Do you remember when you were twenty-nine years old? (That is, assuming you are not at this moment twenty-nine?) What was your view of the world at that time? Were you hopeful? Did you think you had things figured out pretty well? Did you believe that your life’s goals could be achieved before you were thirty?
The old sage of an ancient village was speaking to his young student one day. He said, “When you are twenty, you are a fool, because you think you know everything and can do anything. When you reach thirty, you are a failure, because whatever goals you thought you would have achieved by then, you haven’t. At forty, you are a fraud, because you realize so much of what you thought you knew is just not so. And at fifty, you are a thief, because you don’t care anymore, willing to take what you need even if what you provide isn’t a matter of personal pride.” The youthful acolyte looked sadly up at the master and said, “This is not a happy path to contemplate. Is there not some reward at sixty?” The old man shrugged and said, “Beats me. I don’t know anyone who has lived that long.”
The moral of the story is that there is more to life than our goals and objectives, and when we become consumed with pursuit of our dreams, there is a chance we spend our lives asleep. Now, I am not suggesting that being passionate about something is bad. Far from it. But if the journey’s value is only achieved at the end, then the odds are not good that the experience will be worthwhile. This is a tough concept to explain to someone who is twenty-nine, of course, but that’s exactly what I found myself trying to do one day recently. Garrett, about seven years out of college, had enough experience in his profession to see that the path he was on would not necessarily get him to where he wanted to be. He had goals.
“Where do you want to be?” I asked.
Garrett replied, “I want to be in charge of my own career, to be able to make my own decisions. I have abilities that are not being used in my current role. And I have a feeling of being behind, lagging my peers.”
“Who’s in charge of your career now?” I asked.
“Well, it’s just that I find myself here at Laughlin Company, reporting to a person who is half as competent as I am, having to satisfy her requests and directions. But I am actually running the department” Garrett said, his eyes grazing the concrete as he spoke.
I asked it a different way. “So your supervisor is in control of your career?”
“Well, I guess not”, Garrett admitted. “But I can’t do what I’m capable of reporting to her.”
“So you feel trapped, and worse, you are not achieving what your peers are achieving, right?” I offered. “What about your peers’ accomplishments makes you feel like you’re not keeping up? Are they making a lot more money than you?”
Garrett nodded. “Yes, that’s probably the most of it.”
“Are they any smarter or more talented than you?” I asked.
“No, not really,” Garrett answered. “They just started on their path and stuck with it. I guess I’ve done different things. I was a professional race driver for a few years. I ran a large custom car manufacturing company for a couple of years. I sold high-value collectibles at an auction house. I traveled many places around the world. But now I’m making a fifth of what my friends are.”
“You’ve had a lot of experience in widely varying assignments. So it’s the money” I concluded for him. “Do you think you can’t catch up? And if you do earn what they are, what changes in your life? What would you do with the money, besides the toys, clothes and fancy home?” Garrett looked stumped.
Garrett is stuck in the woeful feeling of being “behind”. It’s a cruel trick on a young mind that comes from the constant messages of consumption and wealth accumulation that are such a large part of our social environment. Unhappily, it can take years to figure out that as long as we focus on arbitrary, material goals, we lose the ability to squeeze from life the true jewels it has to offer. I know another gentleman, well into his sixties, who is still stuck at twenty-nine. He says he has to have $5 million in net worth to feel successful. “What if you only get $4.5 million?” I asked him. He was stumped as well.
One of the wealthiest people I know, who is also one of the most human and down-to-earth, once said to me, “Stan, money is like wind. If it flows over a wing, it can take you places. If it pushes against a windmill, it can create power to do work. If it carries pollen it can spread life.
“But until it is used to create something, to do something of value, it’s just passing wind.”