2024-02-11 is living selfishly selfish?

I'm naturally selfish. I mean, I have to acknowledge that. But by being, by selfish, I don't mean that I can't share or don't share, but mostly don't need to and I live alone so I don't have to. And when I say selfish, I don't mean it in a negative way. I just know what I need. So maybe that's not selfish. Maybe that's self-centred. I don't know. Normally these are negative things to be accused of. But I know what works for me. I've practised and thought about and experimented to the point where the idea of being efficient means that there's a certain way of doing things, a certain way things need to be for me. It's not that I can't cope with or accept things being different for a bit, but ultimately I know what works for me. I don't know what works for someone else and so it's very difficult for me to spend a lot of time with someone else where we have our own differences and are expected to somehow make allowance for that. I mean, the challenge of compromise isn't undoable. It's just wearing, taxing over long periods so that there is a tendency to create space to be separate while together in order to find some way to do what I would naturally do were I were alone and not affecting anybody else. So is that selfish? Maybe. But I'm not affecting anybody else so in a sense it's irrelevant. I just do what I feel works for me. It may not even be the best thing to do, but it is the best thing that I've been able to come up with. Like I said, it's been honed, refined, finessed, and there's still room for adjustment and shifting, but there doesn't need to be because there already has been. And so I don't have to think about it. I don't have to find what works. It just works and that frees me to either just be or also to be able to see something that hasn't yet been refined to that level because I live in a very small way, in a small space, unconventionally in a van, having only what I need, although that has seemed to be quite a lot more than I expected. Things tend to be multifunctional. Things are repurposed and reused and repaired and held on to and made the best of. There is a sense of efficiency and yet it is still more complicated than I had imagined, but then in such a small space, one has to be very disciplined. Things have to be put away. Nothing is left out and in a way that interferes with being neutral in a sense. Even if one thing out of a sense of laziness isn't put back in its place where it usually goes so that I don't have to think about where it might be, I just automatically know it's there and then it isn't there, it messes with me for a moment and I remember I did not put it back and now I understand the importance of why I must. Not that things can't be in other places, it's just that they must be where it's best for them to be, where I know where they are and that creates a sense of order in a small space where I live full time. I couldn't do that with another person present, not that there's enough room for another person to be present other than what this vehicle was originally intended for, which would be short experiences, a few days, here and there. Everyone can deal with that, but full time, no, you would need a much bigger space which would be very different and I've lived in a much bigger space, yet single room, and that's a problem. And so I've realised, perhaps quite some time ago, but only in the last two years have I been living like this, how much it gives me in space to be myself. It isn't very easy to be myself out in the world amongst all the other selves trying to be themselves. I have no tendency to control or to dominate or to manipulate or to judge what other people do and so there is a tendency to defer and to step back and to be peripheral. Whereas here in the van, there is only me, only I exist. This is my little world, my little space and I don't really move it except just to do what is necessary for it. It is my home. As I said, it's unconventional, but it's not original. Many people live in their vans and many vans are far better suited to living in. But I'm able to live in this, perhaps in a way that many others would not be, and to feel comfortable and have freedom, and that freedom is what I need. And I feel like I am myself here. And it is not always easy, or even wanted really, as I no longer need, have the need to fit in, to be accepted, to be part of a group. I'm okay with being an outsider. I've been an outsider pretty much all my life, but a lot of my life I haven't wanted to be an outsider. And so I have done things, said things, appeared to be things so that the others around me, who it seemed were more important than they were, should accept me and I feel part of. I've never felt part of family. I've had family, but never felt a part of them. And while I have had friends, individuals over the years who I have felt very close to, who have felt like brother at times, never lasted because, of course, the paths must diverge. Even marriages don't always last. And even those that do may only last because it's easier to keep going than to actually accept that things don't really work. But you find ways to just make them work. You can tolerate, you can accept, and that's part of the journey. For me, to be with someone, they must be my friend, my best friend. And while we don't have to do everything together, we could do anything together and want to. And that's a lovely feeling to have someone who has your back, who thinks of you, who cares about you, and you do the same for them. I've experienced it and it is lovely. But our differences and the way we do things, having been not together for the vast majority of our life until we decide we're going to try, seems to be too much to overcome for somebody who is and who needs things to be as they work best. My idea of what works best and efficiency isn't necessarily going to be someone else's. And compromising interferes with my natural tendency to do what feels to be right. I lose myself because I want to compromise. I want to do what makes the other happy, what makes the other feel comfortable and at peace. I want to do that. It's part of giving myself to them, loving them. But I slowly lose myself as a result. And I'm not supposed to do that. No one is. So I live now just with me in mind. I come and I go and I watch things that I want and I eat when I want and I sleep when I want and I do what I want in my little space. I don't have to think about it. I don't have to consider anyone else's sensitivities. And I do my best to make sure that other people's lives and actions don't interfere with me. And if that means being reclusive, so be it. I like my own company now. I suppose I've always liked my own company. I've always had to rely on my own company ever since I was a kid. Now in my 60s, I finally understand that I don't need anybody else. I quite like spending time with some other people sometimes. But for the most part, I don't need anybody else. And that gives me another level of freedom. It doesn't matter what other people think or say. It doesn't matter how they see me. I don't have to be acceptable. Sure, I live in society, or at least peripherally, and so it serves me to do things that are acceptable within society. Even if my natural state isn't very social or sociable, and social niceties are not something I always practice. Less and less, in fact. But there are some that are just natural to me. Politeness, consideration, kindness. They don't go, but it might be seen by some sometimes as if I don't have them, just because I'm not aware of them and doing things in my own way. I live in my own world, even when I go out into the shared world. But when I am back in my van, and I spend a lot of time here, especially when it is cold and wet, I become very used to only doing what works for me. And I like that. And so if that makes me selfish or self-centred, self-absorbed, then that's how it is.