Brent Flower, or "Hammer" as he prefers, says that when he gave away everything he owned he felt like he could fly.

He tells how he has no regrets about walking away from a lucrative shearing business that made him a "millionaire" to sleep under a tree in a Launceston park.

"There's a lot of thought that we need all this stuff to be happy," he said.

"I believe it's a falsity.

"I've lived with a lot of stuff and, believe it or not, I'm happier under the tree than with all my stuff."

On his last day in Launceston, Hammer talked to the ABC about his journey from wealth and success, to his darkest days in remote western Tasmania before newfound happiness sleeping under a tree in Launceston.

He has now left Launceston using money he found in parking meters to travel to Kangaroo Island, South Australia, and volunteer his labour rebuilding a bushfire-ravaged farm.

"They [the farmer] lost everything and I said 'Well, tell him we'll come down. We'll work for food'," he said.

"I'm going to go down there and do what I can to help, help where I'm needed."

Life in the rat race

Hammer and the tree that gave him shelter for two years in a park in Launceston. ( ABC Northern Tasmania: Sarah Abbott )

Hammer grew up on the North Island of New Zealand and became a professional shearer as soon as he could.

At 20 he joined the shearing world circuit, and for years he travelled the globe, shearing sheep in Scotland, Australia, and the US.

He eventually settled down in Wyoming, where he became good at big business.

"I was pretty good at the rat race. I ended up being arguably the largest shearing contractor in North America," he said.

"We covered a huge area and I had some of the best shearers in the world work for me.

"I was basically a millionaire. I had nine rentals … I had a lot of stuff."

Giving it all away

But for Hammer, wealth and possessions did not bring happiness.

"What do you win when you've got a lot of stuff? You know, it just gathers dust," he said.

Increasingly disillusioned with Western culture's obsession with affluence, Hammer questioned the purpose of life.

"What's this game about? I knew it wasn't getting more possessions — that made no sense to me," he said.

So he did what made sense to him.

"I gave it to my ex and I walked away with a suitcase," he said.

"When I gave it away I felt like I could fly. It seemed like a physical weight was taken off my shoulders. It was incredible."

Hammer at work on one of his last days in Launceston, a town he loves. ( ABC Northern Tasmania: Sarah Abbott )

Rocky road to enlightenment

Hammer said that was where his real learning journey began, through self-education via local libraries — and via an experience with despair.

On his darkest days, as he found himself on Tasmania's west coast, he said he thought, "I can't do anything here and what is the point?".

However, after deeply considering life and his circumstances, "the decision was made to live" and he sought professional help.

"The authorities helped me and here I am, and glad to be alive, by the way," he said.

Hammer has been doing local volunteer conservation work for a few days each week for a year. ( ABC Northern Tasmania: Sarah Abbott )

That's also when he decided to start giving back. "Progress," Hammer said, means helping his local community. He joined the Launceston branch of non-profit environmental restoration group Conservation Volunteers Australia.

"I've spent two or three days a week with Conservation Volunteers and I've immensely enjoyed that," he said.

Team leader of the group Grant Houniet said Hammer was a "sensational" volunteer.

"He's energetic, strong, has a great attitude, and he motivates other people around him," he said.

Hammer also makes a point of picking up rubbish whenever he's walking around town and even attends to clogged stormwater drains and overflowing bins.

"They say you wanna leave the world a better place, so … it looks better behind me than in front of me," he said.

"I believe I'm giving back to the community by the things I do. Giving for what I'm receiving."

Hammer likes to pick up rubbish he sees as he his wanders his neighbourhoods. ( ABC Northern Tasmania: Sarah Abbott )

Living on the streets

Still an NZ citizen he did not qualify for assistance from Centrelink, for which he was glad.

"I believe, to some extent, you can become reliant on that and it's sort of a trap in itself," he said.

He was grateful for "perks", like the odd free breakfast and shower from the Salvation Army and a $25 voucher for supermarket food once a month. Like the $50 note that blew in front of him on a footpath, enough for the bus from Adelaide to Kangaroo Island.

And then there was his tree to be thankful for, the one he slept under for two years.

"That goes beyond words — the appreciation and love I have for that tree," he said.

Hammer said he was grateful to have a tree to call home. ( ABC Northern Tasmania: Sarah Abbott )

"Because you actually need a place to call home. Because if you're homeless and carrying everything with you, that's a whole other ball game."

End of a chapter

As he prepared to take up Mr Houniet's offer to drive him to the airport, Hammer said leaving Launceston and his tree was "bittersweet".

"All adventures come to a close at some stage and new ones begin. I've loved it here. I love this town," he said.

"I gotta say it, say this from the bottom of my heart, it's been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. And I've done a lot of things. I've been around the world a lot of times."