I plan to die in obscurity. It seems a strange thing to say given the number of people I interact with regularly, but as I walk along this quiet road in rural Thailand, I can’t help but think I’ll end up in a place like this. 

I love traveling and sharing my stories, and it is my connection with all of you that keeps me from experiencing loneliness, but each time I travel, I find myself more and more drawn to a life of simplicity; the life I see from this road: A family living in the open air with nothing more than a corrugated metal roof over their heads.

Some homes are on stilts above the water, others have well swept dirt floors. Some have temporary screens they drawn down at night, while others have decorative mats that they’ve attached to bamboo poles. Inside are the barest of necessities. A bed, a table, a toilet. No need for a closet.

The cooking area can be a gas burner inside the home or an upside down coffee can with sides hollowed out to allow for airflow. You’d be impressed by the things people can cook using the simplest of stoves, but the reality is that all you really need to cook is heat, regardless of how it’s generated.

Some homes have wash basins with running water; others a 50 gallon barrel and a ladle with which to draw water. Separate tubs are used for washing clothes or dishes. Clothes dryers are non-existent as people string lines either out in the open or under a roof where clothes dry overnight without the use of gas or electricity. Really, what is it we need to live; food, shelter, and some clothes?

When I first visited with a retirement planning specialist, I was advised I’d need about 80% of my current income to live on after retirement, but now that I’ve redefined that retirement to sleeping out under the stars and walking the beach at night before going to bed, I’ve determined I could have retired years ago. So, I expect this is how you’ll find me at the end of my life, whether it’s in Mexico or SE Asia. I’ll be living out a simple life in relative obscurity.