Once a Cheater

My kids enjoy playing at a local trampoline park. When we go, Pax's favorite area is the dodgeball court. Yes, trampoline dodgeball.....it's as fun as you'd think. However, there's always one glaring issue at play: cheaters galore. A kid gets hit square in the chest, then acts like it never happened. Another kid catches a stray on the leg, and completely ignores it. Everyone pretends like it never happened. Then, when other kids start calling people out for their cheating, the lies start flowing out of their mouths. "I hit it with the ball." "It hit the wall first." "Someone caught it."

When I watch these dynamics play out, all I can think about is the saying, "Once a cheater, always a cheater." It isn't absolutely true, but there's certainly some truth to it. Cheating is a slippery slope. It starts out like an innocent game of dodgeball. There are rewards for this level of cheating. You don't have to exit the game and wait for your turn to go back in....and you help your team win. And when someone calls you out as a cheater, you just deny it, and there are really no consequences. So, from an early age, we are taught the pros of cheating outweigh the cons.

Again, it's fairly innocent, and there aren't any significant victims. However, if someone is willing to lie and cheat on something with nothing material at stake, how will they behave when there's something real on the line? Maybe it's that math test. Maybe it's clocking in 15 minutes before a work shift technically starts. Successful cheating breeds more cheating.

Again, these aren't life-altering crimes. Over time, though, we get older, the stakes rise, and we become more confident/comfortable in our cheating ways. Also, as time passes, it doesn’t feel so innocent anymore. Now, there are real victims.

We all know cheaters in our lives. They range somewhere between annoying and revolting. These are the people who cut corners, look for the easy way, find loopholes and technicalities, turn their back on obligations, and betray someone for a few dollars. These types of people often find success at the micro level. They score an opportunity here or a deal there. They benefit where they can. They are transactional. They are always looking for an edge. And they find it….for a while.

However, these types of people usually lose in the long run. People lose trust in them. People tire of their games. They don't have any actual discipline or work ethic to carry them when the cheating behavior stops working.

As parents, we must teach our children the proper way to behave. We need to teach (and more importantly, model) a zero-tolerance approach to cheating. It needs to carry into every area of our life, including the simplest and silliest little games. Doing the right thing is always the right thing, even when it doesn't benefit us.

The slippery slope is indeed slippery. Together, we can help bend the culture in a positive direction….but it starts with our own behavior.

Walking Looks Crazy to a Crawler

Raising twins is a trip. To be honest, I don’t know any other version of parenting than having two kids the same age. Being a dad to these two little boys has been one of the greatest blessings of my life. While flying home from Texas last night, I was thumbing through old pictures and videos. Parents, you know what I’m talking about! While on my little nostalgic adventure, I stumbled on something I hadn’t seen before. Well, it’s a video I’ve seen dozens of times, but a detail in the background has escaped me until now.

The subject of the video is Pax walking for the first time. It’s a precious video, and I’m grateful I was present for his first steps. But last night, I couldn’t get over what happened in the background. There was Finn, witnessing the event unfolding. He was watching, but he had a look of absolute bewilderment. To Finn, Pax might as well have been using magic or voodoo. As an avid crawler himself, watching his twin brother walk for the first time looked mind-bogglingly crazy.

Today, as a first grader, it’s safe to say the act of walking has been normalized for Finn. It’s been many years since he’s even thought about the process involved in putting one foot in front of the other. He eventually graduated to running, then jumping, then becoming a little ninja. Yet, back then, it was the craziest thing he had ever seen.

So many things in life are like this. I have financial habits I’ve been doing for so long that it’s simply muscle memory now. On the flip side, I can meet with a 40-something who looks at these habits with the same bewilderment Finn had all those years ago. Walking looks crazy to a crawler. Truth is, we all have to crawl at something before we can walk. Getting on a budget. Paying off debt. Investing in retirement. Giving. Running a business. The list goes on and on.

I just met with a young couple I have been coaching for about six months. They had a TON of debt…..more than $100,000 of student loans. When we started working together, all of this money stuff was foreign to them. They didn’t know where to start. I suggested they begin by crawling. We created their first budget….scary! I challenged them to pay off $700 of student loan debt that first month…..scary! They were crawling. Fast forward six months, and they now consider budgeting second nature. They also paid off $5,000 of debt just last month. They are running! And just like little Finny man once he learned to run, you’ll never catch them. They are off to the races!

Please let this be your encouragement today. Yes, there are things in your world that feel intimidating and uncomfortable. But trust me, if you have the courage to give it a shot, you’ll quickly progress from crawling, to walking, and maybe even running.

The Release Valve in Practice

In yesterday's post, I explained how meaningful work is a release valve to so much time and financial pressure. Instead of hoarding money and sucking up miserable work in pursuit of an earlier-the-better retirement, I propose that we ought to consider the pursuit of meaningful work. When we do, we don't feel pressured to race to the finish line. This provides for a more meaningful life and less pressure to hoard assets to create the escape hatch. 

A few readers reached out to ask questions about this concept. I admit, it's counter-cultural. I'm honored people would take the time to consider these wild ideas. A few people asked if I could give an example of the release valve in practice. Here's a real-life situation someone recently approached me with. I'll use round-ish numbers to make it more digestible:

• Age: 30

• Current Investments: $100,000

• Desired Retirement Age: 50

• Desired Retirement Income: $100,000/year in today's dollars

• Job Status: He's currently in a high-paying job that he despises. It's sucking the life out of him. Zapped energy, he's a jerk to his wife, and he travels a LOT. However, it pays a lot of money......

• The Situation: He desires to save as much money as possible, as quickly as possible, so he "only" has to do this for 20 more years.....tops. His question to me was how much money he needs to invest (er, hoard) to make that goal a reality. 

Here's the math. For him to retire at age 50 with an annual retirement income equal to $100,000 in today's dollars (using 3% inflation, a 9% return, and the 4% rule for withdrawals), he needs to invest approximately $5,900/month between age 30 and 50. In other words, he'll continue working a job he absolutely hates (but "only" for 20 more years), sock away nearly $6,000/month, and have little income left to actually live a life. 

He oddly seemed excited about this. However, I threw out a few alternatives. First, I shared the numbers for a more traditional retirement at age 60. To get the same $100,000 retirement income (in today's dollars), he would need to invest $2,700/month between age 30 and 60. That's less than half! He hated this idea. To him, it means he has to put up with a miserable job for 30 years instead of 20. Or, as he put it, "I'll never survive that."

Then, I showed him the release valve. I showed him what an age 70 retirement could look like. I caveated one point, though. It's not 40 years of misery.......rather, 40 years of meaning. In this scenario, he would need to invest $1,100/month from age 30 to 70 to get the same $100,000 annual income (in today's dollars). For one-fifth of the monthly cost, he can live a meaningful life, pursue work that matters, and have the cash flow flexibility to travel and make memories with his small children.

The verdict? Option #1: "20 years doesn't sound so bad. It will go by fast." Sadly, I think he's right. It will most certainly go by in the blink of an eye. 

The Release Valve of Meaningful Work

In a recent talk, I commented about how I don't believe in retirement. I could see faces in the audience shift in real-time. When we got to my favorite part of the talk, the Q&A, someone asked a question that delighted me. "Don't you ever want to actually enjoy your life?" This was a sharp and direct question. I could see many in the audience get uncomfortable, anticipating a potentially awkward exchange. Here's a paraphrasing of my answer:

• I'm enjoying my life today more than ever…..while working harder than I've ever worked. 

• Work should add value to our lives, not impair it. 

• If I ever get to the point where my work becomes a negative, it's time to find new work. 

• "Enjoying" life doesn't directly correlate to a life of leisure. They aren't one and the same.

• Speaking of leisure, it's important to periodically take time to rest, travel, and adventure. This should happen during our career, not held back until after it.

Here's the typical work-to-retirement path:

1. Find work that pays as much as possible (disregarding what fulfillment it could/should provide).

2. Hoard as much money as possible along the way.

3. Reach a certain level of hoarding success as quickly as possible (60 is better than 65, 55 is better than 60, 50 is better than 55, …….).

4. Quit work and finally try to enjoy life.

This path incentivizes us to cut back on spending as much as possible (so we can aggressively invest), while we endure a job we dislike or hate, so we can get out ASAP. In other words, live with a certain level of career and financial misery for as short a window as necessary.

Here's something to think about. Meaningful work is a release valve from misery. Instead of following the path above, here's an alternative strategy:

1. Always pursue meaningful work (even if it pays less).

2. Invest consistently over a long period of time. Since you have a longer investing window and compound, you can invest less along the way and dedicate those extra resources toward more fulfilling endeavors (giving, traveling, making memories, etc.).

3. Give yourself the freedom to downshift/upshift your career as life evolves, always ensuring it adds value to your life.

4. If/When your health/energy deteriorates, be financially prepared to care for yourself. 

In the first scenario, we spend much of our adult life in some form of dissatisfaction (ranging somewhere between tolerance and misery), hoard resources instead of putting them to better use, and hope that one day, living a life of leisure is the ticket to happiness. In the second scenario, we find and sustain a meaningful life with far less time and financial pressure on ourselves.

Do I ever want to actually enjoy my life? Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I want to enjoy it today, tomorrow, and down the road. I deeply desire that and have committed my life to the continual pursuit of meaning and impact. I desire that for you, too. 

Finding Fulfillment in an Unfulfilling Job

I often think and talk about a staggering statistic from a Gallup survey. 70% of Americans dislike or hate their job. Think about that! If you put 10,000 people in a stadium, the odds are that 7,000 of them despise or merely tolerate their job. It's easy to dismiss that as not a big deal, but that's where we spend half our waking hours. That's sad!

My first advice for people who feel disengaged in their jobs is to find something different. I truly believe this. I think most people in the 70% camp could significantly improve their lives simply by changing jobs. There are many reasons why people feel this way, but in many cases, a change is needed. 

However, I'd like to take a different approach to this dilemma today. Many drivers of our dissatisfaction are external. A crappy boss, a toxic culture, a lack of impact, tasks that don't align with our skillset, a rough work environment, hours/shifts that drain you.....the list goes on. These are all valid reasons for job dissatisfaction. 

On the flip side, there are internal drivers causing us misery in our job. Or more accurately, there are internal drivers that prevent us from finding meaning in our work. Let's face it, some jobs just suck. I once worked in a cheese factory (*not a Cheesecake Factory). That job sucked. I also worked for the U.S. Census Bureau for the 2000 census. That job sucked even more (which will happen when multiple people pull guns on you). We've all had crappy jobs, and some of you are in one today. It's easy to just see these jobs as utterly terrible, but when we do, we sell ourselves short.

Regardless of where you're at or what you're doing, I think we all have the power to find fulfillment in a bad job. Our perspectives move the needle for us. If we believe everything is terrible, it is. If we believe there's good in something, there is. With that context, I'll share a few simple ways we can create fulfillment in an unfulfilling job:

• We use our time (and resulting income) to help propel ourselves to where we really want to be. It gives a dead-end situation a purpose.

• We embrace our relationships on the job. Even in the worst jobs, some of those relationships can be blessings.

• We focus on the impact we're making. Sure, the work might suck, but we still have an opportunity to serve others and make a difference. That matters!

• We use it as an opportunity to gain more experience, skills, and momentum.

• We get to use the income from the job to care for our family and move the financial needle in our lives. Our hard work is not in vain!

Yes, I think you should leave a job you tolerate or hate. I'll die on that hill. In the meantime, finding fulfillment in an otherwise unfulfilling situation is possible. Don't let the meaning slip away.

You Don’t Have to Buy That Car

As I was scrolling through Twitter yesterday, I stumbled upon a Tweet about the latest auto loan statistics. What I saw astounded me (but not really). It's unfortunately the way of the world, and I've long ago conceded we as a culture will continue to let vehicles steal our dreams and sabotage our finances. I sound dramatic, don't I? I'll share the numbers with you, then let you decide for yourself. In the third quarter of 2023, here are the metrics for the AVERAGE new car loan: 

• Loan Balance: $40,200

• Monthly Payment: $726

• Loan Term: 5.7 years

I remember the first time I saw a $1,000 car payment. It was shocking. These days, I see a new one nearly every week. I now regularly see $1,500 car payments. Yes, you read that correctly. $1,500/month for something we drive. 

Most of the time, when the car payment elephant in the room comes up with a client or prospective client, there's a "but."

• But…our last car broke down.

• But…we needed something with fewer miles.

• But…we needed something safer.

• But...we needed something newer.

• But…we needed something more reliable.

"But" is the gateway to a self-sabotaging financial decision. It's common to see families with $1,500-$2,000 of monthly car payments, while simultaneously feeling stuck and victimized by their lack of financial margin. The primary reason we get ourselves into this mess is using any number of reasons to justify what we already want to do.....and what we already want to do is have a sweet ride. 

I have good news to share with you today. You don't have to buy that car. Nobody is holding a gun to our heads and forcing us to make significant life-altering financial decisions. Yes, we need transportation. But we don't need a vehicle corresponding to a massive monthly payment. I'd even take it a step further and argue we don't need a vehicle that requires any car payment whatsoever.

Sarah and I haven't had car payments for more than 14 years. It's not because we make so much money, but rather because we made a commitment to never again have a car payment. It's amazing how refusing to go into debt results in not having debt. However, this commitment requires us to make intentional decisions. You know, crazy, insane decisions like buying used cars with some miles, maintaining them, holding them for many years, and slowly saving for the next car along the way. I drive a car with 125,000 miles, and she drives one with 175,000 miles. They run well. They occasionally break. We fix them. Repeat. At some point in time, it will make sense to sell them, add money from our car sinking fund, and upgrade to newer vehicles with fewer miles. 

Along the way, there are two realities we continually face:

Reality #1: Our car game isn't sexy. Far from it. It's kinda lame. 

Reality #2: Our unsexy car game allows us to live a life full of flexibility, margin, generosity, impact, and meaning. 

You don't have to buy that car.

It’s Not Meaning OR Money

Last night, more than 100 million people tuned in to watch a bunch of grown men play a game. Further, these grown men get paid millions of dollars to play their game. They drive fast cars, wear stylish clothes, take exotic trips, and their faces are plastered on billboards and TV screens all around the country. We idolize these athletes, yet at the same time, label them as only caring about money.

I couldn't disagree more! Yes, they make ridiculous money. Brock Purday famously makes "only" $850,000 this season......which is almost nothing for an NFL player. Patrick Mahomes, on the other hand, is making $37 million this season. Yeah, these players make a ton of money that's hard for us normal people to comprehend.

However, I don't think it's as simple as pigeonholing them as caring only about the money. It's not either/or. This isn't about having meaning OR money. In the world of meaning over money, I'm not asking people to choose meaning or money. I'm just asking them to choose meaning. When we do, in many cases, the money will often follow. Why? Because when we put our gifts, talents, passions, blood, sweat, and tears into our craft, we can't help but have some level of financial success. These NFL players didn't get to where they are by caring about money. They got here because they are gifted and worked extremely hard every step of their career. Their career is full of meaning!

Don't just take my word for it. You can see it with your own eyes. Tears flowing down cheeks during the national anthem. Passion flowing from them, whether it's ultimate joy or livid anger. Players sacrificing their bodies for the fans and their teammates. There was so much intensity on that field last. Yes, there was a lot of money at play. But I would argue the passion was greater.

The same goes for us. We don't have to choose between meaning and money. We just need to choose meaning. The rest will take care of itself. We might not make $37 million like Patrick Mahomes, or even $850,000 like Brock Purdy, but we will find our own version of financial rewards. Whatever that number is, it's not the definition of your success.

Don't be afraid to earn and receive financial blessings. But at the same time, don't let them (or the lack thereof) define your success.

The Contagiousness of Sharing

As you know, I'm a connoisseur of culinary delights. For that reason, I'm excited to report that I took my family to Taco Bell yesterday. Maybe it's nostalgia from my childhood (Cinnamon Twists were my first love), but I always get a little giddy when Taco Bell hits the daily itinerary.

Per usual, I ordered a bunch of food for our family to share (it's the best way to enjoy meals, in my weird and humble opinion). In any event, we ordered our food, and Sarah's sister's family ordered their own food. I ended up seated next to my niece Ruby. When their food came out, she was immediately struck with regret for forgetting to order Cinnamon Twists (amateur!). My reaction was swift and decisive. I grabbed my order of Cinnamon Twists, handed them to her, and said, "Here, you can have mine."

Shocked by the quick turn of events, a huge smile formed on her face, and she thanked me repeatedly. A few minutes later, still excited about the gifted treats, she turned to me and excitedly said, "You can have some of my nachos!" What a fun and generous gesture. I could tell it wasn't from a place of guilt, but rather from a sincere desire to bless me. How sweet!

Ruby may only be eight years old, but she just experienced something that's core to the human experience. Receiving generosity is a great feeling, but it's contagious. In turn, it often propels us to practice generosity ourselves, which is an even better feeling. In other words, generosity begets generosity. Sharing begets sharing.

The same thing is true the other way around. A lack of generosity begets a lack of generosity, and a lack of sharing begets a lack of sharing. Our culture has gone down the road of you-get-yours and I'll-get-mine. Why share with someone else? If they want something, they should work hard and go get it themselves. After all, I've worked hard for what I got. That's mine! They can worry about themselves. This mentality has resulted in our culture shifting away from sharing.

Call me weird, but everything in my life is on the table for sharing. All the food in our house, the vehicle I drive, the tools and technology I possess, and the money in my bank account. It's a counter-cultural way to live, but it's more fulfilling than you could ever imagine. Here's the best part. There's a palpable and immediate contagiousness that occurs in people when we openly share with them. Their immediate reaction is often surprise and hesitation (and sometimes refusal), but it shortly transforms into reciprocal generosity (to us and/or others).

Here's a question for you to ponder today. If we intentionally and proactively show generosity to others, what would the impact be? If it's as contagious as I'm suggesting, what are the ripple effects? How wide and deep does it spread? How many thousands of people can you ultimately serve through just a few small acts?

There's only one way to find out.

Let Splurges Remain Splurges

I was working at a client site earlier this week when I was struck with a dilemma. Not an earth-shattering, life-altering dilemma. Just a normal everyday sort of dilemma. Due to some logistical snags to start the day, I didn't bring my lunch. Most days, Sarah generously makes me a lunch that I either take on my way out the door, or swing home to grab when time allows. On this day, however, I didn't have lunch and was about 15 miles from home. Thus, the dilemma.

I had a few options available. I could grab fast food for maybe $6. I could hit a nearby deli to grab a sandwich and chips for $11. I could sit down at one of the neighborhood's trendy restaurants and drop $15-$20. Typically, I'd probably go with the first or second option. Quick and inexpensive is an efficient combo. However, this time, I chose door #3. There was a highly-touted restaurant just a few blocks away, so I excitedly walked there for a unique meal. Though I sat a bit longer and spent nearly $20, it was a tremendously satisfying experience. I tried something new, it was executed with excellence, the service was top-notch, and I really enjoyed my time there.

Did I need to spend $20 on lunch? Not at all. Am I glad I did it? Absolutely! It was a fun and impulsive little splurge. I had personal money for such an occasion, it added value to my day, and I had zero guilt. That's how it's supposed to work.

There's one key word here: splurge. The fact I don't do it every day makes it a more enjoyable and guiltless endeavor. Spending $20 on lunch each day would slowly bleed me out financially (as it does for countless people.....you wouldn't believe the number of people who are literally eating their future). Once in a while, however, it becomes a fun little blessing. Too much of a good thing isn't always a good thing. We need to create scarcity in our life. Doing so allows those fun, impulsive splurges to add value to our life without breaking the bank. It creates anticipation and gives us something to look forward to. But the moment we turn a splurge into a normal part of our life, some of the magic dies. It just becomes another piece of "normal," and the lifestyle ratchet clicks up a notch.

Let splurges remain splurges. You won't regret it.

Lessons From Archie (Moonlight) Graham

Warning: This post is going to be abnormally vague for my writing. I typically try to operate with transparency and vulnerability. Today's post is a bit different. The heart behind it is completely vulnerable, but the actual idea will remain in the shadows. A few reasons: 1) I'm not ready to unveil it just yet, and 2) I want you to think about your journey, not mine.

Last night, I began embarking on a new, exciting, and terrifying journey. I'm beyond pumped for it, but it's excruciatingly uncomfortable. So much so that I didn't really sleep last night. Ideas, fears, and what-ifs were spinning around my head, and I couldn't turn it off. My anxiety and fear were in full force.

This is the tension with discomfort. Even when we know we need to do something, it's hard to follow through when the discomfort is evident. It reminds me of this scene from Field of Dreams.

Archie (Doc) Graham had one dream: get an at-bat in the big leagues. There's a lot to the story, but after hitchhiking his way to Dyersville, IA, to Ray Kinsella's farm-turned-ballfield, young Archie was living his dream. There he was, in full uniform, playing ball with some of the legends of the game. Then, the twist.

Ray's daughter Karin fell off the bleachers while eating a hot dog, causing her to choke and go unconscious. Sensing the panic, Archie turned his attention to the bleachers and jogged across the field toward the young girl. As he approached the edge of the field, he stopped. In that moment, Archie knew exactly what he needed to do. Simultaneously, he also knew how uncomfortable this moment was. He paused, and maybe even hesitated. You can cut the tension with a knife.

Then, after coming to terms with the discomfort, young Archie stepped across the line and into his destiny. He knew the sacrifice he was making by taking that step, but he also saw the bigger picture. What waited on the other side of his discomfort was something even better. He saved the young girl, and her feuding family. Despite giving up so much at that moment, you could see the peace and contentment in his eyes as he said his goodbyes and eventually disappeared into the outfield.

That movie gives my eyes allergies every time I watch it. It also holds sentimental value for me, as I lived just six miles from where it was filmed. I just wish I was old enough to have an awareness and appreciation for it back then. As we journey through life, we will encounter those Archie Graham moments. We'll walk right up to the line, then stop, because crossing it could possibly be one of the most uncomfortable and scary things we can do. It's ok to pause. Pausing doesn't define us. It's what we do after the pause that matters. Will you step across that line and into your destiny, or turn back?

I want to be like Archie.

Important to Her, Important to Me

Today, I'm bringing you a fun story from a recent coaching session. I was sitting with a young couple, discussing wins, losses, learnings, and questions from their first few months of budgeting. I could sense some tension brewing, and just as I was about to ask about it, the wife brings it to the surface. 

The wife wants to buy an item that costs approximately $500. It's important to her. She's been talking about it for a long time. Immediately, I could tell the husband was not keen on the idea. He had several reasons why they shouldn't buy it right now. His primary reason is they are in the midst of paying off student loan debt (they are crushing it, by the way!). 

What happened next is where the story gets interesting. No more than three minutes later, the husband brings up something he wants to buy soon.....which coincidentally also costs $500. Similar to the wife's desired purchase, this is clearly a want. But it's important to him. He quickly listed the reasons they should immediately pull the trigger on this item. However, in the midst of his sales pitch, he recognized the irony (and the hypocrisy). 

The real issue wasn't the debt, or a lack of resources. Instead, it was the fact he viewed his desired purchase as being important, and hers not. This is a toxic slippery slope, which needed to be immediately addressed. I quickly jumped in and shared my perspective. And since this is a commonly occurring dynamic, I thought it was worth sharing today:

• It's ok if something is a want. We need to stop demonizing wants as irresponsible and unnecessary. Wants can be nearly as important as needs, and should be treated as such.

• The husband's opinion on her desired purchase is irrelevant. If it's important to her, it's important. Period. This can be a hard pill for spouses to swallow. Since spouses have different interests and desires, it's inevitable one spouse will want something the other doesn't care about.

• If it fits within the scope of the budget and can be done without compromising their spending, saving, giving, and debt plan, they should do it. 

• Who makes how much income shouldn't play any role in the discussion. If one spouse makes 90% of the income, it's still a 50/50 decision. The moment we get married, everything we have (including our income) should be combined and viewed jointly. The words "mine" and "yours" need to be abolished and replaced with "ours."

• We aren't allowed to feel guilt when purchasing something important. Guilt cheapens the purchases and sabotages the reason we bought it. 

Ultimately, here is my recommendation. Since the husband's desired purchase has some urgency tied to it, I recommended they pull the trigger this month. However, that recommendation was contingent upon him agreeing to put her desired purchase in the budget next month. 

Be generous with your partner. If it's important to them, it should be important to you. 

Not All Heroes Wear Capes

I've had quite the run in the last two days. In a matter of 48 hours, here's who I had the privilege of spending time with:

• A former police officer who now dedicates his life to helping other officers and first responders who are dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts.

• A few high school teachers who have a passion for teaching their students about work, business, and professionalism. Their mission is to raise up the next generation of leaders by giving them the tools to enter the workforce with the skills, confidence, and momentum. 

• A pastor who has dedicated his life to serving others. His Sundays are spent preaching, but the other six days of the week are spent leading his team and counseling people who are hurting. 

• A business owner who started his company out of frustration from watching people get taken advantage of and ripped off. 

• A missionary with a heart to provide free medical care to people who may not have access to doctors or the necessary technology.

• A single mom who is raising four small children while also working a full-time career to pay the bills.

In other words, I met with a hero, a hero, a hero, a hero, a hero, and another hero. None of them wore capes. There were no masks. I couldn't tell, but I didn't see any utility belts being sported. They were all disguised as normal people just trying to do their jobs. 

Heroes are all around us, but not even the heroes know they are heroes. That's actually what makes them heroes. They aren't trying to get notoriety, praise, or compliments. And they certainly aren't trying to get rich. They are just using their gifts and passions to serve others with excellence, day in and day out. 

Maybe you're a hero and don't even know it. I hope you are, and I thank you for your service. You probably don't get enough credit for your heroism, so please consider this my formal "thank you" to start your day. I hope I'm not the only one who gives you the credit you deserve. 

Not all heroes wear capes. Please don't forget that today.

The Cost of Want

A woman recently reached out and asked for a meeting. She made it clear she wasn't interested in hiring me, but wondered if I'd be willing to give her some insights anyway. Of course! Here's the lay of the land:

• She and her husband are in their late 30s with three small children.

• They have a combined annual household income of $340,000 ($240,000 from him and $100,000 from her).

• She absolutely despises her job and yearns to stay home with their three small children.

• Her husband generally likes his job.

• If they keep doing what they are doing, they can retire "in only 15 years."

• They recently purchased a $700,000 house, which is a very nice house in our area.

• They both drive luxury vehicles, with monthly payments totaling $1,700. 

• They have a pretty boujee lifestyle, with hefty monthly expenses for dining out, spas, travel, and clothes. 

• Tension is building in the marriage around money and job stress.

With that context in mind, here was her question: "My job is miserable, and I want to stay home more than anything, but I don't know how to make it work financially." If I knew the direction this meeting would go, I would have ensured both spouses were present. Since her husband wasn't there, I asked the obvious question: "What does your husband think you should do?" She shared that he fully supports her desire to stay at home and wants to make it happen.

Based on the context she provided me, I told her it sounds like they should prioritize her staying home. They both want it, she feels called to it, and her career dissatisfaction is creating a much deeper fissure in their relationship. But what about the financial situation? I explained to her that, in my opinion, there are several options on the table to achieve their mission:

• They could cut back on their lifestyle (less clothing, less dining out, fewer spa services, and/or less travel).

• They could replace their current vehicles with something much cheaper (with the possibility of removing $1,700/month of payments).

• They could downsize their house to something more affordable (especially since they already have an interest rate commensurate with today's market).

• They could scale back their retirement contributions to set them up for a more traditional retirement age (instead of early-to-mid 50s). 

After sharing these four options, she responded, "What else?" 

Me: "What do you mean, what else?"

Her: "We can't do any of these, so what are our other options?"

Me: "Can't? Or Won't?"

Her: "Both"

She explained to me that these options are non-starters and completely off the table. When asked why, she responded, "We worked hard for them."

This is the cost of want. Without contentment, there can never be enough. When stuff wins, meaning loses. When we chase the Joneses, our own family suffers. Materialism causes us to pursue what we want now rather than what we want most. The cost of want is steep.

Her parting request was for me to share her situation with my blog and get more opinions. What say you? 

Here to Serve

Inspiration comes from the darndest places. As I was sitting here contemplating what to share today, I received a text from my often-discussed corporate client in Texas. As usual, they have interesting developments brewing and like to bounce scenarios and questions off me for my input. Some of their questions require quick and simple answers, while others require many hours of detailed contemplation and analysis. This request was of the quick and simple variety.

I told them to respond with any follow-up questions they might have, as I'm just preparing today's blog and can help however needed. One of the gentlemen jokingly responded that I should "write about people who constantly ask you to do things that you have given them the tools to do themselves and how annoying that is."

That's precisely what I will do, but I will pull a 180 on him. There is nothing annoying about this exchange whatsoever. In fact, it's a privilege and an honor. The fact my insights and expertise are desired and valued is something I never take for granted. Further, the opportunity to add value to their decision-making and overall business is a tremendous blessing. No part of me is even remotely annoyed by this. I should be sending him a thank you card for allowing me the opportunity and blessing to serve him. I'm beyond grateful.

We are here to serve. Simply put, this is the base calling in our life. We can, of course, choose to ignore it, refuse it, or turn our back on it. From the moment we wake up until we go back to bed, our day is a never-ending string of serving opportunities. Our spouse, kids, co-workers, clients, customers, neighbors, and even strangers. Nearly every interaction in our life is an opportunity (or, dare I say, duty?) to serve others.

Think about the people in your life you're attracted to. No, not that kind of attraction. The kind of attracted that you want to be in their presence. The kind that makes you want to spend time with them. The kind that makes you want to be more like them. Chances are this person is a servant. Chances are one of the primary attributes that make you (and probably others) attracted to them is their willingness and heart to serve others.

I could most certainly wake up each day with the objective of getting what I want for myself. That option is on the table. In fact, I know a lot of people who live this way. This is just one man's opinion, but that feels like an empty-calorie type of life. It might taste good for a bit, but it's anything but satiating.

The posture of service, on the other hand, is an immensely fulfilling way to live. We might not always get what we want by continually serving others, but we actually get something better: meaning, impact, and purpose. That's the irony of service. We get fed by feeding others.

The 3-Bucket E-Fund Approach

On the heels of publishing a podcast episode about this topic, a few readers suggested I share the same advice on the blog. It was an episode about my variation on the traditional emergency fund concept. 

First, what's an emergency fund? It's a specifically designated pool of money that we keep handy for when (not if) life throws us a curveball. It's not money to be used for the new iPhone or that next vacation. This is money to be used only in the event of a red-alert event. The car breaks down, someone gets sick, the furnace goes out, we lose a job, etc.

I won't get into how much we should have in our emergency fund, as it's a personal decision and a longer discussion. However, there are two main approaches: 1) 3-6 months' worth of expenses, and 2) a set dollar amount based on what the worst possible emergency could be for your family. For our example today, let's assume this family needs a total emergency fund of $25,000. 

Instead of having all $25,000 in a savings account, I like to look at it as three separate buckets. Another way to perceive it is three lines of defense. 

Bucket 1: This is money we would potentially need immediately (same day). It should be kept in a savings account attached to our checking account. It may not earn interest, but we can access it at a moment's notice. This is key!

Bucket 2: This is money we would need in a matter of days. Since we have a little timing flexibility, we can house it outside our primary bank. A high-yield savings account or money market fund would work well, as it would pay you interest, give you quick access, and have zero risk. For example, Vanguard's money market fund is currently paying 5.3%, and CapitalOne's 360 Performance Savings accounts are paying 4.3%. 

Bucket 3: This is money we have quick access to, but we'd also like it to grow over time. It's also money that is a nice-to-have, not a need-to-have. Why? Because it will be invested in the stock market and could experience ups and downs over time. A taxable brokerage account is perfect for this. If invested in the S&P 500 index or total stock market index, it should provide you with a long-term 9% (but a short-term bumpy ride). But either way, it's available for us to access as needed. Fidelity and Vanguard are both great places for these types of accounts.

Back to our example family (which also happens to be a real client). Here's how they decided to allocate their three buckets:

• Bucket 1: $4,000 in a savings account tied to their joint checking.

• Bucket 2: $10,000 in a money market fund in their Vanguard taxable brokerage account.

• Bucket 3: $11,000 in VTI (total stock market index) in their Vanguard taxable brokerage account. They will also grow this account over time for multiple uses (college, retirement, cars, etc.).

Simple, but powerful. Got questions?

“Wow, That’s Embarrassing”

A young business owner recently reached out to me. He wanted to chat over coffee. Never turning someone down for a coffee, I immediately agreed. We talked about life, work, family, and business. He revealed some of his goals and dreams, and surprisingly commented, "I'd like to be successful like you one day." He followed that up by talking about how he'd like to "make bank" to drive nice cars, sport luxury watches, and build the house of his dreams. There's a reason I shared his comment and this context.....you'll see in a moment. Toward the end of the conversation, he asked if I'd be willing to mentor him.

As we worked our way out the door and into the parking lot, we shared a few more pleasantries before parting ways. We were standing next to an older Nissan Altima with a massive ugly dent on the driver-side doors. As it caught his eye, he pointed and quipped, "Wow, that's embarrassing."

After we shook hands, he walked to his car, and I got into the heavily dented Altima. Part of me wanted to take a lap past his car to give him another glance at this embarrassing dent, but I refrained. I still don't know if he eventually realized he was insulting me.....maybe one day I'll ask him (or send him a picture of me posing next to my car like a magazine model).

The brutal dent is the result of an accident I experienced about 18 months ago. I was coming home from a negotiation meeting where my Northern Vessel business partners and I were hammering out the details of our ownership structure. A young teen driver was driving right next to me in the left lane, when he decided to change lanes without looking. He was scared and embarrassed, but everything turned out ok.

Immediately after the accident, I was in a tizzy about fixing the damage ASAP. I caught myself feeling this way and wondered why. I quickly realized it was because some part of me cared about what others thought (like the young man who thought my car was embarrassing). However, I quickly came to my senses and remembered I don't actually care about things like that.

Still, I took my car to the shop for an estimate and submitted it to insurance. Instead of having me send my car to the shop and pay for the work, the insurance company just sent me a check and called it "closed."

After I deposited the check, I had a decision to make. I could either a) repair the cosmetic damage and make sure people have a proper perspective of who I am, or b) do something else with the money. I ultimately chose to give the money away. My car looked like crap, but a bunch of kids got fed. I call that a win.

For the last 18 months, I've elected to keep the dent as a reminder of what's most important. Some see embarrassment, but I see beauty.

The Randomness of Impact

Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties, 'cause it's cold out there today. It's cold out there every day. What is this, Miami Beach?...............That's right, woodchuck-chuckers - it's GROUNDHOG DAY!

Groundhog Day is one of my all-time favorite movies. I've probably seen it 50-100 times over the last 30 years. To this day, I can't put my finger on why I love it so much. Maybe it's the fantasy of the concept. Maybe it's the humor. Maybe it's the nostalgia. Maybe it's the colorful characters (Bing!).

Regardless of the reason, it just stuck with me. It's not the best movie in the world. Heck, it's not even Bill Murray's best movie. But it stuck! That's the wild part about putting our ideas and art into the world. The one we think will be a hit can flop, and the ones we don't give much thought to can stick.

If I had a dollar for every podcast episode or blog I felt self-conscious about but absolutely stuck, I'd have a lot of dollars! There are some days when I second-guess hitting "publish." There are some days I prepare myself to feel embarrassed by my work. There are some days I feel like I'm just letting you down. But oddly enough, those days are often the ones that garner the most replies, shares, and conversation.

Self-talk is a thief. It can be the one thing that robs the world of something special. One doubtful moment can steal the impact you were meant to have on someone else.

It's like hockey. Not all shots are going into the net, but the more shots we put up, the better our chance of scoring. That's one thing I've learned about publishing two podcast episodes and seven blog posts per week. Not all of them will score......but some will! The secret is having the courage to keep showing up each day. Shot, after shot, after shot. Some will miss, but some will result in a glorious goal!

Don't lose hope when your shots aren't going into the net. Rather, know it's just the frustrating process of creating impact. Your purpose is far too great to let a couple of missed shots take you out of the game. Keep going…..you got this!

BING!

A Different Kind of Scorecard

Our 300th podcast episode was published yesterday. I typically don't stop to reflect on these sorts of things, but with the encouragement of a few close friends, I'm taking a moment to stop and pause. Now that I think about it, 300 is absolutely absurd. I can't remember the exact statistic, but around 90% of podcasts don't make it past episode 20. With an average episode length of 17 minutes, that's 85 hours of free content floating around cyberspace. While we won't pretend to be one of the top podcasts in the world, it's wild to see how broad the reach has been. We've even received notifications that we hit the top 10 lists in Italy, Belize, and Ukraine over the years. Very odd.

During a recent business trip to Texas, I treated myself to a nice slab of meat at a local steakhouse. As I was sitting at the bar waiting for my meal to arrive, I started chatting with a man next to me who was thumbing through his podcast app. I asked him what his favorite podcasts are. "Joe Rogan, ________ (*name I can't recall), and Meaning Over Money." Wait, Meaning Over Money? That's us!!! We had a good laugh about the coincidence and had a nice chat!

It brings me back to a recent conversation I had with a friend. We were talking about our businesses and some of the projects we're working on. When the subject of our podcast came up, he asked, "At what point do you just decide to give up?" Excuse me, what?!? He pointed out that we don't have sponsors and are seemingly not making any money from the podcast, thus we've pretty much failed. And since we've failed, at what point should we just stop doing it? My response: "What makes you think we're trying to make a bunch of money doing this?" Him: "Well, why else would you do it, then? That's a lot of time to waste for nothing."

Considering our show is called Meaning Over Money, it would be awfully hypocritical for us to define our podcasting success by how much money we make. We didn't start the show to make money. We created the show to make a difference. We began doing this to perhaps bend the culture regarding work and money. Have we succeeded? To the thousands of people who have listened over the years, I hope so! But more importantly, and obviously more challenging to measure, I wonder what impact our listeners are making by living work and money differently in their own lives. When they put meaning over money, how does that influence their friends, family, neighbors, and colleagues? I may never know the answer to that question.

Only you get to decide what success is. It can be money, but it doesn't have to be. Look in the mirror and ask yourself, "Why?" The answer to that question matters. When we're playing a different kind of game, we should be using a different kind of scorecard.

You Are Where You Are

When I’m sitting with someone and begin talking about their finances, one of the first things they reveal is a regret they haven’t done better. This usually comes out as frustration from past mistakes, a track record of unintentionality, a comparison to someone doing better financially, or an acknowledgment that they have some knowledge gaps regarding money. We all carry some combination of this. Money is a deeply personal topic, and most of us have some wounds (or scars).

I always have the same message. We are where we are. None of us are where we wish we were, but we also can’t jump into our Delorian to go back in time for a do-over. While that’s a sad reality, it can also be freeing. If there’s literally nothing we can do about the past, we have the opportunity to put 100% of our focus on the present and future.

I’m waking up in Los Angeles today, on the heels of a talk I gave last night. It’s a gang prevention program for parents and teens, with each night having a different topic. This is the third cohort I’ve worked with in this program, and the focus of my talk is helping families get a better grasp and perspective on their finances. You might be wondering what my ideas and topics have to do with gang prevention, and I wouldn’t blame you. One of the reasons young adults join gangs is the pressure to help their financially struggling family. The objective of my talk is to help families alleviate some of their financial tension (through better stewardship), so their kids don’t feel the financial pressure to go down the gang route.

After my talk, three separate people approached me and voiced their frustration with themselves over past (and current) financial decisions. My response: “You are where you are. Tomorrow is a new day, and I believe you can move the needle in the right direction.” We went on to discuss a few nuances specific to their individual journeys. I wanted them to leave that room with optimism, confidence, and most importantly, grace (to their past selves). They are where they are, but the future is wide open.

Wherever you are, no matter your mistakes, and regardless of what others around you are doing, you got this! Maybe you’re deeply in debt. Maybe you’ve failed to invest in your future. Maybe you’re living in a house/apartment you can barely afford. Maybe you bit off more than you can chew with your choice of vehicle. Maybe you messed up at work and lost your job. You are where you are. There’s no way around that. But today is a special day. Today is the day you have the opportunity to unwind past decisions, reassess where you’re trying to go, and make new decisions. There’s no day like today!

A Glimpse Under the (Cruise) Hood

I've shared bits and pieces about our family's recent cruise vacation. Some of the finer details must have perked people's interest, as at least a half-dozen readers asked if I would be sharing more about the economics of the trip. There's a voyeuristic side in each of us, where we like hearing the details of other people's situations. I think that's why our personal budget reveal episode was/is so popular. 

Well, your wish is my command. I dug through the numbers and will now share the total economics of our recent trip. For context, our family of four took a 6-night cruise on Royal Caribbean out of the Fort Lauderdale port. The ship was called Symphony of the Seas, which I believe is the second-largest ship in the world (and it was amazing!). When the dust settled, we spent approximately $5,100 all-in, broken down as follows:

• Cruise: $1,830 (We took advantage of a 30% off + kids sail free deal on the Royal Caribbean website. We stayed in an interior room, which was small but efficient. This price included all food).

• Flights: $740 (We saved $700 by flying out of Minneapolis - a 3-hour drive - instead of Des Moines. Not ideal, but we agreed it was worth it). 

• Food & Fuel to/from Minneapolis: $140

• Airport Parking: $210 (Given the -45 degree wind chill and the fact we wouldn't have coats with us, we elected to park in the terminal instead of taking the long-term parking shuttle).

• Fort Lauderdale Hotel: $220 (We didn't want to risk having a delayed flight ruin our trip, so we flew in the night before). 

• Ubers: $140 (Ubers to/from airport/port).

• On-Ship WiFi: $300 (This was a hard pill to swallow, but we ultimately decided to get WiFi on three devices. Looking back, we're glad we did).

• Drinks: $380 (This included alcoholic beverages, some fun drinks for the kids, and Sarah's fancy coffees).

• Aquapark Excursion: $50

• Pig Beach Excursion: $700 (A lot of money, but it created some lifelong memories). 

• Automatic Tips: $220 (By default, Royal Caribbean charges you $18/person/day for tips. However, this isn't mandatory. We elected to turn this off for the kids so we could use that extra money to give specific tips)

• Cash Tips: $200 (Primarily for our room attendant and the kids club staff. Our kids spent 7PM-10PM every night in the kids club, and they had a blast. There were a lot of tears saying goodbye that last night). 

There you have it. It wasn't cheap and ultimately cost more than we anticipated, but we don't have many regrets. It was a wonderful trip; we'd do it again in a heartbeat. 

Thoughts? Questions? Insights? Reactions? Would love to hear your feedback. Hit reply to this e-mail or drop a comment below on the webpage. 

I'll wrap it up this way: Meaning over money. That money could have been invested, or saved for something "more responsible," but our family primarily invests in two things: mission and memories.