I just read a fascinating article on the FIRE (Financial Independence, Retire Early) movement, found via The Frugal Girl. The author, Steph of Simplistic Steph, argues that despite the loudly touted benefits of the FIRE lifestyle, not everyone can retire young…and that’s okay.
I used to worship at the altar of busy. I would flit from one thing to the next, arriving late to each function and meeting, guzzling down so much Diet Coke my body would be humming, my heart skipping every other beat.
I was reminded of you by a photo that popped up on my Facebook feed. It was a flashback to our engagement party, 7 years ago. We look like babies—me wearing a too tight dress and you with more head hair than facial hair. Seeing the picture reminded me that sometimes I forget things.
Sometimes when I’m having a bad day, or just feeling wistful, I’ll spend some time thinking about how different my life will look in five years. This exercise helps me a). realize that many of the things currently bothering me won’t matter at all down the line, b). know that even when it’s hard to see progress towards bigger goals, in five years, those accomplishments may be in the rear-view window, and c). helps me pinpoint what I can and should focus my energies on now to get to where I want to be later.
Dave Ramsey has a phrase called “stupid tax,” which I find unnecessarily harsh, but which refers to the price you pay for fines related to forgetfulness or otherwise avoidable charges. It’s safe to safe I had my own “stupid tax” moments last week, ones that left me feeling embarrassed and annoyed.
I passed on a job today—a fairly lucrative, interior design project. It was unbelievably hard to say no. But as soon as I sent the email, I felt a weight lift off of my chest.
I’m going to London this spring. It’s true! This nervous Nelly is getting the heck out of dodge. My friend Katie asked me to go with her to the Hillsong Colour Conference and I said no. Then she asked again and I said maybe, okay, yes I’ll do it but I still don’t like it. And now I’m going.
I have a theory about writing.
We celebrated Margaret’s second birthday today and it brought with it the new year feel of examining and weighing the last twelve months. We’ve lost family members, quit jobs, accepted new ones. We’ve grieved and mourned and grieved some more. We’ve raised two kids from baby to toddler to almost kid, with frequent stops at threenager in between.
There are days when I wish for adventure, for far away places and people I’ve yet to meet, times when I long to be anywhere but here and now: a different person in a different body in a different town. But then there are times I crave the comfort of what’s known to me, when I can embrace who I am in the now.