Sometimes I am amazed at how fortunate I am. Financially, I have enough to provide for my needs and many of my wants, all while putting more than the minimum towards my student loans and saving for my future. I work at a small company with a relaxed environment and friendly co-workers, doing work that is varied and challenging. I share an apartment with my closest friend. I’m young and healthy. Life is good. And I know the future will change things, bring new problems and new joys, but that doesn’t change the fact that right now, I am so very fortunate, and grateful for that fortune. Life is very “normal” : no changes, no storms to weather – it’s all quiet sea and sunshine. But I suppose these times of peace are the abnormal times in the long run.
But there is a danger, too, to these calm waters. I could too easily stay here forever, should no wind come to move me. Contentment blurs into complacency. I want to see the mountains, the deserts, the waterfalls and tropical islands, both literally and metaphorically. I want stories to tell. Most stories I tell now are not my own, they are those of the people around me; my own life is dull in comparison. I don’t do much except the usual range of my life: small motions, imperceptible changes, recycled content, the rocking of my rowboat. I slide my oars in the water and begin to row, then pull them out again. It’s much to nice of a day for such things. So I lean back, pull my hat over my eyes, and fall asleep.
The thing about times of trouble is: they force decision. Sink or swim. I sometimes worry that I don’t know how. My life has been too easy and airy and never learned how to hold my breath underwater. The storms I’ve weathered so far are nothing but summer showers compared to what I know of the hardships in the lives of many of the people I know. And while decision, motivation, can come from within, I’ve rarely managed to keep it up for long enough to get myself anywhere. I’m more likely to do something, anything, if I have some emotional impetus. The only reason I applied for the job I have now back in September was because my roommate and I were arguing at the time. The paths that lead from where we were to who we become are often twisted and strange, but I know I am more likely to start walking, or to trigger events that lead to change when I am discontent. Contentment blurs into complacency blurs stagnation. Contentment loses its warm glow and begins to be loved for its own sake, you fear leaving it because you have never known anything else, or you maybe did, and, as you found it distasteful, are grateful for the distance from that reality that contentment provides. It provides time to think, but, without conflict, you might find you have nothing to think about.
So, happy as I am, I don’t think I would want to spend the rest of my life exactly as I am, if it meant that I would never grow up anymore than I already have grown up, or never experience anything that I haven’t already experienced.
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Have you read Tim Ferris’ book “The Four Hour Work Week”? It’s basically a book about redesigning your life to get passive income and then roam the world an eternal frat boy. I think in places it’s brilliant, and in other places (such as the crucial bits about making a product to fund these travels) very lightweight.
However I mention it because of the early chapters on what he calls “Dreamlining”. It’s a way of brainstorming down things you’d want to have/do/own, and then setting specific deadlines by which you’d like to achieve them. These then become the motivation for your earning/saving.
It’s not really a book about saving, but that section could be interesting to you. You’re already used to setting deadlines for your money — you may find setting them for your dreams helps give you the focus you lack.
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