Life vs. Money

At opposite ends of the spending spectrum, you have those who spend all of their money today without really any thought toward tomorrow, and you have those who are mortified to spend money today, with every thought toward tomorrow. Both are folly, but both are worth discussing. As usual, I don’t wish to employ the term “balance” because this often doesn’t mean anything, but there is a lot of nuance to dig through. I’ll refer to the former type of people as the Yolos and the latter as the Misers.

Yolos seems to have this knack for ignoring the future. They prefer to live for today, but they fail to realize that most of “living for today” is an illusion. While there is certainly value in living in the present, they erroneously assume that the only way to live in the present is to “seize it”, by which they mean to spend large quantities of money to keep the dopamine flowing. Yolos buy what they want when they want, because “tomorrow isn’t guaranteed”. If and when these people reach the later stages of life, they usually have no money because they spent it all partying or chasing the magic dragon of excitement that comes in an Amazon box or its equivalent. Funny enough, finding yourself broke in older age because of poor decisions in your younger years isn’t so fun. Not having the flexibility that money can bring can actually bring you more misery in the present, if it means missing important opportunities.

Misers, on the other hand, often come from a low-income background. While it is good that they consider the effects of their spending on the future, they fail to realize they may never live long enough to enjoy this. Misers often have a slight superiority complex when it comes to spending, as they are very dedicated to overlooking those silly frivolities among which the Yolos indulge themselves. While such “miserliness” may be the normal state of affairs in some countries, it seems a real shame to be surrounded by nice things, to be perfectly capable of enjoying those things, and to chose not to, out of a desire, nay, a sense of obligation to overlook them. Some people die of old age with millions of dollars in the bank and no plans for how this is to be distributed upon their death. It makes you wonder what in the world they were living for, that their money couldn’t at least be used strategically to accomplish something.

Most people don’t fit perfectly into either one of these categories, but these categories at the very least represent the forces inside of us. Personally, I’ve definitely fallen in the Misers camp in the past, so that is slightly my bias.

But one thing I’ve learned over the past many years is that sometimes the present demands urgency and sometimes the future demands urgency. I’ve spent quite a lot on chiropractors over the years [there are good and bad, but I’ve managed to find the good]. It’s easy to look at those hundreds, possibly low thousands of dollars and think, “Wow! How have I spent so much on this?!” But the truth is, these trips have prevented significant pain in my life. Strangely enough, the advice from one chiropractor actually lead me to find the food sources of the heartburn I’d been experiencing for over a decade, and other trips have allowed my body to heal from weird accidents and missteps hiking that had me limping at work. Sometimes the present really demands attention. If you put taking care of your health off into old age, you may never get it back. So if it costs you a few hundred dollars every year to take care of this, spend the money! (The downside to all this is that some people prey on your desire for health by selling you quackery. Kind of a different subject, but worth briefly noting)

But then on the other hand, if living for today sacrifices your tomorrow, that’s not so helpful either. If you earn good money but live paycheck to paycheck because of your spending habits and preference for luxury, what happens when your dream job appears but you can’t take it because it pays less and you need the money you’re earning now? Suddenly, that YOLO life doesn’t sound so appealing, huh? See, planning for the future gives you options. Options for greater pleasure and satisfaction than simply maximizing dopamine today. I don’t know if I will live another 20 years. But I can more reasonably expect to live another 5. Will my Amazon purchases today still give me happiness or utility 5 years from now?

(Of course, sometimes you may have to live paycheck to paycheck without any room for savings. In this situation, your principle duty is to life itself. If you can’t save, then don’t sweat that. That’s just how it is sometimes)

A friend of mine was recently diagnosed with cancer. It sounds like this type of cancer is not curable, but it is treatable. And I do believe that God still heals, but we really never know who God will or won’t heal. I know this causes no shortage of derision from atheists and agnostics, but I’ve heard countless stories of healings, and God is not some vending machine we plug our prayers into and out pops what we want. But apparently this cancer has a reasonable survival rate 20 years out, but the rate tends to drop beyond that. That sounds horrible to suddenly have this vague, ranged number over your head, but the truth is, several people I know will probably die from other reasons in a shorter period of time. That could even be me! I don’t believe in living in fear of these things, but they are important to heed. It’s not that our short-term problems don’t matter, but we need to keep perspective on how they measure up to the long term problems. Suddenly, after hearing about my friend’s diagnosis, my transmission leak doesn’t mean so much to me as it did before!

The reason why I am at least skeptical of short-term pleasures is that their effects usually don’t last very long. I buy something and forget about it. I buy a tool and then never use it. I buy myself a treat from the gas station, and experience a sugar crash later. I buy sweets over a long period of time and weigh 10 pounds more than I did the prior year. Not so great!

Of course, other short-term pleasures are worth it. Going to lunch with friends almost every Sunday for years: worth it. That one impulse decoration for my front room in the apartment: worth it. Those $120 blue-tooth headphones I was mortified to buy for myself: worth it (and they’re still working 3 years later!).

Some people spend large amounts of money on a few big items. Others spend small amounts of money on lots of little items. Both add up, both can be a pit. But I think there’s a sweet spot at which you aren’t denying yourself meaningful things (or experiences), but you aren’t robbing your future of opportunity, either.

I’m thinking more and more about taking a year off work in the next few years. I don’t know the logistics yet, whether a year or just six months makes sense, or whether some part-time arrangement at my current job would do the trick. But more and more, I do plan to travel and take significant time to personally “reset”, to find technologies or even industries that are more interesting to me and pursue those. To spend more time with family, or to find myself in new and wild places. Or to simply do nothing. To watch the sunrise and sunset more often. To spend mornings at a fancy cafe. Whatever. The funny thing is, though, that the reason I can do this is precisely because I haven’t lived a YOLO life. And if I play my cards right, my investments will still be growing, possibly significantly offsetting my expenses. But this doesn’t mean I give up everything today. It just means I have plans that are far more exciting to me than the more expensive short-term pleasures. Not that I won’t still buy a few sweets from time to time.

This subject is complicated and is the foundation of numerous debates, which I do not claim to have the knowledge to argue. But over the years I’ve had to acknowledge the value of the present more. The value of the present is worth understanding, but it’s not worth worshiping, by any means. I certainly haven’t abandoned my long-term goals, and they seem to really be paying out: five years ago I couldn’t have imagined taking a year off, but now the possibilities are constantly on my mind.