The modular life

What if you developed your life in modules?

I'm spending Saturday walking through parks, buying beef, and contemplating the modular lifestyle.

I realise I've been living it (for the most part) for years.

Only today have I put a word to it.

It's a little half-baked, but modular in this context means:

• You develop one mini-project at a time.

• You don't dive all in until you have dipped your toe in and run numerous mini-experiments.

• You infuse 'redundancy' into your life, aka 'backups.' If one project fails, you have one or more backups to fall back on.

• You follow your curiosity and work on what excites you the most next, but you make ruddy damn well sure you complete what is worth completing.

• You spend the year in multiple countries rather than marrying yourself to one. In my case, it's Bulgaria as my primary base, with a few secondary cities and places for variety, like Krakow, Finland, and Greece (module-Central baby).

• You turn away from the relentless grind approach on one niche for years. You become nicheless - you're multifaceted, and you own it.

• You add one small building or tent to your land at a time.

• You have several mini-income streams with fewer outgoings, rather than needing to bank huge months from a single relentless income stream.

• You build a network of relationships with friends, mentors, and the community, rather than betting everything on one person to carry the weight.

• You stop pretending you need to find your 'one thing.' Some people are wired to move through little phases (like Alex Mathers). Forcing depth-mastery onto a breadth-curiosity brain just makes you (me) miserable.

If this hits, you may dig my latest book.

The Never Retired Writer is about the freedom of earning a living from writing about what excites you, one post, article, or book at a time.

Grab it here

Alex