Tag: Happiness

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 financial independence with the ability to retire early (aka 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 full financial independence, 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 (stretch, 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 and paying a lot more 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 plus every federal holiday, 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 and it changed who I am. 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 (my Spanish had been neglected for years prior).
  • 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 our control), which leaves just 40% under our 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 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 shelf life 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. It changed who I am. 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 as a full-time nomad, 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. 

Recently, 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

[This post was republished on the minimalism and simple living blog No Sidebar.]

Frugality Increases Happiness

And as a corollary, frugality does not mean deprivation, suffering, or unhappiness.

Spending more does not equal more happiness just as spending less does not equal less happiness. While frugality is core to how we achieve FIRE, it does not have to mean a life of deprivation. The FIRE community is too creative for that.

Setting the Stage

Recently many FIRE content creators have espoused the view that the FIRE movement has recently “evolved” from deprivation, driven by extreme frugality to, now, increased spending on stuff we “value” somehow causing increased happiness along the way. (“I like expensive cars, so I should buy a new expensive car since I VALUE expensive cars and now I am happier” — at least until the shiny newness wears off.)

Definition of Deprivation: “the fact of not having something that you need, like enough food, money, or a home; the process that causes this

  • neglected children suffering from social deprivation
  • sleep deprivation
  • the deprivation of war (= the suffering caused by not having enough of some things)” – Oxford Learners Dictionary

That deprivation-to-value narrative should not be conflated with an unhappiness to happiness narrative.

As Mr. Money Mustache’s (aka Pete Adeney), Vicki Robin (author of Your Money or Your Life), and many others have long demonstrated that frugality while pursuing FIRE does not have to mean either deprivation or unhappiness.

Pete and Vicki advocated for finding contentment in “enough.” Pete did this while living on less (~$25K a year with a paid-off house). He didn’t (and doesn’t today) live a deprived or unhappy life. Pete and many other FIRE content creators since 2013 have demonstrated replicable, creative ways to spend time with family, stay healthy, commute, eat well, etc. without spending a lot of money. 

Frugality Increases Happiness

I realize this may sound counterintuitive (especially with the marketing world trying to convince us otherwise), but I have found that spending more does not lead to increased sustained happiness, while spending less frequently does lead to increased sustained happiness. How could that be?

There are three main reasons for this surprising truth:

Main Thing #1: I can usually get or do essentially the same things for much less

Frugality is the superpower of FI. It is the core that enables us to create margin that we can use to pay off debt, save, and invest. Even a high-earner making $400K+ has to reign in spending or risk having a low net worth, as well illustrated in Thomas J Stanley’s book The Millionaire Next Door.

Cutting back on spending does not mean that we have to live a life of deprivation. My favorite cutbacks enable me to save money while still enjoying the same or close to the same goods or services. These are the “invisible” cutbacks–those that are not noticeable or barely noticeable with a little research and planning. 

Some examples:

  • Taking great trips using home exchanges (free lodging and lower food costs) and travel reward points (super low-cost airfare)
  • Going camping with our family instead of paying for high-priced hotels and eating out.
  • Arranging free pet-sitters through an online pet sit platform, such as TrustedHousesitters.com, instead of paying for pet care.
  • Making high-quality coffee at home and putting it in a reusable travel mug instead of buying disposable cups of expensive coffee on the go (which is also better for the environment).
  • Getting free books (physical, digital, and audio) and movies (physical and digital) from the library and not buying or renting them.
  • Having my wife cut my hair instead of spending the time and money to go to a barbershop (as a full-time nomad, this is fantastic as I would hate finding a new barber everywhere I go). Note, Pete (aka MMM) has a video on how to cut your own hair.
  • Switching to a low-cost cell phone carrier
  • Hanging out with friends at one of our houses instead of paying high drink and food prices going out.
  • Repair your appliances using YouTube videos and inexpensive parts ordered online AND have a great feeling of accomplishment! 
  • And a plethora more (useless but funny link to Three Amigos “plethora” scene)

But wait! Many of these suggestions require (1) more of my time or (2) adjusting what I get or do, or (3) both, to save some money. How could I be happier by doing that?

As Dan Ariely and Jeff Kreisler illustrate in their book Dollars and Sense, we humans love getting a bargain (perceived or real). However, instead of being duped into buying over-priced merchandise that is “marked down” (dang marketers using this truism against us) we in the FIRE community find ways to buy the things we need for less and reap the enjoyment of a true bargain.

I have found that spending more either (1) leads to a feeling of disappointment if I feel like I spent to much for something OR (2) has provided only a fleeting amount of enjoyment. (See one of the many good articles on hedonic adaptation.)

It makes me happy to get good value for a lot less money. I can live the same typical middle-class life, but spend way less than most middle-class Americans by making some simple adjustments of what I buy or do.

It makes me happy to repair my refrigerator, microwave, dryer, vacuum cleaner, car side mirror, and lots of other things, saving thousands in repair costs–AND I have increased my skills and confidence along the way. 

It makes me happy to save time. If I didn’t repair something myself, I would have to spend time researching a repair company, calling to make an appointment, taking time off to be at home during the appointment, keeping an eye on the repairperson, and paying them a lot for their service (which took me time to earn). I actually save time doing it myself, and I get to do it when I want to, not when the repairperson is available.

KEY POINT: We can do essentially the same stuff AND reap the enjoyment of saving money for our future to buy more time to do what we want!

Main Thing #2: Happiness is primarily derived from family, friends, nature, health, learning, and helping others–not from spending more money.*

*This isn’t just my opinion, check out the extensive research by Dr. Arthur Brooks, Wes Moss, et al. While visiting family and some hobbies may cost some money they can often be done for a lot less (see Main Thing )

I have increased my long-term happiness without spending a lot of money. 

My best memories with my family involve family game nights (homemade pizzas and hours of playing games), camping and hiking together in the woods, home exchanges to great destinations with travel rewards points paying for most of the airfare, and reading great books from the library out loud together. 

My best memories with my friends are from pot-luck parties and hanging out in our backyards around a fire pit enjoying a high quality beverage, or going camping and hiking together. I don’t watch a lot of movies, but when I do, I have a lot more fun watching a video at home free through Kanopy at my public library or renting it online where we can pause and chat about the movie. In contrast I find spending $16 each to go to a movie theater that is so loud I need to wear ear plugs and I can’t chat or take any breaks a lot less fun or interactive.

My wife and I love taking free extended fitness walks along the trails around our quasi-urban house on the edge of DC. We walk along the creek and see deer and birds and lots of other people walking, jogging, and biking. We enjoy the benefits of nature and increase our happiness without spending a penny. As we travel the world, it is a rare location where we can’t find some close-by place for spending time in nature.

Happiness is rarely about the stuff we buy or the amount we spend, but about the time we spend with family, friends, learning, and helping others.

I didn’t need to spend a ton of money going to a restaurant, hotel, or buying books to increase my happiness. I have found that when I spend a lot of money on a meal out or other expensive endeavor, I am often less happy because my expectations were higher and I was underwhelmed.  

While we all have felt a jolt of pleasure from buying something new, we need to recognize and separate happiness from these fleeting moments of enjoyment. 

Main Thing #3: I am happier when I have less – both stuff and commitments

Separating our identity from our stuff enables us to pursue happiness in less-expensive ways. 

As my wife and I sold, gave away, or otherwise disposed of 98% of our personal belongings, I became a different person. Minimalism changed who I am for the better! 

By getting rid of my musical instruments, canning equipment, lawn care equipment, cars, house, tools, old files and collections, I released myself from numerous commitments and freed up enormous time and resources. 

I jettisoned my lower-priority personas of musician, canner, home owner, etc. to focus on what I truly valued and made me happier and content. Now I’m more aware of the alluring promises of new personas through purchases, and I don’t buy that stuff anymore. I travel, spend more time with family and friends, read, exercise, and learn. I am a different, more content person.

My happiness increased when I bought less. 

Conclusion

The FIRE community should not conflate frugality with deprivation or unhappiness. FIRE adherents can live happy and fulfilling lives while also saving a much larger percentage of their income than mainstream Americans. 

As modern-day philosopher Naval Ravikant explains, “Money doesn’t buy happiness – it buys freedom.”

The FIRE community needs to proudly claim the key tenets of what makes this movement different from other personal finance philosophies: we are frugal, and we determine and then stick to how much spending is enough. These are the FIRE tenets that Pete and Vicki have long advocated for and they are as applicable today as they were back then. 

Spending less does not mean less happiness–done the right way, it can mean more.

IMAGE Credit: “frugality” on keyboard obtained from CreditDebitPro.com

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