This morning, I was reading the account of a Malaysian living in London who organised "mini-retirements" of several months while continuing to work. Reading it made me want to share my own journey as a digital nomad — not as a model to follow, but as a lived experience for those who are questioning their own path.
My professional life is not made up of "mini-retirements" or "mini-breaks", but of a continuous path where rest and work blend harmoniously. Since Covid, remote working has become possible. In many companies and organisations, hybrid working seems to have become the norm. Freelancers like me, who answer to no hierarchy, have more flexibility to work from abroad, provided clients accept online service delivery. I work in professional training and, since Covid, I have chosen this lifestyle for half the year — part of it in Europe, the other part in Southeast Asia.
Who I am
I am 60 years old. I am Belgian, self-employed, and a digital nomad for roughly six months a year in Southeast Asia since Covid. Many people envy this lifestyle. I sometimes envy their stability. But I have a personality that drives me towards new experiences, other cultures, environments that challenge me and help me grow.
What is curious is that I identify more with the aspirations of Generation Z than with those of my contemporaries. "You live like a retired person who works," someone once told me. I reject both words. "Retirement" — stepping back from what, exactly? From life? And "work" — no, because what I do today is a pleasure. I have banned both words from my vocabulary.
My professional journey
At 12, a history teacher introduced me to Ancient Greece. I wanted to become an archaeologist. At 15, a teacher told me: "The prospects in archaeology are limited." That made me think. At 17, I spent a year in the United States on the Rotary student exchange programme — my first immersion in a radically different culture.
On my return from the States, I surprised my parents: "I want to study law." Not out of passion — I found the subject off-putting — but out of strategy. Law seemed like a door that would allow me to find work I enjoyed. Six years of study, with an additional year in European law. Studies without great enthusiasm, but with a solid work method inherited from my school years.
My first role was divided between a law firm and the university. I quickly left the legal profession — it was not my path. The university offered something closer to what I wanted: organising conferences with everything that entails logistically — hotel, meals, transport, editing proceedings... I then received a grant to learn Spanish in Madrid for a year. I followed that with a year in London at the Representation of the European Commission. A fantastic place to work, a stone's throw from Big Ben. After a brief return to the university in Belgium, I went to work in Strasbourg, France — a three-year contract in European mediation. A lawyer's job, without passion, but well paid.
It was in Strasbourg that everything changed. I began a training course in somatic therapy. For the first time, I was learning not out of obligation, but out of passion. Psychology fascinated me. A new world was opening up: the world of interiority and its conscious and unconscious mechanisms. My Strasbourg contract was not renewed — and paradoxically, that was a liberation. Unemployed for three years, I did not sit idle: I created an NGO (Humani Psy International) and continued to train, particularly in coaching and mindfulness (the Soto Zen path).
The life choice that changed everything
At 39, I returned to Belgium, without a job, without a clear professional identity. Everything had to be rebuilt. I was leaving behind a recognised professional identity — lawyer — to step into a new one still to be constructed. A difficult period, full of doubt and uncertainty. Since I had free time, I returned to evening psychology classes at university, to add a human dimension to my academic background, which was still very much centred on law. I then began accompanying people in therapy, facilitating groups, and offering workshops as a trainer.
Around that time, I came across a book written by a billionaire. The title: Die Broke. A simple idea that left a deep impression on me: why work flat out until 65 and enjoy life when you no longer have the energy to do so? I was nearly 40. It was now that I wanted to live.
I then set three rules for taking on my new professional identity as a freelance trainer:
- My activity would no longer be work, but a pleasure. No more watching the clock. I never wear a watch, as it happens.
- I work part-time. The other half is dedicated to learning, reading, travelling.
- I will not retire for as long as I have the health to continue my activity. Why stop doing what I love? A retired person is often more active, because they are finally doing what they enjoy.
The life of the self-employed — master of my own time
In 2009, I began delivering training as a subcontractor for European institutions. Breaking in was difficult, patience was essential. But little by little, requests came in and a reputation was built.
This rhythm of life is not that of an employee: sometimes two very intense weeks, sometimes two quiet ones. You have to accept this irregularity — and even appreciate it. When everyone else is working, I can go for a run in the forest, read, take my time. My diary is my only boss. The boundary between private life and professional life becomes blurred — I sometimes respond to a client after a morning jog in the forest.
Covid — and the revelation of Tenerife
Then Covid arrived. Everything stopped. Nothing could function as before. When face-to-face training stopped, my fellow trainers and I all moved to distance learning on Teams or Zoom. A forced transformation, uncomfortable at first, which turned out to be an immense opening for me. It opened me up to a new way of offering my training services.
In 2020, as the airspace was about to close, I left for Tenerife, a Spanish island off the coast of Morocco. A mild climate and sunshine all year round. I was experiencing my first real nomadic life. I was in a flat share in Tenerife, in a large house, with five flatmates of different nationalities, with an average age of 25-30. I was 55 — the oldest. And yet I fitted naturally into the group. In the mornings, online training sessions. In the afternoons, the beach.
Asia — the confirmation
After Covid, I tested the same model from Thailand. Then Cambodia. Then Penang, in Malaysia. Five months of travel, delivering training 10,000 kilometres away from my European participants. No problems whatsoever. Southeast Asia has a decisive advantage: the time difference works in my favour. A training session starting at 9am in Belgium corresponds to 3pm in Southeast Asia — perfect.
I was learning the life of a digital nomad and its rules: stable wifi, backup hotspot, reliable laptop, a quiet space, a technical check 30 minutes before each session. Constant vigilance across two time zones simultaneously. And free time that requires discipline in balancing private and professional life. And... the pleasure of doing work I love in a tropical setting. Not with a "holiday" mindset, though. It is a different posture — much more connected to the local culture. I learn a great deal.
And this is my life for the moment.
One important clarification: I am not married and I have no children. My situation is similar to that of a young person from Generation Z who does not yet have a family. With a partner, with children, the path would be different — but not impossible. It is all a matter of preparation. Follow your heart, your passions, but with the wisdom of the mind. The heart sets the direction, the mind builds the way.
My keys to a life as a digital nomad
- Flexibility and adaptability — adjusting without resistance
- Time discipline — juggling two time zones demands rigour
- Technological reliability — wifi, backup, dependable equipment
- Curiosity and openness — letting yourself be shaped by the cultures you encounter
- Financial reserves — at least one year without income
- Solid health insurance — non-negotiable abroad
- Continuous learning — never resting on your existing skills
Today's challenges
The rapid development of AI will transform — and eliminate — many jobs. Organisations are changing at a pace nobody truly masters. Uncertainty is no longer the exception; it is the norm. I am convinced that the freelance, self-employed position offers more security today than salaried employment, provided you learn to ride the wave of change and opportunity.
My personal response to the challenges of the digital nomad life:
- Learn to ride the wave of change rather than be overwhelmed by it
- Continue developing new skills, without ever stopping
- Build solid, balanced foundations in life — a rich personal life is also a professional safeguard
- Build safety nets — financial, but also health-related