, I realized, had little to do with owning more-and perhaps everything to do with uncovering and tending to our real needs, long buried beneath layers of fabricated and commodified desire.

Today, over 57% of the global population lives in cities (external link), and we’ve grown used to artificial ways of meeting our needs. We scroll and type instead of talking. We order instead of cooking. We consume when we’re anxious, only to end up more hollow. Between 1970 and 2010, global per capita material use rose from 3 tonnes to over 10 tonnes, marking a more than threefold increase over four decades (external link). This also means real suffering, as there is a sever justice problem, a new phone for yourself is at the health deterioration of other people. Around 70% of the world’s cobalt, used in batteries, comes from the Democratic Republic of Congo-much of it mined by hand, often by children (external link). 

But I’m not asking you to throw out your toilet or buy a one-way ticket to Tibet, in fact, please don’t, your toilet is very important to you. I know this isn’t just about individual choice-it’s about systemic pressure. Still, we can begin to rebel by creating small sanctuaries of sanity in our daily lives, and practice true sufficiency.

One powerful framework for me is Bruce Perry’s “reward bucket” theory (external link). Our brains need three types of experiences to feel whole: relational, rhythmic, and rewarding. While consumerism tries to fill that bucket with quick hits-scrolling, buying, bingeing. 

Try this:

• Relational: spend time with people who make you feel seen.
• Rhythmic: engage in activities with natural rhythm-observing nature, walking, dancing, or even just breathing deeply.
• Rewarding: do things that give slow, lasting satisfaction-like cooking, gardening, sketching, or reading.

These are not luxuries. They are the soil from which real joy grows. Sufficiency isn’t about sacrifice. It’s about remembering we already have what we need to feel alive-and we don’t have to buy it.