Most of you are hustling backward, honestly. You think abundance is about having more, doing more, being more in the ways the world tells you to be. Bigger house, fanc ier car, packed schedule, crushing it in your career… and for what? To earn a weekend off feeling utterly drained? To prove your worth by how much you acquire or accomplish?
Let me tell you something, because I had to learn this shit the hard way. Like, the really hard way. The kind of hard way that rips your comfortable, messy, but predictable life to absolute shreds and scatters it to the winds. You see, I used to chase that same damn script. Work harder, strive more, just get through it so I could finally have peace, security, joy, abundance. Newsflash: I didn’t find it in the grind. What I found was exhaustion , fear, and ultimately, a situation that became untenable, dangerous even.
Life has a funny way of nudging you, doesn’t it? And if you’re not listening to the whispers, it starts yelling. If you still don’t listen, well, sometimes it serves up a full-blown, steaming pile of shit show that leaves you with no choice but to radically reroute. For me, that reroute looked like escaping domestic violence and landing in a damn RV with my four kids. Not exactly the Pinterest board life transformation I might have envisioned, you know? But turns out, that forced radical downsizing and slowing the fuck down was the greatest gift the universe ever wrapped in sandpaper and handed to me.
Because this is where I found it: The Peace of Nothing.
Yeah, you heard me right. Nothing. Or rather, less of everything the world tells you matters. Less space, less stuff, less predictable structure, less financial overhead (hello, no rent/light/water bills!). And what did I gain? Everything that actually does matter.
Living in this RV, especially during those raw, early days, stripped life back to its bare bones. We had to slow down. No more frantic rushing from one scheduled thing to the next. Our days are guided less by clocks and more by the sun, the weather, and the simple rhythm of keeping our little world going. And honestly, honey, this forced deceleration? It’s potent. It’s where the magic hides.
Most of you are so busy doing, acquiring, striving, that you never pause long enough to just be. You’re addicted to the hustle, convinced your worth is tied to your productivity. You scroll and compare, feeling inadequate because your neighbor’s highlight reel looks shinier than your messy bloopers. Cut that shit out right now, love. Comparing your raw , unfolding life to someone else’s filtered feed is soul-crushing idiocy.
Slowing down isn’t laziness. It’s discernment. It’s presence. It’s creating space for your intuition, that gentle whisper of your soul, to actually get a word in edgewise amidst the mental clutter. When my kids and I are just playing outside more instead of zoning out in front of screens, guess what? We’re connecting. We’ re present. We’re creating shared moments that are actual life, not just a time filler between obligations.
And oh, the chores! Don’t even get me started. This isn’t like throwing clothes in a machine or paying a bill online. This is a family affair. My son making sure we have enough firewood for heat? That’s responsibility, contribution, and connection rolled into one. My little girls carefully collecting rainwater? They’re learning reverence for resources , understanding cycles, and feeling helpful. Washing clothes by hand and hanging them on a line? It’s a process. It’s work. It’s also ten minutes standing in the fresh air with my kids, feeling the sun , working together towards a common, simple goal. It fosters a group effort, a sense of mutual caretaking that’s so profoundly different from everyone existing in their own separate silos, only coming together to pass like ships in the night.
This collective effort teaches a powerful lesson: interdependence is beautiful. Contribution isn’t a burden; it’s belonging. It flips the script from “me against the world, trying to get ahead” to “we’re in this together, supporting each other.” That sense of true belonging and mutual support? That’s abundance, honey. Far richer than any solo-achieved status symbol.
And the bills… or lack thereof, for the most part. We’ve got a generator, yeah, and that takes gas money, so it’s not like zero financial outflow. Let’s not get delusional here. But the crushing weight of rent, a huge power bill, a water bill? Gone. And that absence? That peace of not having those looming expenses hanging over my head constantly? It’s been a revelation.
You chase money, thinking it will bring you security, thinking that big number in the bank account is freedom. And yes, financial stability matters. Of course it does. But true financial peace comes not just from having a lot, but from needing less and feeling secure in your ability to provide for your actual needs, not just your perceived desires driven by societal programming. When you strip back the unnecessary, when your baseline is lower, that frantic energy around money dissipates. The constant low-grade anxiety about ‘more, more, more’ quiets down. You realize you don’t need a million bucks to feel safe; you need security in the fundamentals and faith in your resilience. That shift in financial mindset? Holy hell, that’s empowering.
Being this close to nature has been profound, too. Sitting out in the sun, soaking it in, actually seeing the trees, talking to them… sounds woo-woo maybe, but try it. Grounding yourself with the earth’s energy isn’t optional for highly sensitive beings like us, love. It’s necessary . We’re part of this incredible, vibrant energetic field, and constantly being cooped up indoors, disconnected from the natural world, messes with your frequency. Sunbathing isn’t just about a tan; it’s about absorbing pure energy. Talking to the trees isn’t crazy; it’s acknowledging the living, breathing world around you and your place within it. It’s remembering you aren’t a separate entity but part of a vast, supportive network.
This life, born from crisis, has changed me fundamentally. I’ve become… softer. More relaxed. Not lazy, mind you. But the rigid tension I carried, the constant feeling of needing to brace myself for the next blow, that’s eased. The desperate, striving energy has been replaced by something quieter, more present, more rooted.
And this is maybe the biggest lesson, the one that punches you in the gut with its simplicity: I finally feel like I deserve this peace .
Think about that, honey. How many of you subconsciously believe you have to earn peace? Earn joy? Earn abundance? That it’s a reward for being good, for suffering enough, for working your ass off until you drop ? We are conditioned to believe life is a struggle, that ease is earned, not a birthright. We carry the weight of past traumas, past failures, past hurts, letting them define what we believe we are worthy of receiving now.
Running from that dark situation, landing here, being forced into simplicity… it cracked open that hard shell I had built around my worthiness. Suddenly, peace wasn’t a distant prize; it was the texture of my everyday life – the sun on my face, my kids laughing while collecting rainwater, the quiet hum of the generator at night (yes, the generator peace!), the feeling of collaborative survival and shared moments. And experiencing that, viscerally, day in and day out, began to rewrite the deep, buried belief that I wasn’t safe or deserving of calm, of ease, of joy. It hit me: this isn’t a reward I earned; it’s a state of being I allowed myself to enter by shedding the old expectations and embracing what is.
Maybe, just maybe, life isn’t meant to be one endless cycle of working your damn fingers to the bone all week just to scrape together a few hours of exhausted freedom on the weekend. What the actual fuck kind of life is that? We glorify busy-ness, exhaustion, and striving, calling it success, while neglecting our souls, our connections, our peace.
I am finally living. Even though I objectively have less – less money, less space, fewer material possessions, less conventional “security” – I have more joy, more connection, more presence, and a hell of a lot more peace.
Coming to this RV wasn ‘t just about running from a dangerous situation; it was inadvertently running towards this fundamental truth. It was a painful, messy, terrifying catalyst to build a life based on presence and principle, not just accumulation and expectation.
This is freedom. True freedom isn’t an external condition granted by your job or your bank account or permission from someone else. It’s an internal state of being, accessed when you choose presence over worry, simplicity over complexity, connection over isolation , and most importantly, when you realize that you are inherently worthy of peace and joy, right here, right now.
Now, I’m not telling you to go ditch your life and buy an RV, honey. That was my specific, somewhat extreme, wakeup call. But the lessons from this “peace of nothing” are universal, and they are absolutely applicable to your life, right where you are sitting, feeling lost and longing for something more.
So let’s cut the bullshit, love. Where are you still seeking validation, security, or worthiness in external things? Where are you cluttering your life – physically, mentally, emotionally – with excess that is weighing you down rather than lifting you up?
What does “slowing down” look like for you this week? It might just be five minutes of quiet breathing before checking your phone, ten minutes outside feeling the sun, saying no to one more commitment that doesn ‘t light you up.
Where can you invite more collective effort and connection into your relationships, finding abundance not in solo achievement, but in shared experience and mutual support? Maybe it’s cooking dinner together with your kids, really listening to your partner, helping a friend without expecting anything in return.
How are you perpetuating financial anxiety by focusing on perceived lack rather than appreciating what you do have and trusting your ability to handle what comes? Abundance is a mindset shift first. Practice gratitude for what you have, even if it feels small. Find peace in needing less.
Are you making time to reconnect with nature in whatever way is accessible to you? A walk in the park, tending a houseplant, simply looking up at the sky. Remember you are a part of this living earth.
And this is the big one, so listen up: Are you allowing yourself to deserve peace and joy, or are you still stuck in the narrative that you have to earn it? Your past does not dictate your worthiness now. You are not defined by the bad things that happened to you, or the mistakes you made. You are a soul of pure light, always deserving of love, peace, and abundance simply because you exist. Anything less is a lie the ego and external world try to sell you.
What “shit show” or difficult challenge in your life right now could be a catalyst for powerful change if you stopped resisting it so damn hard and started asking, “What is this trying to teach me? What new path is this forcing me to consider?” Don’t let a crisis be just pain; let it be purpose. Let it be the shove you needed towards your true north.
You are seeking to step into a life of joy, purpose, and magical abundance. That life is not out there, waiting for you to finally get all your ducks in a perfect , Instagrammable row. That life is an internal frequency, a state of being cultivated by presence, self-worth, and the courage to live authentically, often with less conventional stuff and more essential soul.
Find your own version of the peace of nothing, honey. Strip back the non-essentials. Make space for what truly matters. Choose presence over distraction, connection over isolation, and inner peace over outer validation. Trust that you are worthy of it, fiercely and unconditionally. It’s your birthright. Now go claim it.
Lots of love and a gentle but firm nudge from your fellow traveler, Angel.
