Five Lessons from Three Years of Financial Independence

One evening, circa 2011, I sat over dinner with my future wife in our small and sweaty Houston, TX rented bungalow. I was and still am an occasional cheap bastard, so the air conditioning was almost certainly set to engage on an “as-needed” basis, far from anything resembling comfort. The concept of financial independence wasn’t on the radar.

During downtime at work—I told you I was distracted—I was scouring numerous free WordPress blogs documenting the travels of zealous climbing dirtbags. They were camping and climbing and making whatever money they needed along the way. People were even starting to live and travel in vans, something I associated with sixties and seventies surfer culture. I wanted that life.

At this point in my late twenties, I was maybe barely a year into my career as a geologist in the oil and gas industry. But I could see the writing on the wall—this would not and could not be my career for the next 35-40 years. In fact, at that moment, I couldn’t see myself lasting my target three to five years until I expected to return to school for a career in academia. And there was a new problem: I’d kind of grown obsessed with this new hobby of rock climbing.

Twelve years later, I finally found a very different path to a life of freedom, if such a thing even exists. After three years of financial independence, what follows are some key lessons I’ve learned along the way.

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Financial Independence Lesson #1: Travel is Great, to a Point

One of the key priorities of those seeking retirement, sabbaticals, or even long periods of vacation is to travel. And for good reason. Travel, particularly international travel, has provided some of the most insightful, beautiful, scary, embarrassing, frustrating, and bowel-testing experiences of my life. Nothing compares to the excitement of pulling off the driveway for a road trip; or, even better, the childlike giddiness of sitting in the international terminal of an airport with my miniature head pillow wrapped around my neck, thinking of that cute dinner tray of cardboard-replica cuisine I’m about to get somewhere over the eastern seaboard. 

But travel means the most when the experience is novel. Once travel becomes too regular, in essence life itself, the inevitable grind starts to wear me to the bone.

On the Road

Of the approximately 36 months since I left my job, I’ve spent in excess of 13 months, or nearly 40% of the total time, away from something resembling a home life. In one 12-month period, we traveled approximately 50% of the year. In the process of all this travel we logged roughly 40,000 miles seated on our asses in a car seat. And my QL muscles were talking!

For us, that schedule is too heavy. At my corporate desk under incandescent lights in 2019, I thought it entirely possible that we’d love life on the road so much that we’d perhaps pursue it indefinitely (!). There are limits to life on the road. And we found our limits. YMMV.

In the future, I still hope to spend upwards of several months per year traveling. Without a doubt, the ability to take impromptu mid-week trips and/or stay in a city or town for a month is one of the absolute blessings and privileges of financial independence. That said, I feel burdened by how much of the world, and even my own country, I haven’t seen and will probably never see. Just like that email inbox we will never clear, I’m slowly learning to accept that trying to do and see everything is a fool’s errand.

One of the best parts of having a home base is the ability to focus on meaningful work. Which leads me to my next lesson.

financial independence, St. George, Utah

Financial Independence Lesson #2: Work is Great, to a Point

As I’ve recently discussed, one of the key elements of contentment is a balanced life between work, recreation, and rest or leisure.

When I quit my job in early 2020, I thanked my lucky stars that I had already been working on this website for the preceding year and a half. There was a system in place for a sense of purpose and duty in absence of traditional work. And with pandemic lockdowns and market meltdowns close on my heels, there was plenty of fodder for posts such as those reminding us of the Shocking Headlines of the 2008 Financial Crisis.

Over time, my interest in writing about personal finance has waxed, but mostly waned, considerably. Starting the podcast has breathed new life into this project, but I’d be lying if I tried to tell you that running this website is a dream every day. Readers and listeners assume I have a passion for the nuts and bolts of personal finance. Here’s a secret between me and you: I actually don’t really care about money that much. Don’t tell anyone, but I mostly care about living a good life, and good money management is simply an unavoidable element of that pursuit. But seriously, this is between me and you.

Here’s a secret between me and you: I actually don’t really care about money that much.

Jobs are Still Jobs

One of the key lessons from my first year of financial independence was that all jobs are jobs. And I feel it’s worth reiterating that point this year. It’s been said that, beginning roughly in the 1980s, a narrative formed around the idea that children should be building passions and following our dreams. I can’t find any studies demonstrating parental life advice from this period; but if this narrative is real, it makes sense in the context of a progressing world. As science and technology improve the human condition, we should perhaps expect the definition of work to favorably evolve.

But there’s one problem: if we expect too much from what work should be, believing that any economy can supply the perfect job for each of us, we risk believing that we should have dream careers. We begin to harbor expectations of work feeling easy, natural, or oozing with passion and meaning like a late-fall peach. As such, when we inevitably discover the realities of work, we are destined toward dissatisfaction. Why? Because work is work.

What Really Drove Me to Walk Away From My Job?

I’ve been forced to think about this a lot. I have to wonder why I decided to leave a cush career that paid very handsomely and had considerable room for professional growth in a great city. Am I just another stereotypically spoiled millennial brat who simply suffered from the common ailment of inflated expectations? Did I expect life wouldn’t be hard, or wouldn’t be a grind? I wonder.

Anyway, I can now safely say that the work I’m doing, albeit hard every day, is something I’m mostly excited about most of the time. And folks, if you have something you are kind of excited about—even some of the time—hold on to that for dear life. If you have a job that’s only okay but allows time with the people you love and the hobbies you enjoy, keep it. I’m serious.

Careers—and relationships or anything else meaningful for that matter—don’t flourish without (sometimes considerable) struggle. I’m learning the power of commitment and the beauty of unhurried progress and craftsmanship. It’s slow, it’s occasionally frustrating and demoralizing, and because of all that—it’s worth it.

financial independence, Snow Canyon State Park

Am I just another stereotypically spoiled millennial brat who simply suffered from the common ailment of inflated expectations?

Financial Independence Lesson #3: Time to Reflect is Great, to a Point

The ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle mused on the key pillars of meaningful life, a concept known as eudaimonia. According to Aristotle, the eudaimonic life is an active, inquisitive, contemplative, and involved life.

When you write for a day job, from a house without cable television or children, surrounded by traditional retirees with lots of flags, you magically find sufficient time for satisfying Aristotle’s quest for quiet contemplation. In last year’s seven lessons from two years of financial freedom, I noted that wherever you go, there you are. I once blamed so many of my problems on my pesky job. But without that job, I was forced to blame those same problems on…well…me.

Problems Over Feelings

The satirist David Sedaris, in an interview on writing said, “I don’t like hearing about people’s feelings. But I love hearing about people’s problems. If someone breaks up with someone, I’m right there. All the details. Delighted…When I’m emoting, it feels like someone should be up there with a little violin. It’s everything that’s cheap in the world and wrong in the world.” 

I’ve found that I’m a driven busyness addict who doesn’t know how to relax, struggles with expressing love, and is independent to a fault. I’m also moderately narcissistic, a trait that I apparently share with just about everyone.

For years, kinda-sorta unknowingly, I put my desires—especially climbing—on the front burner of life with the gas on high. In doing so, I was naturally less concerned with the lives of those around me. And you can get away with that kind of selfishness for a while. But buddy, keep digging that hole and the walls will start to cave in on you.

That said, I can make a pretty good spaghetti carbonara, can sear the shit out of a piece of meat, and I rarely miss getting the bin out to the curb on recycling day. So, you need not tune your tiny violins just yet.

An Opportunity for Contemplation is the Greatest Gift and Privilege

The opportunity for contemplation is perhaps my most prized gift of financial independence. It’s easier than ever to live in a self-made bubble, avoiding uncomfortable truths, where our treasured biases are readily confirmed. And I did, for years. I kept myself so busy that there was no time, perhaps by design, for contemplation. But I can’t be, and won’t be, happy by avoiding those uncomfortable realities.

In truth, I actively avoid the H-word (happy) because it’s a fairly trite sentiment and misleading human condition that, in my experience, can’t be sustained. For instance, heroin can make you happy. Contentment, on the other hand, engenders a more profound state of acceptance. I’m coming not to accept my flaws, but to accept that I am flawed

I’ve spent four-and-a-half years building a website and podcast centered around my strengths: money management, organization, and productivity. To find more meaning, I’m going to have to squirm. Stay tuned.

Contemplation is so important. But if we just sit at home and think too much, we create new problems. We need to be involved with others, which brings me to my next lesson.

Photo: Pexels/Tomas Malik

Financial Independence Lesson #4: Community is Just Great

I took for granted the seemingly insignificant social reps at my old job. I wasn’t close friends with many coworkers—and I didn’t give a damn about the Broncos—but I now realize how much I learned and grew from interacting and problem-solving with smart people from a diverse selection of backgrounds and value systems.

The vast majority of my social life today revolves around climbing. Don’t get me wrong, this climber tribe is a New York-style cheesecake slice of life. That said, those relationships have a tendency toward being transactional or ephemeral.

Here are a handful of interesting trends on friendship:

1. Having a strong friendship may improve wellbeing more than having strong family connections. My wife and I love each other, but we need more.

2. Close friendships are difficult to maintain when we move often and move far. I’ve lived in seven cities and six states. I haven’t always packed up my friendships with the coffee table and dining set.

3. Being honest about our problems is a secret to friendship. We are fooling exactly no one by pretending to have life sorted. See contemplation section above.

Some of my favorite moments in recent years were spent talking about the honest and inevitable struggles of life with friends, like the clear and present dangers of single-ply toilet paper. Maybe it’s something about being a little older and a little wiser, but I’m realizing I still lack deeper relationships. This continues to be (by far) my number one “to improve” area on the ledger of life.

Apparently this sentiment is widespread and hardly unique to early retirees: Despite improvements in so many aspects of the human condition, loneliness—especially for young people—has been on the rise for decades across the globe, according to a meta-analysis of 345 studies published in 2021 (with data up to 2019, pre-pandemic). While media terms such as “loneliness epidemic” are almost certainly exaggerated, the trend is worthy of collective soul searching.

Anyway, let’s talk about climbing.

financial independence, Squamish

Financial Independence Lesson #5: Climbing is Great, to a Point

My original goal of financial independence, as silly as it now sounds, was to live the life of a professional climber with the obligations of a teenager off on summer break. I hoped to climb outside as much as possible, focus on high-quality rest, without the pressures of sponsorship or the need to actually be elite at the craft.

After three years of full-time outdoor climbing life, I’ve found I can muster about six weeks of sustained focus on hard climbing before I want to kick a wall (but I’m too tired to do it). My body starts to hurt; my elbows and shoulders are talking. Tying in at the base of a route starts to feel like a job.

I’m prone to wrapping my self-worth in performance, in sport or otherwise. The key for me has been to take my foot off the gas and embrace a fun-first doctrine toward climbing. I still project climbs*, but mostly because I want to; and less often because I feel I need to. The scary part of this statement—and further evidence of our ability to self-manipulate—is that five years ago I would have written the same thing. A need to achieve pushed me toward ever higher grades, regardless of whether that pursuit was healthy.

*My project definition = more than three sessions on a route or boulder.

The anticipation of the thing is greater than the thing. So, why not spend less time anticipating and more time enjoying?

New Climbing Goal Hierarchy

Generally speaking, and not without exception, my goals have shifted to prioritizing time with good people in beautiful places. I try to take full stock of the settings; cloudless blue skies contrasting with stark gray limestone and burnt-orange sandstone; or further afield, milky blue inlets, lush forests, smells of organic decay, and fog. I thoroughly enjoy the social outlet at the crags and boulders, and I love learning about all of your lives.

With this laissez faire attitude, I’ve actually found climbing much more enjoyable and sustainable. And perhaps either paradoxically or unsurprisingly, I’ve continued to slowly (and often imperceptibly) improve. Only rarely do I attempt to push the upper end these days, because I’ve grown familiar with my old friends Self-Loathing and Neuroticism, who appear like groupies once the beta is dialed and I’m still falling.

The key lesson for me: The anticipation of the thing is greater than the thing. So, why not spend less time anticipating and more time enjoying?

financial independence, Zion National Park

Financial Independence and Life Twelve Years Later

In my late twenties, I was strongly conflicted between career and adventure. In my late thirties, I’m still often conflicted between career and adventure. It’s the journey, or something. Right?

The achievement of financial independence has been empowering in so many ways—I can design my schedule, climb as much or whenever I like, pursue the kind and amount of challenge I desire, and Monday morning discussions of Bronco games have declined nearly to zero.

But here’s a reality to consider: the kind of achievement-based, driven individuals that often fill forums and frequent personal finance blogs will likely struggle to close the valve on the achievement hose. I find this especially true for those who achieve financial independence early, say mid-40s or younger. While most of our peers are busy in the peak of their careers, we might find ourselves desynchronized with society. Being desynchronized makes us feel we are on the outside of the herd looking in. I’ve felt that way at times, until I showed up to the crag on a Wednesday and thought, how are there so many people here?

There Are No Rules to Financial Independence

For those that achieve financial independence but stay at a “good enough” job, these points are moot. Friends, family members, and peers are none the wiser. My corporate job didn’t feel “good enough,” but to this day I still wonder if I was suffering from some sort of arrival fallacy or impact bias. Perhaps I saw the finish line of early retirement as the elixir to my ails. My wife happily returned to her job after barely over a year away.

Even if I did suffer from the impact bias, I have no regrets about the work/life balance I’ve built in the last three years. My work gives me meaning and purpose, and it introduces me to wonderful people like all of you. Seriously, you guys are the best.

Thank you so much for being here. I look forward to another year of learning and growing together.

Cheers,

Chad

February 2023


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4 Replies to “Five Lessons from Three Years of Financial Independence”

  1. Your inbox isn’t clear?! Email doesn’t burden me, but like you said- all the places I won’t see often appear in my brain. Good post again, thx

  2. Chad – great post. It highlights the importance of pursuing a well-balance good life even while pursuing financial independence rather than just fixating on a $ target.

  3. Friendship is truly important, and even more vital to focus on when in retirement/moving around!

    I also agree that both travel and work, are great to a point. It’s a sad reality of life that often times we don’t see how valuable time and freedom is until it’s a little too late.

What say you friend?