by Ed Herzog; tiny buddha
As Henry Ward Beecher said, “Each tomorrow offers two grips: one of worry, one of trust.”
The concept of retirement stirs both thrill and dread in many people.
On one side, we feel excited about the doors retirement opens—the chance to travel, explore new hobbies, and finally shape our days as we wish.
On the other side, we fret about having enough money to last until an uncertain expiration date. And not merely to get by, but to flourish in those later years.
That constant anxiety about what lies ahead traps countless individuals in draining professions. They follow the secure route, stockpiling cash for the day they stop working, and trade their one irreplaceable life for a promise of safety later.
I know those retirement worries intimately. I recently turned forty-nine, so my own retirement sits just fifteen years away. Fifteen years may sound lengthy, but I recognize how swiftly they’ll vanish. I have some funds tucked away in retirement accounts plus a modest pension, and I expect to receive Social Security payments as well.
Will that be enough? How long will the money hold out? I truly don’t know.
My retirement could have unfolded very differently. Three separate times I left positions that paid generously and offered rich retirement perks. Friends who stayed in those roles will likely face few financial concerns when they retire.
So yes, I walked away from substantial income and a cushy retirement. But in doing so, I rescued my spirit. Those jobs I abandoned? They were consuming me.
I loathed being trapped in a cubicle. I detested staring at a screen all day. I despised composing pointless memos. I dreaded meetings that discussed issues I didn’t care about.
My father spent over two decades in a job he hated because he saw no alternative. He had to provide for a wife and three kids. I witnessed firsthand how remaining in that role eroded him. And long ago I promised myself I wouldn’t inflict the same fate on myself.
So I did whatever it took to escape those positions. Then I drew from my savings and spent time doing what people typically postpone until retirement:
- I backpacked across the globe, visiting more than thirty countries and residing in several.
- I volunteered with street children in Mexico and cancer patients in the Philippines.
- I learned Spanish, starting from zero to near fluency.
- I stayed at a yoga center in Pennsylvania and a meditation center in Wisconsin.
After that, I launched my own business so I could live on my own terms instead of how others wanted or expected me to.
In my view, no paycheck makes a despised job worthwhile. At least not for me—unless I have absolutely no other choice. Life happens now, not in some distant fantasy.
Honestly, I have zero clue what the future holds or what my retirement will resemble. I might have little money when that time arrives. And the funds I do have could vanish quickly.
But over the years I’ve become adaptable. I’ve learned to go without. I’ve mastered simple living.
Most crucially, I’ve realized that the three core elements of life are connection, community, and contribution. These cannot be bought with money. As long as I have them, everything else is flexible.
So whatever the future brings, I trust myself and my capacity to adjust. I know I’ll find a solution.
And I won’t merely survive—I’ll thrive!
- Maybe I’ll join the Peace Corps.
- Maybe I’ll reside in a Thai monastery and delve deep into Buddhism.
- Maybe I’ll teach English in a rural Peruvian village in exchange for room and board.
- Heck, maybe I’ll drive a school bus until I’m seventy-five, just like my dad did (and absolutely loved!) after he finally left his life-sapping job.
I leave you with this: if you’re stuck in a draining job only for the paycheck, do whatever you can to escape as soon as possible. Your one precious life isn’t worth squandering.
Yes, you need money to survive. We all do. But there are always far, far better options than sacrificing your life for cash.
So if you’re ready to stop obsessing over the future and start living your life now, here are my suggestions:
Accept and trust that you’ll find a way to make things work in the future, even if you’re not sure how.
Chances are, you are more intelligent, resourceful, and adaptable than you realize. And you will find a way not only to survive but also to thrive in the future. That’s what I discovered when I began taking more risks.
For instance, I once believed I couldn’t learn a foreign language. But when I placed myself in the right environment (intensive lessons in Mexico), I quickly proved myself wrong.
I also thought I couldn’t adjust to living abroad. My first two attempts ended after three months due to homesickness. But my third try succeeded, and I’ve now lived in Bogota, Colombia for over five years. I adapted despite my initial doubts.
Start taking a few risks and testing your limits. Just like me, you’ll become more resourceful and adaptable—skills that will serve you in the future and expand your options.
Strike a balance between now and the future.
You need money for the future and retirement. But you also need to live in the present. Aim to balance these competing desires. Do everything you can to live your life now while also preparing for later.
For example, when I dine out with friends, they often order wine, an appetizer, a main course, and dessert, spending $50 per person. I, on the other hand, order only a main course and drink water, spending $10–15. I still enjoy a nice meal and their company (living now) while spending much less (preparing for the future).
Give up the idea that life has to look a particular way.
Many people follow the safe path because they see everyone else doing it. But there’s no reason your life must mirror others’.
By their forties, most of my friends and family had settled down, bought homes, started families, and held the same jobs for years. Meanwhile, when I was in my forties, I quit my job, sold all my belongings, and backpacked through Latin America and Eastern Europe. That’s not what most people do in their forties, but it’s what I wanted.
Similarly, I’m sure my retirement will look very different from my friends’ and family’s. But my life isn’t constrained by what others do, and neither is yours. Live the life you want—the one that resonates with your heart—both now and in the future!
Accept that the future is ultimately unknowable.
None of us knows what lies ahead. No matter how much you plan, your future will likely turn out much differently than you expect. I know mine has—for example, I never expected to live in Bogota, Colombia, nor did I expect to own my own business.
There’s nothing wrong with planning for the future, but in the end you can’t control it. So I suggest you embrace the unknown, go with the flow, and see what unfolds in your life.
Ultimately, you only get one shot at life. You can wait around for the future, wait for retirement to finally start living the life you want. Or you can begin taking steps to do that right now and let the future take care of itself when it arrives. The choice is yours.
