I don't own designer clothes, or a sports car, or a huge house

Roz Savage once declared with a voice both humble and heroic: “I don’t own designer clothes, or a sports car, or a huge house, but I am seeing the world, experiencing amazing things, and I have become an environmental campaigner.” At first, these words may appear as a simple contrast between possessions and experiences, but beneath them lies the ancient struggle of mankind: to choose between the fleeting wealth of objects and the eternal richness of purpose. Her confession is not one of lack, but of abundance—an abundance measured not in gold or stone, but in vision, in memory, and in service to the earth.

By rejecting designer clothes, the sports car, and the huge house, Roz Savage refuses the idols of her age. These treasures, though gleaming, are brittle, for they bind the soul in endless hunger. The ancients warned of this. The Stoics taught that wealth without virtue is slavery, and the Buddha abandoned his palace to discover enlightenment. Savage stands in this same lineage, teaching through her own life that possessions are not the measure of greatness. Instead, true wealth lies in seeing the world, in walking the wide earth with open eyes, and in carrying within one’s heart the wonder of its beauty.

Her words also remind us that amazing things are not locked behind gates of privilege, but are available to those who dare to step beyond comfort. To row across oceans, to climb mountains, to speak for the forests and seas—these are not acts of the idle, but of the bold. In choosing adventure over possession, she has discovered experiences that no garment or mansion could equal. The ancients would have called this the heroic path: to trade safety for purpose, to trade excess for meaning.

In saying, “I have become an environmental campaigner,” Savage reveals the deepest fruit of her journey: service. Her experiences have not led her only to personal joy, but to responsibility. For to see the world truly is to see also its wounds—the poisoned seas, the melting ice, the forests stripped bare. Her path echoes that of prophets and warriors who, after glimpsing truth, could not remain silent. Like Moses descending with the law, like Rachel Carson raising her voice against the “silent spring,” Roz Savage has turned her journeys into testimony, a call for others to awaken.

History offers many parallels. Francis of Assisi, who cast aside wealth to walk barefoot among the poor, also became a champion of nature and the voiceless. He, too, rejected palaces and robes, choosing instead a life rich in simplicity, service, and love of creation. Roz Savage’s words belong to this tradition, reminding us that the measure of life is not what we hoard, but what we protect and what we give.

The lesson is clear: seek not only possessions, but experiences that deepen the soul. Strive not for a huge house, but for a vast heart. Do not clothe yourself only in fabric, but in wisdom gathered from the rivers, the mountains, the stars. And let your journeys, however great or small, turn you toward service, for the earth cries out for guardians. The path of true wealth is the path of stewardship—where what you gain is not measured in coin, but in the healing you bring to the world.

So let these words be carried as a teaching: abandon the false treasures of vanity, and embrace the living treasures of experience, wonder, and responsibility. Be not afraid to live simply, if simplicity allows you to live fully. See the world. Learn from it. And when you return, speak for it. In this way, like Roz Savage, you will find that you own little, but you are rich beyond measure, for your wealth will be carved not in stone or silk, but in the eternal memory of a life lived in harmony with the earth.