Enough is plenty
What age teaches us about wanting less, worrying less, and appreciating more
By Jim LaJoie, co-publisher, contributor
Greed is not good
Elon Musk recently became the world’s first trillionaire after his company SpaceX’s IPO on Nasdaq. A trillionaire. That amount for one person’s net worth is staggering, especially in light of the financial struggles of the average American. I could easily write a long diatribe about this. I could, but won’t. Instead, I will tell you why upon hearing this I had a moment of personal reflection.
Maybe it is because I am at an age, with a reasonably comfortable lifestyle, where enough is enough. I have all I need. I don’t possess vast wealth, fancy cars, multiple vacation homes. I don’t have many things that could be coveted. I do have, however, enough for me and my wife to enjoy life. To me, amassing more is not necessary for our happiness. We are content to not be greedy. To me, at this point in life, greed is not good. In my opinion, amassing a trillionaire dollars in net worth and not attempting to use that wealth to help alleviate others’ financial struggles is pure unadulterated greed (I realize I am not giving Musk the benefit of doubt and am hoping he becomes the world’s greatest philanthropist. He hasn’t earned my trust, however).
At this point in my life, I find myself subtracting rather than adding, consolidating rather than hoarding, material possessions. Take my wardrobe, for example (it is weird for me to write that I have a “wardrobe.” I see them more as just “clothes.”). Now that I am not working, I have a simple one-in-one-out rule. In the very rare occasion I may see an article of clothing that catches my fancy - and those moments are becoming increasingly less frequent - before impulsively purchasing I decide if there is a similar item that can be tossed out. If not, I don’t make the purchase. I only replace clothing now, those that no longer fit or are torn. Otherwise, I am good with what I have.
This rule essentially carries over to nearly everything else I own. One-in-one-out. My wife and I have enough, I am sure more than some, and don’t feel the need to add. We have enough.
I am good with what I do have.
Enjoying the small moments
Much like not needing more things, I am also at the point where I don’t need constant adrenaline rushes. Nope, no hang gliding for me, no climbing high mountains, no parachuting from planes, I am happy with the small moments in my life (although, in complete honesty, I never did those things in my younger days, either).
No, I am perfectly happy with the many small, pleasurable moments in my daily life. That early morning quiet when I am the only one awake in the house, drinking a good, strong cup of coffee.
That morning walk, often with my wife. The community is quiet, a new day is dawning, I am alive, have people in my life who care for me, am healthy and very content.
Watching my favorite baseball team comfortably sunk into my favorite spot in the den makes me happy (I only wish my favorite baseball team was good this year).
Catching up with an old friend. Petting our dogs. There are so many more small moments that are very meaningful to me. I won’t bore you with all of them. I have many such small, meaningful moments in my life.
I am good with what I do have.
Not Sweating the small stuff
Age brings you a perspective lacking when young. Events that would cause you great anguish at one time in your life likely seem trivial now. Waiting for a meeting to start because someone is running late? In my younger days I would be agitated for a while over this. Now, I would shrug it off. Raining on a day I had made plans with someone? The younger me would have thought “Why does this have to happen today?” and let it affect my mood, at least temporarily. Now? No big deal, we likely needed the rain anyway.
If age brings any wisdom (and, my wise friend, Tim Wilson, correctly thinks it does not automatically do so: I'm not a wise man), it brings a realization that life can throw some really tough things your way. Truly, difficult, life altering things. So, why make more of the small stuff than is needed? Have the perspective to know what is truly impactful and what should be just shrugged off.
Think about if this were your last moments: would you even remember this particular incident that seemed to cause you some upset? Probably not.
Save the sweating for the big stuff, not the small. Be wise enough to know the difference.