Chapter Content
Okay, so, you know, I wanted to share something kinda cool I did a little while back, right? It was part of this, like, annual thing I do for my birthday. Each year I try to come up with some exercise that'll, like, make me think and, you know, hopefully grow as a person. I mean, I've done some pretty out-there stuff, like, you know, writing gratitude letters to everyone I know, going on these crazy long silent walks, even trying my hand at, um, a "misogi challenge" – it's a Japanese thing where you do something, like, super difficult to kind of reset yourself for the year.
But this particular year felt, I don't know, different. You see, my son had been born, and suddenly, the whole concept of time, like, *really* hit me. I mean, watching him change every single day, and then also seeing my parents, you know, getting older, it just made me start wrestling with what time actually *means*.
So, I got this idea to, like, tap into the wisdom that time offers, right? By talking to people who'd, well, experienced a whole lot of it. I mean, when I was younger, I used to ask the richest people I knew for advice about, you know, life and stuff. But now, I thought, you know what? I'm gonna ask the *wisest* people.
I was curious how they'd look back on their lives. What did they regret? Where did they go wrong? What brought them joy? What unexpected turns ended up being the best thing that ever happened? What did they think they knew for sure that just wasn't true? Like, what would they tell their thirty-year-old selves if they could?
So, I ended up chatting with all sorts of fascinating people. I had this amazing video call with my ninety-four-year-old grandmother in India. She was, like, a princess before her family was pushed out by the British. And she said something so beautiful: "Never fear sadness, as it tends to sit right next to love." Isn't that, like, so true?
Then I got this email from a ninety-eight-year-old family friend, you know, this Hollywood writer guy. He said, and I loved this, "Never raise your voice, except at a ball game!" And his eighty-eight-year-old wife, who was, like, a soap opera star back in the day, added, "Find dear friends and celebrate them, for the richness of being human is in feeling loved and loving back." So sweet, right?
And then, a text message from the eighty-year-old dad of a friend. He was kind of regretting how his body was deteriorating, and he said, "Treat your body like a house you have to live in for another seventy years." He also added, "If something has a minor issue, repair it. Minor issues become major issues over time. This applies equally to love, friendships, health, and home." So practical!
Oh, man, and then this ninety-two-year-old guy who’d just lost his wife of seventy years. What he said just made me tear up. It was like this poetic ode to their nightly routine. He said, "Tell your partner you love them every night before falling asleep; someday you’ll find the other side of the bed empty and you’ll wish you could tell them." Ugh, just thinking about that gets me, you know?
And the last one, this ninety-four-year-old great-aunt of one of my friends. She gave me this final bit of wisdom: "When in doubt, love. The world can always use more love." Which is, you know, just perfect.
The advice, well, it ranged all over the place. Some of it was playful, like, "Dance at weddings until your feet are sore!" And some of it was just, like, so moving. "Never let a good friendship atrophy." Some of it was stuff you hear all the time, like, "Always remind yourself that your track record for making it through your bad days is perfect." And other stuff was really original, like, "Regret from inaction is always more painful than regret from action." It was, wow, over a thousand years of life experience!
The thing is, I didn’t try to lead the conversation. I just asked the question and let them run with it. And they all seemed to focus on different things, like, you know, building lasting relationships, having fun, taking care of yourself, raising good kids. But there was something really interesting that I noticed, something that was *missing* from all their advice.
Nobody mentioned money.
And, you know, let me just say right now, this isn't about saying money doesn't matter. It *does*. This isn't about, like, giving up all your stuff and becoming a monk. If you want to do that, cool, but, you know, that's not for me.
Money isn't nothing, it just can't be the *only* thing.
Basically, there are a few key points that come up again and again when you look at research on money and happiness. First, money definitely makes you happier when you're at the lower end of the income scale. You know, when you're dealing with basic needs and stress. It can really buy happiness at that point.
But, and here's the thing, if you're already making enough, like, a comfortable living, more money probably *won't* change that.
And even if you're already happy, more money isn't necessarily going to make you *more* happy.
So, you get to this point where, you know, focusing *only* on money isn't going to cut it. Arthur Brooks, who's this professor at Harvard Business School, he calls it a "glitch in our psychological code." He thinks we get hooked on the idea that more money equals more happiness because we experience that early in life. But then we spend the rest of our lives chasing that feeling, you know, "salivating in anticipation of good feelings when the bell of money rings."
It's like being on a treadmill, right? You're always running, but you're not actually getting anywhere.
There was this study where they asked millionaires how happy they were, and then asked them how much *more* money they'd need to be perfectly happy. And they found that, across the board, basically everyone said they'd need, like, two or three times as much!
I even tried this out myself. I asked some financially successful friends of mine the same questions. And it was the same thing! One guy, worth thirty million, said he'd need twice as much to be perfectly happy. Another, worth a hundred million, said five times as much! Except for this one guy, who was like, "I'm good where I am," but then he added, "Although, you know, with twice as much, I could probably fly private more often, which would be nice."
I’ll never forget talking to a friend who sold his company for, like, a hundred million. I asked him if he was happier, and he surprised me. He said that after the deal, he took everyone on a yacht trip to celebrate. But when they got on board, one of his friends pointed to an even *bigger* yacht and said, "Whoa, I wonder who's in that one!" And just like that, his happiness deflated.
Because there's *always* going to be a bigger boat.
So, between what the wise elders *didn't* say, the research on money and happiness, and these stories from people who have made a *lot* of money, I think there's this really important lesson here, right?
A wealthy life might be *enabled* by money, but at the end of the day, it's going to be defined by everything *else*.