On a more modest level, the
ownership of a personal patch of property in Western societies has been pushed
into people’s psychs from an early age. The idea that you ‘need’ to own
property to succeed (and by that of course they, the rich, mean you have been
successful in ‘life’). Yet, despite the continual references in banks,
institutions and the world of advertising to which we are constantly visually
assaulted, it was something that strangely went against my unusual lifestyle,
even as I grew older. Travelling from place to place, never gave me the ‘want’
to live in one place more than another. I have always been at home where ever I
am. Of course I recognise, for most, it’s a question of personal security. For
security later in life that is. When you can’t do much else, but sit in your
house, have the odd trip away, until it is sold, and you have enough money to
be put into the nursing home of your choice. Unless, unfortunately, you suffer
Alzheimer’s, or some other form of dementia. Then it won’t necessarily be the
nursing home of your choice will it?
But, for most, it is the race
to obtain ‘a place of their own’. Then, once many have gone through the stress
and worry of the banks, mortgages and lawyers, they then decide to do it again
to get an ‘investment’ property. That’s where I come in these days. I rent. I’m
glad some people want to go through the stress and fear and worry of getting a
second property. However, from the moment they start down that track of gaining
‘a place of their own’, they do change. It becomes the ‘driving’ force of their
daily, weekly, monthly and yearly consideration. The panic of the fluctuations
in markets and the multiple variations of issues affecting their chosen
location.
(Continued tomorrow)
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