The Luxury of Wanting Less

For the past two months, I’ve been wearing just two simple kameez sets, paired with the same sandals and one trusty bag, wherever I go. Except for a few occasions, this has been my beautiful routine. The colours of the dresses have softened with time, and the sandals even needed a small repair once. Yet somehow, that has only made them feel more alive, more mine, as if they carry the reflective story of my days within their fading threads …

This small choice has brought a surprising calm into my life. I no longer stand before my wardrobe wondering what to wear or how to appear. There’s less noise in my mind, fewer decisions to make. Simplicity has become a rhythm of peace, an invitation to slow down and live with intention. Life, I’ve found, feels calmer when there is less clutter …

In this space of simplicity, I began noticing how much I already have, how many clothes once sat untouched, how often I’ve taken the luxury of choice for granted. Wearing the same things again and again opened a subtle sense of gratitude. I realised how privileged I’ve been: to have more than I need, to be able to choose …

That realisation inspired another small but meaningful shift. Whenever I felt the urge to buy something new, I started setting a portion of that amount aside, for charity, or for something genuinely important. What once might have gone toward another purchase now flows toward purpose. Each act of restraint has become an act of giving. Truly, fulfilment lies not in acquisition, but in redirection …

These small choices have grounded me deeply. They’ve taught me that contentment doesn’t come from adding more, but from cherishing what already exists and letting it serve its purpose fully. Even as the fabric fades and the edges of my sandals wear thin, I certainly know a richness that has nothing to do with possessions …

It has now been over a year since I last bought clothes for myself. And yet, this restraint feels like abundance. There’s something profoundly beautiful about learning to want less, about realising that simplicity itself can be a beautiful form of luxury, one that dresses the spirit far more gracefully than anything we could ever wear …

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What might shift in your life if you began to embrace a little less, and notice a little more?

Endure

When clouds gather without warning
You steady my breath with your stillness
We’re brave weather, together …

When the day feels heavy with silence
Your presence makes room for light
We’re brave weather, together …

When a door closes I wasn’t ready for
You sit beside me without needing words
We’re brave weather, together …

When I fall behind the confusion of things
You slow down so I don’t feel lost
We’re brave weather, together …

Even when the air shifts, and so do we
Nothing is the same, but we remain
Because we’re brave weather, together …

Aren’t we?

#roksanatales

I♥️

Still

Ask me how
How I keep walking through the days
With silence curled inside my chest …

Like a candle flickering in wind
Still burning in shadows
Still standing in the cold …

Like a boat on stormy water
Still floating with holes
Still rowing toward the dark …

Like a tree in winter’s grip
Still rooted in frost
Still waiting for bloom …

Like a cracked cup on a shelf
Still holding warm tea
Still passed from hand to hand …

Like a bird with torn wings
Still singing at dawn
Still watching the sky …

Ask me how
How I keep walking through the days
With silence curled inside my chest
Isn’t that what surviving means?

Stillness

I think I have learnt something of the value of stillness. I don’t fret so much; I laugh at myself more often; I don’t laugh at others. I live life at my own pace. Like a banyan tree. Is this wisdom, or is it just old age?”

Ruskin BondA Book of Simple Living: Brief Notes from the Hills