How to Spend it - Town Mouse, Country Mouse.

I recently stumbled across an article in Forbes magazine, comparing two pieces of real estate. The first was a 996-square-foot "tear-down" in West Los Angeles. I had to look up the term "tear-down". It is basically a house that no-one wants to live in, and is far cheaper to knock down and build from scratch, than to fix up.

The second property, was a 4,806-square-foot Château in France on 24 acres, with 8 ensuite bedrooms and a guest house. They were both listed for the same price.

At first, the comparison seems ridiculous to make - silly, really. One comes with turrets, masses of parkland, centuries of history and enough rooms to permanently mislay your wife. The other, comes with what I imagine to be a very desirable postcode and - if we're using real-estate euphemisms - "a healthy appreciation for such an efficient use of space".

It's one of those surface-level comparisons where the reaction would be "who on earth would buy that L.A. house just to have to knock it down and build another one?" "Who wouldn't just buy the Château..".. France wins, case closed, end of story.

Except it isn't. The question is not "what does the money buy?" The real question is what the buyer is actually buying.

In Los Angeles, the buyer is not actually opting to purchase 996 sq/feet. They are buying proximity - to work, to convenience. They are buying climate, connection and community. Access to a particular way of life. That is where they work. That is where their friends live. It's where they're from.

Meanwhile, here in France, the future Château-owner is not just after stone walls, a sweeping staircase, 300 years of history and a vast collection of salons that lead to an eventual change of postcode. They are getting space, silence, privacy and possibility. A very different way of life.

Neither purchase is irrational, and neither buyer is "wrong".

Yet it is remarkable how quickly we assume that everyone values the same things we do. How quick we are to find that judgemental posture that says "why would you spend that, on that?"

The Town Mouse looks at the château and sees lonely isolation. The Country Mouse looks at the L.A. City pad and sees limits and confinement. One views freedom in movement, the other looks at freedom in stillness. And both are probably bang on.

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As Vanessa and I often discover whilst scrolling through what we like to term "lottery listings" over morning coffee, different real estate properties have a peculiar way of revealing what we think we want from life. Some dream of walking to cafés, galleries and restaurants. Others dream of hearing nothing but birdsong and crickets. Neighbours or horizons, excitement or peace.

Most of us, if we're honest, would quite like a little of both.

The older I get, the more I suspect that buying property is one of the most visible expressions of our priorities. It is less about what we can "afford" and more about what we are trying to optimise. Time over convenience; nature over community.

What we live in and where it is, simply becomes the physical manifestation of whichever of those things - (and the list is much longer...) - we value most.

This is perhaps why people become so passionate when discussing where they live. It is also the principal reason why sometimes our imaginations get the better of us. Vanessa and I hear and indeed meet so many people who have re-located to rural France, imagining sunsets and Rosé, coffee and croissants, only to find themselves missing everything about "home" that you could wave a stick at. We think we are debating property prices, floor plans and locations, when in reality we are often weighing up entirely different philosophies of life. Our preferences evolve because we evolve.

Which brings us neatly back to the little house in Los Angeles and the Château in France.

The comparison isn't really about property at all. It's about value. Not dollars and cents value, but personal value. What will make our lives richer? What are we hoping to experience more of, in the extremely short time we have left? If I had my way, I would buy the Château and hope my kids and their kids would visit often. In reality, I know they will not. They are town mice with much to discover. They have kids with schools to attend, jobs to serve, expensive coffees to consume and friends to hang out with. They are currently unwilling to trade one for the other. Not yet at least.

So really, folks, the Château is not competing with the house, they are both just offering a different answer to the same question. How do you want to spend your life? That is all we are buying. The answer to that.

I am really very lucky to have lived for long periods of time, in Japan, Hong Kong, Bali, Australia, Singapore, Italy and France. I have realised - through this amazing good fortune - that every place sells a dream. The trick is to understand which dream you are buying. The French Château sounds amazing, until you see your heating bill. The 100 sq/meter L.A. place sounds so convenient, until you have spent 2 hours in freeway traffic, with a pizza getting cold, on the front seat.

So the question is not how to spend our money. The question is how we spend our lives.

On Platform 13, wholeness isn’t found - it’s remembered. Because loss is loss, worthiness is universal, and no one is alone. We are all in this together.