The quote that inspired this site says to ask alms of those who work with joy. However, those aren’t the people I’m expecting to give me a buck. They wouldn’t understand why I’m asking. I’m speaking to the others: the ones who feel the same inner knowing that I’ve always felt. The ones for whom the “American Dream” feels more like a slow-motion nightmare. The ones who were never asleep to begin with. The ones who’ve watched with equal parts horror and sadness as their society becomes ever more obsessed with productivity—moving faster and faster to stay in the same place. A treadmill of exhaustion that strips away the joy and wonder from simply being. The ones who look at the material trappings and the endless pursuit of “more”, and think, surely this can’t be all there is.

I know it’s a big ask. I’m fully aware of the irony in asking another weary worker to give a buck so that I can be a little freer while they’re still overworked and underpaid. I make this ask with head bowed, sincerely and with the deepest humility. I’m hoping you’ll give, not in the spirit of compassion or pity, but in the spirit of solidarity—like a brother or sister in arms rebelling against the cult of productivity and madness of always striving for more.

I’m just asking for a crumb, and if enough kind souls offer one, I’ll have a slice just big enough to live simply, without worry. And when that day comes—when the amount in the alms bowl is more than I need—I’ll share that slice with someone else. That’s what the Do Nothing Scholarship is about. You can read about it on the “Future Goals” page, but suffice it to say that I will be passing on the generosity that I receive. Because this project is not just about me. It’s about all of us—and the possibility of a world where joy isn’t hoarded, but shared.

I’ve spent decades working and worrying about the future, while never truly being able to enjoy the present—the only place where life is unfolding. When the covid pandemic happened, and the activity of the world came to a standstill—when there was no where to go and nothing to do—I was able experience something I had been yearning for my entire life: the peace of just being. The stillness and solitude that was imposed on society broke a lot of people, but I was wired for it. For me, those first six months were ecstasy, and they confirmed what I had always known—that I prefer stillness to activity, and quiet to noise.

When the world started moving again, I began trying to figure out what came next. My business was gone, and rebuilding it would take years to get back to where it had been. The cost of living where I was had become unsustainable, and it would’ve been even more difficult to start over somewhere else. For more than twenty years, I’d dreamed of moving to Southeast Asia and living a simpler life. Looking at my situation, I realized it was now or never. So I took the leap. I gave away most of what I owned, packed what was left into a backpack, and bought a one-way ticket. No real plan, no safety net—just a quiet belief that life would meet me halfway if I trusted it enough to step off the treadmill.

So far, it has. I live simply here, surrounded by good people and a pace of life that allows me to breathe again. I still do some online work—just enough to cover the basics—but simple doesn’t mean effortless. Even a slow life has bills, taxes, and small necessities that never go away. That’s why I’m asking for a buck. Here, even a single dollar stretches farther than you might imagine, and each one helps me keep living in this slower, saner, and more sacred way. And when I’ve received more alms than I need, I’ll help someone else do the same.

And finally, this just may be the most compelling argument for giving me a buck: in a world full of scammers selling “secret life hacks”, false hope, and empty promises of easy riches—I’m not here to con you. I’m not offering you a course on how to level up, because you’re fine right where you are. I’m not upselling you a “mastermind” class. I’m not peddling “manifestation breathwork” or “abundance coaching”. And I am most definitely not promising you millions if you grind harder. I’m offering you nothing—nothing but honesty and truth. The simple truth that your buck could help someone step out of the same rigged game we’re all stuck in, if just for a while longer.

So that’s my ask. That’s my pitch. That’s why I believe—and I hope you do as well—that it’s worth it to throw a buck in the alms bowl. We may not be able to stop the work-obsessed culture that grinds us down, but maybe—just maybe—one by one, we can slow it. Maybe we can help each other step off the treadmill, even if only for a moment. And if your buck helps buy one person a little more time to breathe, to rest, to simply be, then I’d say it’s a worthy investment.

This site opens with a Kahlil Gibran quote that helped inspire it, so it seems fitting to close this section out with another of his quotes that really sums up how I feel:

“They deem me mad because I will not sell my days for gold; and I deem them mad because they think my days have a price.”

—Kahlil Gibran