Heh, well, there’s gotta be some balance between “FIRE” and, I dunno, let’s make something up… “WATER: Waste All Today, Eventual Regret”?
A good friend my age was one of the FIRE types who worked at an insurance marketing firm. She hated every minute of her work life, her office, her “finance bro” peers, all of it. If she kept up that level of stress and misery, she wouldn’t have made it psychologically intact to 35, much less retirement. At the time I was working for a nonprofit, and my situation was the exact opposite: I loved my job, my office (a museum), my coworkers (passionate & creative idealists), etc.
We talked about it a lot, about our different lifestyles and dreams and what we each had to forfeit. For me it was money; for her it was happiness. We each learned from the other and eventually met in the middle. For my part, she made me realize how much financial planning I’d really missed out on in my 20s and 30s. She’s a large part of the reason I’m in this thread now and thinking about this stuff. And for her part, thankfully she eventually switched jobs and found a much better/healthier work-life balance. We’re still different, of course, and she will always be better-off financially, especially later in life. But for me, even when I was homeless and sleeping in my car, with drunk kids pissing on my tires and cops shooing me from parking lots to highway rest stops… I was still happier than she ever was at her old job.
Another family friend was a late-career hedge fund manager who lived in the biggest hilltop mansion I’d ever seen, with several pools and a dedicated outbuilding for entertaining guests… but in the years I knew him, I never once saw him smile or laugh, or spend time with friends, or really do anything except watch TV for an hour or two before falling asleep. His weekends were just as miserable as his weekdays, if not more so, since he seemed to work extra hard while his clients were resting. He divorced not long after that, and last I saw him, seemed to be in the midst of some serious soul-searching. (He’s much older than me, so I don’t really know how to respectfully cross that generational & cultural boundary and have a real heart-to-heart with him; I wish I could.)
Yet another was a startup founder back in the 80s who eventually became a multimillionaire. He was so unsatisfied with his life he left his family in the dark of night, fled to a different country, and started a whole new secret life there, leaving his original children behind without any explanation.
I don’t want to live like them. I would choose my poor, messy, flawed current life over “miserable millionaire” anyday. I’m happy now, have been for years, and probably will remain so for quite a while – even if the country blows up and all I own becomes dust. I may very well end up destitute in old age if I don’t make better plans now, but you know… worst case, at least I’ll have these good, messy years to look back on. If that’s the grave I’ll have dug for myself, so be it.
But it may not have to be, if I start now.
Those are rather extreme cases. I fully believe there are healthier balances to be found. My own mother grew up a literal peasant – as in rice farming – but she bootstrapped her way up, learned English, put herself through school while supporting her family and their single mother, and eventually found a corporate gig that paid for my college and then some. She’s comfortably retired now. She’s also the one who advises that balance, to never focus too much on just the money or just the day-to-day. I can only assume the better-adjusted among us Dopers here live by similar philosophies, not straying too far to either extreme. Similarly, my happier age cohort friends have found the individual balances that work for them – enough to get by, put just a little aside, not much more than that. Me, I’ve just been exceptionally bad at finding that sustainable middle ground, which is what I’m working on changing.
Fast-forward to the present day… the vacation fund was her idea (her insistence, really), not mine. I contribute what little I can. If I earn more again, I will contribute more. But neither of us would want to entirely sacrifice that in favor of earlier/more comfortable retirement. Like Telemark, we are experiential travelers, biking/kayaking/backpacking/snowboarding/climbing etc. whenever we can while traveling. Many of those activities will become less accessible later in life as our healths decline. So we prioritize doing what we can now and sacrificing on other fronts, deprioritizing homeownership, camping whenever possible, staying in hostels, eating powdered foods, driving old cars, whatever. And even then, on her wages alone, she’s able to not only put money into the vacation fund, but also save for retirement, and also eat out once in a while. On paper I ought to be able to do the same, and that’s what I’ll be striving for as soon as I find steady employment again. But we’re not, and probably never will be, the types of people stoic and disciplined enough to put off until retirement all of life’s pleasures. Tomorrow’s never a guarantee; we can plan for it and hope for it, but not at the expense of the present day.