Tag: Contentment

Why You Should Quit Your Dream Job

I frequently hear on Financial Independence and Retire Early (FIRE) podcasts and read in FIRE blogs that the RE (Retire Early) part of the FIRE acronym should be dropped. They can’t imagine not working, they say, and besides, they enjoy working.

I know what they mean. I had my dream job, and I worked it even after I achieved full FIRE.  I had quit my career of 29 years in retail and hospitality management, and then I found the perfect job that I loved doing—educating military service members on personal finance. Despite my dream job having everything I wanted, I quit it just one year later. 

And, if you’ve reached FIRE, I think you should quit your dream job, too.

What? Quit you say? Then it couldn’t have been your actual dream job, right? Wrong.

This was my dream job! It had it all: an important mission educating military service members on personal finance, a kind and supportive boss, great co-workers, practically unlimited resources, lots of autonomy, great pay and benefits, no supervisor responsibilities, and the ability to telework as much or as little as I wanted.

Logo for the office of my dream job (I linked it to the FINRED website)

It was the perfect job for me! So why did I quit? 

In a nutshell, we have finite lives. As much as I valued this job, it wasn’t the number one thing I wanted to do AND it was physically and mentally keeping me from doing the things that I valued more.

My top five things I wanted to do were: travel, improve my health (walk and hike more in particular), spend more quality time with friends and family, follow my curiosity (to include learning a language), and read more books. It turned out that the sixth thing I wanted to do was help people improve their personal finances—my dream job.

What We Tell Ourselves About How It Is Going To Be

When I applied for the job, I made a bargain with myself that I would only work the required 40 hours a week. I committed to not work any extra hours or sit endlessly at a desk—a way of life that had plagued me throughout my working life.

I promised myself that I would use my free time to do those top five things I wanted to do. Since I had limited time off (4 weeks per year), I planned to jet-set off with my wife on the weekends to visit family and see new places.

To work on my health, I bought a new standing desk, new ergonomic chair, headset, and a variety of other office items to make my home office as comfortable as possible (I had a dedicated room upstairs with two nice windows). After work, I planned to walk every day and do my daily stretching and body-weight exercises. Also I would read more, study my Spanish, and spend more time with family and friends. It was going to be great! 

Since I didn’t need the money (I was fully FIRE), I committed to spending the extra $125K+ a year after taxes on travel and things that would make life easier, such as housekeeping, lawn care, and eating out, so I could maximize my time off.

So how did I do that year in my dream job, achieving the things that I wanted most in life? The reality was a lot different than what I planned.

Even My Dream Job Didn’t Fit Neatly into Working Hours 

I often worked extra hours despite my promise not to. At first, my justification to myself was that I needed to get up to speed on the new job. But after a couple of months, that justification morphed into a desire to accomplish a lot (and I did!). 

I’ve known for some that when I make a commitment to others, I place that higher than commitments I make to myself. This year of work after I reached FIRE reaffirmed that understanding. Work severely limited my ability to engage in my higher priorities. I didn’t need more money – I needed time. 

Traveling to Asia and having the time to visit the minor temple sights in Cambodia wouldn’t happen if I was working full time

Lots of Travel, But Little Decompression

I took many weekend trips that year. We often left on Friday nights and returned Sunday evenings (or Monday evening if it was a holiday). The fun weekend destinations included New Orleans (once with my wife and once for an NFL game with a friend), Phoenix (to see relatives), Miami (Formula One Grand Prix with a friend), Puerto Rico (for my birthday), rural Virginia (for CampFI Mid-Atlantic), Charleston (for our anniversary), and Thomas, West Virginia (for great bluegrass music).

I also took longer trips: 4 days in Minneapolis for a family reunion, 8 days in Newfoundland with my son, 10 days hiking Hadrian’s Wall in England, and about 10 days hosting our two adult kids over Christmas, though I worked several of those days.

While all of this travel may sound great, I found it to be tiring. There was no downtime between work and travel. On those weekends when I wasn’t traveling, I was researching and booking my airline, hotel, transportation, and excursions. Travel planning takes time.

Because I only had a couple days at each location, I found myself scurrying around when I got there, trying to maximize the visit (the way most Americans go on vacation). I was also traveling when everyone else did (weekends and holidays) and fighting crowds as a result.

My time off was limited by my work, and although I had a generous 4 weeks of paid time off each year, it wasn’t nearly enough. My higher priority to travel and follow my curiosity was being hampered by my dream job.

Did My Health Improve?

No. My sleep was hit or miss as it was often interrupted when I had an important upcoming meeting or project due—I couldn’t turn my mind off easily. Having a job that I cared a lot about was difficult to turn off when I closed my laptop.

Even with the new high-end standing desk, I sat for most of the day. I did get out for a walk most evenings before dinner, but I had difficulty fitting in my stretching and body-weight exercises as work started early. I was no longer biking with my friends on the weekends—it just didn’t fit.  

Hiked 10,000 foot peak in Vietnam. Not working enables lots of hiking, walking and biking in my days.

Did I Find More Quality Time With My Family and Friends?

No. While I did make some trips to visit family, they were limited by my time off (which was split between seeing new places and seeing family) and similar to my sightseeing, it was harried and less quality. I was seeing my family and friends about the same as I did before I reached FIRE—not enough. 

What About My Priorities of More Reading and Learning a Language?

Because I was so engrossed in the important work of my job, I was mentally exhausted at the end of most days. My best creativity and concentration were focused on better reaching military service members with quality personal financial information. After work I didn’t have the mental energy to read the books I wanted to, or focus on improving my Spanish—I found I needed to spend much of my free time mentally decompressing from work.

Relaxing and reading on my porch in Luang Prabang, Laos.

Since Quitting My Dream Job

After quitting my dream job, my wife and I fully embraced minimalism. We sold or gave away 98% of our belongings, turned our house into a long-term rental, and became full-time nomadic travelers with a backpack and a carry-on each. That change has been deeply valuable to us, and it took time–time I simply didn’t have when I was working my dream job. 

But here is where I really saw the effects of quitting. This comparison chart shows my time (counted in quality days) spent with friends, family and traveling during my year of working my dream job vs. my first year after quitting my dream job.

FriendsFamilyTravelTotal
Year During Dream Job13452381
Year After Dream Job43130178351
Quality Days Spent on Three of my Top Five Priorities.
Note: some days overlapped with family or friends on vacation, so I chose what the primary purpose was for each day listed to avoid double counting. It doesn’t add up to 365 because there were about 14 quiet days that didn’t neatly fall into any category, so I left them out of this tally.

By letting go of my sixth priority (my dream job) I have been able to fully achieve my top five.

  • I traveled more than in my previous 13 years combined.
  • I read more books than any year, to include college.
  • I spent more time on my health than I had in decades.
  • I spent 3.5 months practicing my Spanish to include in-person classes and daily app learning.
  • I spent 3x more quality time with family and many friends.

I have found contentment in my daily life and I couldn’t be happier. 

Is It Time to Quit Your Dream Job?

Even if you have  your dream job, that isn’t necessarily reason enough to keep working after achieving FIRE. I recommend that after some soul searching you ask yourself: “Is this job truly my top priority in my life and with my time?” If it isn’t, then ask yourself “Does this job hamper my higher priorities in any way?”  

If your answer is yes, and your dream job prevents you from fully doing any of your higher priorities, it is time to quit. 

The Pursuit of Contentment

“I want to be happy” was how I replied when asked as a youth what I wanted to be in life. Likely inspired by our country’s Declaration of Independence, I bought into the enticing desire of achieving full happiness. It doesn’t work that way.

In the pursuit of a life of bliss, I read several books and listened to numerous podcasts on happiness. I was struck by the happiness science finding that 50% of a person’s happiness is based on genes, 10% individual circumstance (environment mostly out of your control), which leaves just 40% under your control. More than half of a person’s happiness (or lack thereof) is out of one’s control. 

This finding is eye-opening on why happiness is so elusive for so many people. If I was born with a 5% genetic predilection to happiness, and I somehow maxed out my environmental circumstances AND all happiness related measures under my personal control, I could achieve a maximum of a 55% state of happiness. 

That is a failing grade, and I doubt I could consistently maintain a 100% achievement of the areas in my personal control, especially when my genetic disposition was fighting against me. 

I’m More of a Piglet Than a Pooh Bear.  

I have found that my normal state is not one of default happiness. Do I think I am an Eeyore with a 5% genetic happiness disposition? No. But I also don’t think I’m a Pooh Bear with a 45%+ genetic good humor and gentle kindness. 

Unlike Pooh, happiness doesn’t come naturally to me. I am more like a Piglet. I naturally worry. I look for security and close friendships.  Sure, I’ll be brave at times with my friends, but my default is not the blissful happiness of Pooh. 

Happiness carries too much weight. 

Happy moment sitting on a dune in the Sahara

I have learned that I don’t need to achieve the joy of happiness in all the day-to-day things I do or own. My wardrobe, meal, or wherever I’m staying the night isn’t responsible for my happiness, it just needs to fulfill its job. A car doesn’t need to spark joy, just get me where I need to go safely.

Happiness has a short lifespan and it is fundamentally based on comparison (with others and with personal expectations). 

I think about the sheer joy my 14 year-old daughter expressed on her first business class flight experience. Through a series of crazy events, she unexpectedly was upgraded to business class flying home from Barcelona. She didn’t know until she was on the plane. She reveled over each item in the bag of sundries provided and in her ability to order all the pineapple juice she wanted. She was so grateful for the experience. 

But conversely, I have seen people who travel business class frequently who complain about some aspect of the service and take the experience for granted. They have lost that first-time joy because business class has become routine.

The latter is an example of hedonic adaptation where humans will reset expectations as new experiences become expected. As we quickly adapt to life’s changes (e.g., new exciting car quickly becomes our regular car), we are continually chasing the next level item (oooh, look at that better and more expensive car!!!).

As a corollary, getting rid of unhappiness does not necessarily bring happiness. Happiness researchers share that negative emotions such as sadness and fear are necessary for survival, and that suffering is part of the human condition. Achieving 100% happiness would require humans to ignore these other important emotions and states of being. It is just not humanly possible to be fully happy all of the time, and yet we humans continue our endless pursuit of this holy grail.

The more I pursued happiness, the more elusive it became — always just around the corner, but never with me for long.

Instead, I pursue contentment.

Pursuing contentment addresses the hedonic adaptation treadmill problem that the pursuit of happiness tends to create. I have determined what is enough in my life–enough money, enough stuff, enough commitments.

Minimalism was a big help in this. In embracing minimalism, I lessened the emotions and value I placed on items I owned. The things I own, such as a car, watch, clothes, boat, home, etc., are no longer symbols of myself, any of my achievements, or my love of other people. I don’t need to dress nice for other people. I don’t need new things to impress others.

I also fluctuate my life’s experiences to help me maintain an appreciation for the lucky life that I live. In the past year, I have slept on an inflatable camping mattress, two bunk beds, a rock-hard bed that made my hips ache, and several gigantic and comfortable king beds, and many beds in between (62 in all).

The variation keeps my perspective in check. If the bed does its job, then I am content with that. I don’t need an incredible bed every night to appreciate my daily life. The same applies to my food, clothes, transportation, and excursions.  

Instead of asking myself “Am I happy?” I ask myself “Do I have what I need?”  The bar for responses to the latter question is much lower, and I achieve contentment at a far higher rate than happiness. Attaining 100% contentment feels achievable in a way attaining 100% happiness never has.

Of course, I still feel many moments of happiness as I sit on a dune in the Sahara desert in Morocco or hike along a Roman road to the Bachkovo Monastery in Bulgaria, but these highs are no longer my measure for daily success.  I instead measure my daily success by my level of contentment – having enough to meet my needs and pausing to notice that. 

Yesterday, I had a nice take-out meal from Seven Eleven in Japan and I enjoyed it in a park with my wife. Nothing fancy. We had lots of ants join us. There were lots of weeds around. My seat on the concrete step was hard. The sky was beautiful. The mountains in the distance were nice. The buildings around us were interesting. 

Was I happy? Maybe. Was I  content? Fully.

Content moment having a picnic in a park