Get Rich Slowly: Recent Episodes

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Hello, friends. It has been a l-o-n-g time since I've written online. Well, that's not entirely true. I've been writing a ton at Facebook. In fact, it's as if Facebook has become my personal blog. But that's about to change. Everything is about to change. Let's talk about it.

As you're well aware, 2022 was one hell of a year for me. It was a year of death and destruction. That sounds like hyperbole, I know, but it's not. It felt as if my world were crumbling around me.

After my mom died in October, I made a vow. I was going to do whatever it took to get myself back to the same mental and physical spaces I inhabited a decade ago. That span of time between 2012 and 2016 was Peak J.D., and I wanted more of it. Maybe I couldn't achieve exactly the same state of mind, but surely I could get closer than I've been the past few years.

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Howdy, friends! This summer, I'm traveling to Ecuador to participate in my fifth chautauqua on financial independence. You should consider joining me. These Ecuador chautauquas — which are unrelated to the European chautauquas — are always a fun, educational, and bonding experience.

Clarification: At some point, chautauqua founders Cheryl Reed and JL Collins parted ways. Now JL runs the European chautauquas — which are on hiatus — with Katie and Alan Donegan. Cheryl continues to run the unrelated Ecuador gatherings. Both events are excellent.

As always, I plan to speak about the intersection of money and meaning.

How can you find purpose in your life — with or without money? How much money is enough? What should you do after you've achieved financial independence? These are the sorts of questions I've explored at past chautauqua events. And while I haven't yet prepared my presentation for this year, I expect these are the same questions I'll be exploring in July.

Other speakers this year include:

• Tanja Hester from Our Next Life. Tanja is an outspoken voice in the personal-finance community, working hard to challenge assumptions and to promote financial freedom for all. She's the author of the excellent Work Optional and the award-winning Wallet Activism. (Tanja is also a fellow office-supply nerd. Seriously, our chat history is filled with geeky discussions of favorite pens and notebooks.)
• Piggy and Kitty (a.k.a. Jess and Lauren) from Bitches Get Riches. Long-time readers know that BGR is one of my favorite money blogs. I admire how Jess and Lauren blend biting humor with deep dives into personal-finance topics. Not an easy task. And the Bitches are just as funny in person as they are on the web. (I turn to Piggy and Kitty when I need help with modern pop culture. “What does S-tier mean?” “How do I make a Taylor Swift animated GIF?”)
• Jessica and Corey from The Fioneers. While I've met Jessica and Corey, I've never really had a chance to get to know them. I'm eager to change that in Ecuador. I find their writing considered and thoughtful. I'm particularly fond of their concept of Slow FI, the notion that you can use “the incremental financial freedom [you] gain along the journey to financial independence to live happier and healthier lives, do better work, and build strong relationships”. This meshes well with my own vision of the stages of financial freedom. (Last Halloween, Jessica and Corey published an interview with me: Money doesn't magically fix our problems.)

And, of course, we'll enjoy a presentation from our host, Cheryl Reed. Cheryl founded these money chautauquas with JL Collins in 2013 and she's hosted ten of them in the past. She likes to discuss happiness and joy and how to develop it in your life.

If you're interested in attending this chautauqua, you can find more information at the official website. Note that there are two gatherings in Ecuador this year. If it doesn't work to join me, perhaps you can attend the second event.

Each chautauqua is different, of course, but the four previous retreats I've attended all had similarities:

• Attendees gather at a resort for a week of conversation and camaraderie. These are smallish facilities that allow us to spend time together with few other guests. We eat and drink together. We walk together. We play games together. We talk about money together. We have fun!
• Each day, one (or more) of the presenters gives a talk about a subject dear to her heart. (I talk about money and meaning, for instance.) These are l-o-n-g presentations but they're fun, interactive, and informative.
• Each attendee meets one-on-one with a presenter. What you do with that time is up to you. I've had people bring detailed spreadsheets and questions about retirement. I've had people chat with me about travel. I've had people ask for relationship advice (no joke!). Generally speaking, it's a chance for you to pick a person's brain about some sort of topic related to their area of expertise.
• There are various (optional) off-site trips to visit the local area. In Portugal, we visited a winery. In Ecuador, we've visited thriving markets, chocolate factories, and butterfly preserves.

From what I've seen, however, the real value is in the friendships formed during these weeks. Much of our time is spent sitting together discussing life, the universe, and everything.

I'm still in contact with folks from each of the chautauquas I've attended in the past. Some of these folks have become close friends with whom I have frequent contact. (Our 2016 crew — the Werewolf Hunters — even rented a house in Utah for an in-person reunion. We visit each other whenever we're in each other's cities and have a semi-active group chat.)

I can't promise that you'll form life-long friends during this week, but from what I've seen, the odds are good. And no wonder. You're gathering with a group of like-minded people to talk about some deep, personal subjects. Bonding is bound to occur.

Here are a few favorite photos from past chautauquas…

These chautauquas aren't for everyone, and I know that. But they're perfect events for a certain class of people. If you think that you are one of those people, hop on over to the website to take a look at the details. Maybe I'll see you in Ecuador this summer!

One more quick note: I recently joined my pal Grant Sabatier on the Earn & Invest podcast for a discussion about money burnout. These conversations with Grant and Doc G are always entertaining and enlightening.

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Hello, my friends. I hope this new year is treating you well. It's been excellent for me so far. Soon I need to announce the 2023 Ecuador chautauqua about money and meaning, but before I do I'll give a brief update on what I've been up to.

Deciding to extend my sabbatical from Get Rich Slowly indefinitely has been liberating. The moment I committed to this, it was as if a heavy load were lifted from my back. I'm able to pursue other passions now without regret. I don't feel guilty. I don't feel like I need to give myself “permission”. I just do what I want, and it's awesome.

Isn't this what financial independence is supposed to be?

How I Spend My TimeMy food and fitness choices have remained strong now for six weeks. (Official start date of my re-dedication to health? December 13, Taylor Swift's birthday.) I'm lifting weights three times per week. I'm walking roughly five miles per day. I'm doing yoga. My alcohol consumption is way down. More importantly, I'm making smarter food choices.

I'm losing weight, yes, but for once I'm not obsessing over the quantified results. I'm trying instead to pay attention to the actual habits and routines. I'm focused on the process because ultimately that's what matters most. (That said, I'm pleased to report that my blood pressure has dropped from an average of 144/96 in early December to an average of 126/84 this week. Yay!)

Also:

• The dog and I continue our project to walk every street in Corvallis, mapping the farm stands and little free libraries we find.
• I continue to work in the yard.
• I continue my adventures in cooking.
• I continue to manage my mother's estate.
• I continue to watch plenty of movies, including the Wednesday night second-run films at a local theater. (Tonight's movie? Patrick Swayze in Road House. Not a film I'd pick for myself, but I'm watching whatever this place decides to show.)

Mostly, though, I've been exploring art. Specifically, I'm teaching myself how to cartoon.

A Clear LineI took some photography classes twenty years ago — and I even sold a photo to Audubon magazine, which means I can call myself a pro photographer (ha!) — but I've never created any other forms of art.

I've wanted to learn how to paint and draw for a couple of years now. Since October, I've floundered figuring out where to start. Do I learn watercolor? Teach myself to draw? Explore other mediums? Do I learn from YouTube? Take university classes? Teach myself from books?

Last week, I spoke with a couple of actual artists. One is a friend from high school who makes her living by selling folk art at local markets. The other is a Get Rich Slowly reader named Jacob. Jacob is a civil engineer by day but works with watercolor by night. (His stuff is great!) These two conversations gave me some clarity.

You see, I'm drawn to visual storytelling. As long-time readers know, I'm a life-long comic book aficionado. But I'm also obsessed with film (especially cinematography). To me, comics and film are essentially the same thing. I want to learn to tell visual stories like this.

Talking with Jacob last week helped me figure out where to start my journey with art. Jacob has the knowledge and experience and vocabulary to parse my ramblings and tell me what it is that interests me and how to begin exploring it.

I like illustration. I like the ligne claire style of drawing, most famously seen in Hergé's Tintin comics. (Although Hayao Miyazaki's work isn't strictly ligne claire, I think the films of Studio Ghibli embody a similar style: clean and simple characters drawn against detailed, realistic backgrounds.)

“If I were you,” Jacob told me, “I'd pick one medium and use that to explore illustration.” Light-bulb moment!

Penny ShortSo, that's what I've been doing for the past week. I've picked a medium — ink, but especially brush pens — and I'm starting from scratch learning how to draw. At the moment, I'm watching YouTube videos and reading books. Jacob encouraged me to take in-person classes and workshops, and I think that's a good idea. I'll look at those later in the year.

Because I'm starting from square one, I have many hundreds (and thousands) of hours ahead of practice ahead of me. I have a lot to learn. I'm okay with that. So far, it's been fun.

Yesterday was revelatory.

First, I finally came up with an initial character concept for Penny Short, the ostensible heroine of the comic strip I've been plotting for the past two years. Inspired by Dr. Seuss, of all people, I found a way to draw her.

Also yesterday, I began exploring how to color my characters. So far, I've been using only a black brush pen to make simple drawings. (The Penny Short sample above was drawn with a standard Sharpie, however.) Color hasn't entered the picture. But on a whim late yesterday, I added color to a sketch and voila! added dimensionality.

Basic stuff, sure, but that's where I am on this journey…

I'll admit that much of what I'm doing with the art is scattered. I flit from one project to the next. I'll be watching a film when I notice an interesting frame, pause the movie, and spend the next hour trying to draw what I see. Here's a frustrated Chihiro from Spirited Away that I drew in my art journal using Papermate Flair pens.

Because I've never done this before, most of what I'm doing is primitive. That's fine! I do a lot of copying and imitation. Also fine! It's fun trying to figure this stuff out. I can draw the head of a cartoon dog, for instance, but I struggle to draw the body. So, I've spent a lot of time playing with different body styles.

Or, take eyes for example. I believe eyes can make or break character design. It's so weird to spend two days obsessing over how eyes are drawn, but that's what I did. Different artists approach eyes in different ways. Each method has its advantages and disadvantages. Which style do I use for which characters?

Mostly, it's a lot of repetition: drawing the same characters over and over and over and over again until I have the movements memorized. The kitchen table is piled with papers that contain the same fundamental sketches repeated dozens of times.

Finding FulfillmentAnyhow, all this is to say that I'm having a good time. I'm in a good mental space — the best mental space I've found in almost a decade.

And you know what? This time off has helped me to see that perhaps I don't have to abandon Get Rich Slowly completely. Perhaps all that's required is an attitude shift. Instead of thinking GRS first, I can treat it as secondary (or tertiary!) in my life. When I have something to say here, I can say it. Maybe that means long gaps between publication and that's fine.

We'll see.

In the meantime, I'm going to continue enjoying this period of my life. It's fulfilling. It's just what I've needed.

Postscript: Like I say, I need to officially announce the 2023 Ecuador chautauqua on money and meaning. That's what I sat down to do this morning, but instead I wrote this update on my life.

The basics are this: In late July and early August, I'll be joining some of my favorite folks (Jess and Corey from The Fioneers, Tanja from Our Next Life, Jess and Lauren from Bitches Get Riches) to discuss money and meaning during a retreat in Ibarra, Ecuador. This is my fourth time presenting at one of these events. They're always awesome.

I'll publish an official announcement next week!

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Last night, for the third Wednesday in a row, I ventured to the Whiteside Theater in downtown Corvallis to watch an old movie. Two weeks ago, it was National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Last week, it was It's a Wonderful Life. And yesterday was Star Wars. The place was packed! So fun to watch a favorite film in an old theater with a couple of hundred other fans.

I've also been watching many movies at home lately. I finally have the time. According to Letterboxd, I've seen seventeen films in December. I watched nine in November. I enjoy exploring the nooks and crannies of cinema. (I highly recommend Letterboxd, by the way. I've been using it to log my film watching for two years, and I can no longer imagine not using it.)

My days have been busy, too.

In the mornings, as always, I walk the dog. Lately, though, we've been taking longer walks: 90 minutes, two hours. Part of this is because I've embarked upon a crazy project to map every Little Free Library and farmstand in town [my map]. But a larger part is because I am, at last, prioritizing fitness again.

Some of you may recall that I lost forty pounds during COVID. I was happy with my fitness going into 2021, but then I got sidetracked by selling a house, buying a house, and a very shitty 2022. I fell into my bad habit of stress eating. I didn't do any exercise. I gained fifty pounds — everything I'd lost in 2020 and more. Well, for the past three weeks I've been both exercising and eating right. I'm back at the gym. In January, I'm joining some friends for a 30-day yoga challenge.

To make it easier to make healthy choices with food, I've slowly been re-vamping our kitchen. We've lived in this house for fifteen months now, so we have a better idea of where different kitchen tools should live. Plus, after more than a decade with Kim, I've decided it's time to ditch some of our old kitchen stuff (some of which we've owned since the 1990s!) and upgrade to better tools. I now own three nice knives, and they're a joy to use.

Meanwhile, after eighteen months of talking about art, I've begun to dabble in it. Not much, but some. Earlier this month, I started a daily art journal. I'm playing with pens and drawing styles. I bought a cheap watercolor set and am having fun playing with that. When I'm not watching movies, I'm often watching art instruction on YouTube.

Plus, I'm doing other fun stuff. I'm reading books and comics. I'm spending more time with friends — both on Zoom and in Real Life.

In short, December has been my best month in a long time. I have been leading a values-driven life and it shows. I can feel it. The people around me can feel it to.

But notice what's not on that list. What am I not doing? Writing about money. Since my mother died in early October, I've been on a deliberate three-month sabbatical. It's clear that I needed it. It's also clear that I probably need more time to myself. Like all of 2023.

I mentioned earlier this month that I want to make 2023 the Year of J.D. And it's true. That's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to prioritize doing what I want when I want it. I don't mean this in some hedonistic way. I mean it in a “pursuing that which fulfills me” way. Does that make sense?

My number one priority for the coming year is to focus on fitness. Kim and I are doing this together for the first time since we met at Crossfit, and it feels awesome to be on the same page. It's so much easier to do this as a team. Along with exercise and health eating, I'm also addressing some lingering health issues: blood pressure, sleep apnea, etc.

My number two priority for 2023 is to continue building (and re-building) friendships here in Corvallis. Although I identify as an introvert, it's clear that I'm not. I need social interaction, and I haven't been getting enough of it. I'm working on it.

My third priority for the next twelve months is to dive into art. I've struggled to start for a couple of reasons.

• First, I don't know where to start. I'm a complete novice. I've never done anything artistic in my life. (Well, not entirely true. In junior high, a buddy and I used to draw our own comic books, but that was kid stuff.)
• Second, I don't know what kind of art to pursue. Do I want to draw? Do I want to paint? Something else entirely?

This month, I've stopped thinking about these sorts of questions and instead begun doing whatever I want with pens and paint. The only way to figure out where to go is to try things. Plus, I'm paying attention to what excites me. Comics excite me, obviously, and always have. But I'm also realizing that I love what I'd call “mid-century spot illustration” style: heavy brush strokes, kind of cartoony.

A final priority is to decide which projects to pursue around the house. Kim and I moved here at the end of August 2021. We love Corvallis, and we know this is where we want to live. Our house is perfectly fine, but…it's not perfect. (No house ever is.) After “wasting” $150,000+ making changes to our last house then moving after four years, I'm more cautious here. If we stay, I'm willing to spend money and effort to improve things. But if we don't, I don't want to expend the resources.

So, Kim and I need to make a decision: Do we commit to staying at this place for, say, a decade or so? Or do we agree that it's only a temporary place? If we are going to stay, then I have a couple of projects I want to tackle almost immediately. I want remodel a bathroom — maybe two. And I want to give the back yard a major overhaul. (The “bones” of the yard are solid, but the space is overgrown with ferns and weeds after nearly a decade of neglect.)

So, those are my plans for 2023. Again, notice how Get Rich Slowly is not on this list.

I cannot decide what to do about Get Rich Slowly. What role does it play in my life? Does it play a role in my life?

This is part of a larger question about what role I want the internet (and computers themselves, really) to play in my life. Over the past few years, it's become clear that for me (as with many others, I know) the internet provides just as many problems as it does solutions. And, in fact, I suspect that my recent struggles with mental health have been exacerbated by the internet. Perhaps even caused by the internet.

One option is to simply cut the cord completely and walk away. Sell the site. Give up writing about money forever. Consider it a phase of my life and move on. There are a lot of upsides to this choice, I'll admit. But I'm not convinced it's the best option. What if I end up regretting the decision? What if I do decide I want a place to talk about money again?

Besides, there are two big reasons I want to keep Get Rich Slowly (or, perhaps, Money Boss in its stead). For one, I really do want to create an online encyclopedia of personal finance, a place uncluttered by ads and analytics and bullshit, a place where people can get reliable, unbiased money info. Second, and perhaps more importantly, I'm a writer. I express myself through words. I enjoy having an outlet to share what I'm feeling. Just like this!

So, I equivocate.

I go back and forth.

I think and I think and I think about the best course to take.

But you know what? It's not a decision I have to make right now. Right now, the best thing is to simply do what I've been doing. It seems to be working. December has been all about me and my needs, and that's what 2023 will be too.

In the coming year, I'm going to focus on fitness. I'm going to continue exploring art and watching movies. I'm going to hang out with friends. At long last, I'm going to travel again. (I already have plans to visit Colorado, Mexico, Greece, Ecuador, and more!) I'm going to spend time with Kim and our beasts. I'm going to read. I'm going to cook.

And from time to time — for now, at least — I'll drop by Get Rich Slowly to share what I've been thinking and doing.

Happy holidays, everyone. I'll see you next year.

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Hello, friends. Just a quick note to let you all know that my life, at last, seems to be settling. A full two months after the death of my mother, the fog has lifted and I find that I'm motivated to pursue productive pursuits once more.

I spent much of the past several weeks doing some serious soul-searching. It's clear to me (and to Kim) that above all else, I need to make 2023 the year of me.

2023 — The Year of MeMore than a decade ago, I got into the habit of theming my years and months. It was fun! It was also fruitful. Whenever I decided to devote a span of time to one thing, I had great results, whether it was with fitness or writing or dating. This habit of theming lasted for a couple of years, then fell by the wayside.

Well, I've spent too long putting myself second. Or third. Or ninth. Starting yesterday, my aim is to put myself first for the next year (or more).

This is tough for me. It seems selfish. It seems wrong. But the truth is I've been allowing other things to interfere with my pursuit of physical and mental health for too long. I've been making excuses. No more! For the foreseeable future, J.D. is job one. Let the age of selfishness commence!

The truth is, of course, that by putting myself first I'm almost certain to become a better person for others — including you. I get that this is so (and, in fact, it's advice I often give to others), but I've been unable to act on the knowledge for too long.

Anyhow, I suspect there'll be no real change for you, the readers of Get Rich Slowly. The change will mostly be inside of me. I'm giving myself permission to put my needs and desires ahead of everything else for 2023, but I'm almost certain that'll translate into more fodder for articles around here. And, at long last, completion of the site de-design.

But as part of this Year of Me, I'm deliberately not holding myself to any sort of publishing or production schedule around here. If I have something to say, I'll say it. If not, I won't force anything. The post you're reading is a good example: I just finished another Designing Your Life exercise and have a bit of free time before a call with a friend, so I decided to share a quick update.

Again, this is largely a change inside of me, and I know it. But it's an important change.

The Courage to Be DislikedFor Thanksgiving, Kim and I drove to California to visit her brother's family. To pass the time, we listened to The Courage to Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumtitake Koga. This book (which really ought to be titled The Courage to Be Happy) explores the worldview of psychologist Alfred Adler.

The Courage to Be Disliked is packed with loads of wisdom. (I found myself frustrated that I couldn't highlight passages in an audiobook!) Gems such as these:

• People fabricate anger.
• Learn to live without being controlled by your past.
• Unhappiness is something you choose.
• People generally choose not to change.
• Your life exists in the here and now. (Echoes of Eckhart Tolle, yes?)
• All problems are interpersonal relationship problems.
• Life is not a competition.
• Admitting fault is not defeat.
• Deny the desire for recognition. (Hey! It's like having a lack of ambition!)
• Discard other people's tasks. (In other words, set and maintain healthy boundaries.)
• Freedom is being disliked by other people.
• You are not the center of the world.
• The goal of interpersonal relationships is a sense of community.
• Do not rebuke or praise. (This one was a big revelation for both me and Kim.)
• Exist in the present. (Eckhart Tolle again.)
• Excessive self-consciousness stifles the self.
• Don't pursue self-affirmation; pursue self-acceptance.
• The essence of work is a contribution to the common good.
• Have the courage to be normal.
• Life is a series of moments.

I realize that a lot of those statements probably make zero sense without context. They made zero sense to us too until we listened to the explanations.

I'll be re-reading The Courage to Be Disliked in Kindle format. Well, I'll skim it anyhow, searching for the best bits. The book is written like a Socratic dialogue, which is both good and bad. For the purposes of re-reading, I don't need (or want) to sit through most of the conversation. I'm seeking only the best bits.

It's very possible that I'll publish a full review/summary of the book here at Get Rich Slowly in the future.

A Values-Driven LifeTo wrap things up, here's a quote that came up in my Readwise highlights today. I bookmarked this months ago, but it hit home as especially relevant for where I am in this moment:

“The ability to subordinate an impulse to a value is the essence of a proactive person. Reactive people are driven by feelings, by circumstances, by conditions, by their environment. Proactive people are driven by values — carefully thought about, selected, and internalized values.”

— Stephen R. Covey, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People

One reason I've reached a place where I need a Year of Me is that I've somehow lost the ability to control my impulses while simultaneously forgetting about my core values. Time to flip the script! I'd already begun to take steps to rein in my impulses — I've uninstalled Reddit and Hearthstone from my iPad, for instance — and now it's time to start putting my values into practice again.

That's all I have for you today. I'll be back soon with more, I'm sure, but it might be something short. Or it might be something more conversational…like this. (Really, with what I envision going forward, each of the three sections of this post would have been its own separate article.)

I'm not giving up on longer, focused articles. But for now, for the Year of Me, blog posts like this seem right.

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A memory came to me this morning while I was walking the dog, a memory of those days when I was fresh out of college and just beginning to work for my father at the box factory.

A salesman had come knocking on our door. This was strange since the box factory was (and still is) located in a rural area. But somehow this guy had found us and he was there to make his pitch: He was a salesman who trained salesmen. (And, presumably, saleswomen although this wasn't part of the spiel in 1992.)

Dad, amused, introduced this fellow to me. "This is J.D.," Dad said. "He's our salesman. Talk to him." So, this guy sat down with me in a back room of the shabby trailer house that served as company HQ. (This was the very trailer house I'd grown up in. And trust me when I say it was a pit, a sty. It was just as bad as you're imagining. Maybe worse.)

"How would you like to make more money?" the salesman who trained salesmen said to me. He was an older gentleman dressed in a brown corduroy suit.

"I'd love it," I said. Despite my father's nepotism in hiring me, I wasn't paid much: $16,500 per year and no commissions — about $35,500 in 2022 dollars.

"Let me show you what I can do for you," the salesman said, smiling. That's my over-riding memory of this conversation: the guy's permagrin. It never went away. Even when he was resting, he had that shit-eating grin on his face.

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My mother died Monday night. She was 74.

Earlier this week, I began writing a memorial for her. I know I haven't talked much about Mom here at Get Rich Slowly, but she probably played the biggest role in molding me into the person I am today. After writing 2500 words, I realized I have a lot to process. And maybe Get Rich Slowly isn't the place to publish a tribute to her. I don't know.

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I am 53 years old. Never in my life have I allowed myself to buy a car I truly love...until now. This is the story of how I allowed myself to make a huge purchase just for the joy of it. And it wasn't even a purchase I'd intended to make. Let me explain.

During the peak of the pandemic (early July 2020), I paid $35,990 for a used 2019 Mini Countryman SE All4. The Countryman — which I call a "Maxi Cooper" — isn't a bad car, but I regretted buying it almost immediately. I'd intended to replace my 2004 Mini Cooper with a newer version of the same model, but allowed myself to be talked into a compact SUV.

For two years, I drove the Maxi Cooper and tolerated it. It wasn't a bad car by any means, but it was a bad car for me. I'm not an SUV guy. I'm a small-car guy.

Last month, I took the Maxi Cooper for an oil change. While I was waiting, the dealer offered to buy it back from me. I wasn't expecting that.

As you probably know, the used-car market in the U.S. has been crazy for a couple of years. According to the U.S. Federal Reserve, prices on used vehicles are up 55% since July 2020. Prices for new vehicles have also increased during that time, but by only 18%.

Because I write about money, I'm aware that used-car prices are high, but I hadn't considered that I might sell the car I purchased only two years ago. I'm the sort of person who buys a car and keeps it for a decade or more. But when the Mini dealer told me they'd pay $33,000 for a car I'd bought 26 months earlier, I was intrigued.

I contacted one of my buddies, a former car salesman. "What am I missing here, Jeremy?" I asked. "This seems like a pretty good deal."

"It's not just a good deal," Jeremy said. "It's a miracle. It's as if you leased that car for $115 per month. You should take the offer. Now. Before they change their mind."

Before you read my story, you might want to read this similar story from Liz at Frugalwoods: Why we bought a NEW car. Here's a relevant excerpt:

"In normal economic times – or rather, in past economic times – used cars were remarkably cheaper than new cars, which made the depreciation on new cars astronomical. In other words, new cars would lose a tremendous amount of their value as soon as they were no longer new.

"Used cars, on the other hand, had a much more gradual depreciation curve, which meant you could buy a used car for a reasonable price and then, if needed, re-sell that used car at a reasonable loss. Currently, thanks to supply chain issues, a shortage of computer chips and inflation, used cars are no longer a deal."

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I've changed the way I shop over the past few years. And although the shift has been subtle, I've found that I'm much happier with the things I buy.

In the past, my approach to shopping was simple. If I wanted a new thneed, I would go to a store (or, with the advent of the internet, a website) and choose from the available thneeds. I'd look at the store's selection (or the website's selection) and pick the one best suited for me.

If the thneed I wanted was particularly expensive or important, I might expand my search to multiple stores or multiple websites. But usually, I stuck with the first store I visited.

The key point here is that I allowed the places I shopped to impose limits on the thneeds available to me. I think of this approach as "store-centered shopping". Whatever the store has in stock defines my universe of options.

Now that I'm older, I've flipped the script. Instead of allowing the marketplace to define which thneeds are available to me, I decide exactly what I want before I begin my search. I put myself and my needs first. Once I know what I want, I take the time to locate it. What I want is almost always out there somewhere — if I'm patient enough to track it down.

I think of this approach "self-centered shopping". I'm putting me first, and that's a Good Thing. In fact, that's an Excellent Thing! This method consistently leads to greater satisfaction with the things I buy. Instead of picking up cheap, mass-market thneeds, I'm buying thneeds that feel as if they were specifically made for me.

Let me give you a concrete example.

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It's always fun to unearth some esoteric piece of personal-finance history. I know there are only a few nerds out there who care (hello, Grant Sabatier!), but those of us who care really care.

Two years ago, I published an article exploring the history of financial independence in which I noted that the earliest reference I can find to the notion of financial independence comes from an 1872 book called Money and How to Make It by H. L. Reade. And it wasn't until the 1950s that the concept of early retirement (at least in the sense we mean it today) gained traction. But despite my research, I still have questions, such as: What's the source of the modern FIRE movement?

Who Coined the Term FIRE? Recently at The Retire Early Home Page — a site so old that it existed (and still exists) at the dawn of the web — John P. Greaney answered the question: Who coined the term FIRE?

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It's Sunday morning as I write this, and my weeklong adventure at Fincon 2022 in Orlando has come to an end. I'm exhausted.

As has become customary, I didn't actually attend any workshops or keynotes or breakout sessions here at Fincon. Instead, I spent the entire week connecting with friends:

• I enjoyed chatting with Rob Berger about how he's managed to grow his excellent YouTube channel from 0 to 63,000 subscribers in two years. He now makes more than he used to earn with his blog (and he made plenty with his blog). He does this by putting his audience first and only promoting a handful of products that he actually uses and endorses. Love it.
• Rocky Lalvani from Richer Soul told me about Marisa Peer and the biggest disease affecting humanity. As a guy who has struggled plenty with his mental health, I like Peer's message: "I am enough." (This is now the lockscreen on my phone!)
• Donna Freedman told me all about her frugal adventures in Anchorage, Alaska. Donna is just as funny and resourceful in person as she is in her GRS articles (and those at her own site). I have high hopes that she and I can reach some sort of arrangement to feature her writing here regularly again — but we forgot to discuss this because we were talking about gardening and education and moose.
• I talked with Carl Jensen about podcasting, friends, and home remodeling. He suggested something crazy but cool: What if he and Pete (a.k.a. Mr. Money Mustache) were to fly out to Oregon for a week to help me remodel my bathroom? I like this idea. Carl says he's serious about it, so it's just a matter of getting MMM on board. I suspect I can lure him to Oregon with promises of bikes and beer.
• Yesterday, I had a delightful conversation with Tanja Hester. I've never told her this, but I always feel like she's a female J.D. (or that I'm a male Tanja). Some examples: she's nerdy af, plagued by ADHD, and loves great writing. And we're both competitive pedants (as that sentence illustrates). Tanja and I are both notebook nerds. She showed me hers. I showed her mine. For years, I've been using the Hobonichi Techo planner (because I love the A6 size), but Tanja convinced me to test out the Jibun Techo from Kokuyo next year. Next time, I want us to compare notes on our computer-based writing workflows.

Because I didn't attend any sessions at Fincon, I didn't actually learn much about business. That said, I did learn lots from the conversations I had with friends. For you folks out there who like to read, let me give you a tip that I found eye-opening.

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This week I'm in Orlando for Fincon, the annual gathering of folks who work at the intersection of money and media. As a result, I haven't had time to do all of the things I normally do during a week. I haven't been reading or writing about money. Instead, I've done a lot of chatting with colleagues.

We've been coming together at Fincon since 2011. At first, we were nearly all strangers to each other. Today, many of these people are my closest friends — but they're friends I see in person only once or twice each year. I value every moment I get to spend with them.

On Tuesday, for instance, a group of us booked a private VIP tour through the Disney theme parks. We had a blast. I mean, look at this wretched hive of scum and villainy...

Chatting with other money nerds this week has given me additional clarity about the future direction of Get Rich Slowly — on the web, on YouTube, and in the email newsletter.

You see, most money bloggers (and podcasters and YouTube creators) are in it for the money. That's fine. I have no problem with that. But that's not me.

Yes, I would very much like to earn income from the work that I do, but I'm in the fortunate position that I don't need to earn that income today. I had a windfall from the site thirteen years ago, which allows me to pursue this as a passion project (at least for a time).

Instead, I can focus on making Get Rich Slowly meaningful to me and useful to you. I can ignore the financial side of things while I work to build a resource that helps people master their money — and their lives. While I might not earn anything from the site today (or next week or even next year), I have faith that if I provide value, then eventually I'll discover a way to make money in a way that doesn't compromise my values.

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Last week, I raved about the book Designing Your Life by Bill Burnett and Dave Evans. These two Standford design professors have taken design principles and applied them to helping people figure out what they want to be when they grow up.

After advocating Designing Your Life to several friends, two of them suggested that we work through the book's exercises together. One of those friends is Kim, my long-term girlfriend. The other is Craig, a college classmate. I thought it might be fun to share some of these exercises as we complete them over the next couple of months.

Because I want to respect the intellectual property of the authors, I'm not going to describe the exercises exactly. Instead, I'll provide a vague overview and then discuss my own answers. (And, when it makes sense, I'll also include answers from my friends.)

With that out of the way, let's dive in! Let's see what happens as I begin the process of designing my life.

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This article is difficult to write. It's an admission that I failed. And it's not like I failed once, but failed repeatedly over the course of several years. And it's not that I really failed failed, you know. It's that I failed myself. I failed to live up to my own expectations.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning.

Goody Two-Shoes I grew up Mormon. Among other things, this meant that nobody in my family consumed recreational drugs of any kind. Mormons have a strict prohibition against such indulgences. And, as most folks know, they even take their stricture against "strong drink" to mean that caffeine is forbidden.

So, my parents didn't drink alcohol or coffee. They didn't smoke cigarettes. They didn't do anything that led to altered states. Hell, my father even hated television because he considered it a "plug-in drug". For much of my childhood, we didn't have a TV. When we did have a TV, access was often restricted.

My parents left the Mormon church when I was a freshman in high school. We returned to the local Mennonite congregation in which my father was raised. Mennonites aren't quite so restrictive with mind-altering substance as Mormons are — they love their coffee! — but they're close.

In high school, I was never tempted by alcohol. I had friends who would drink, but it never appealed to me. Plus, it was against the rules.

Also in high school, I had friends who discovered marijuana. While I was ambivalent about booze, I was actively opposed to pot. I believed it was evil. Plus, it was illegal. As a rule follower, there was no way I would touch the stuff. And when I was with friends who did get stoned, I'd read them the riot act. (I once chewed out my best friend Sparky because he had the gall to get stoned while we were waiting in line to buy tickets for a Tears for Fears concert.)

Essentially, I started life as a Goody Two-Shoes. I refused to do anything illegal or immoral, and I condemned others for choosing anything that I wouldn't choose. I was a self-righteous young man who couldn't see that there's no single Right Answer to life.

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I am obsessed with the film Everything Everywhere All at Once. From the moment I saw the trailer, I knew the movie was meant for me. I was right. The film's bizarre blend of action, philosophy, science fiction, taxes, and juvenile humor feels specifically targeted to me and my brain.

For those unfamiliar, here's a quick plot synopsis.

Evelyn and Waymond Wang own a laundromat. Their business is failing, their marriage is fracturing, and so is their relationship with Joy, their daughter. During a meeting with the IRS, Evelyn is visited by a version of her husband from a parallel universe. He says that the multiverse — all of the many parallel universes — is under attack from an evil being named Jobu Tupaki, and Evelyn is the only one who can save it. The rest of the film is about Evelyn overcoming her skepticism and discovering her true power (and Waymond's).

This trailer pretty much nails the mood and theme of the film. If this preview intrigues you, you'll probably like it:

Everything Everywhere All at Once is strange. Very strange. It starts mundane and boring, descends into madness, then ultimately ties everything together in some magical ways. Some people hate it. They can't finish watching it. That's too bad, because if you abandon the film during the boring part or the strange part, you never get to the magical part. The tedium and the madness are all part of the journey.

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This is a guest post from Michael Laurence. Previously at Get Rich Slowly, Michael has shared his thoughts on investment risk and what happens when more money makes you miserable.

You hear the phrase "the game of life" all the time.

There are books on Amazon instructing us on how to win at the "game of life". Hell, Milton Bradley's "The Game of Life" from 1860 — still sold today — was the first popular board game in the United States.

In the Real World, the game of life's rules and criteria for success are vague and never explicitly stated. But we all know what they are. To win, you need:

• money (or, more accurately, conspicuous consumption)
• physical attractiveness
• kids who go to great schools and are athletically successful
• and so on

"The game of life" has become more than a metaphor. Many people — obsessed with their status, career, or where their kids go to school — have internalized this idea and literally view their life not as something to enjoy, but as a competition to be won.

This is a tragedy. Life is not a game.

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Today, the Get Rich Slowly summer of books concludes with an excerpt from Cashing Out: Win the Wealth Game by Walking Away from Julien and Kiersten Saunders. Julien and Kiersten are the power couple behind the rich & Regular blog and YouTube channel.

The following excerpt from Cashing Out (published by Portfolio/Penguin) is used with permission. Copyright © 2022 by Rich & Regular LLC. This passage has been edited to be more readable on the web.

Dr. Sue Johnson is a clinical psychologist who specializes in emotionally focused therapy. She says that when couples fight (regardless of the topic), they're doing a dance. One partner makes a move, and the other one responds accordingly. She insists the dance is always the problem — not you, not me, not us — and not the topic.

By focusing on the dance, we can shift our focus and look at our interaction patterns whenever there's an issue. The rhythm of one person responding to the other person's moves is what ultimately. defines the dance, and our ability to instinctively know when to reach and and grab the other's hand for a spin requires what Dr. Johnson calls emotional attunement.

If the conflict is the dance itself, think of your emotions as the music. Being emotionally attuned means you can both hear the same song, or at the very least can acknowledge that yours isn't the only song playing. In other words, it's not enough to just go through the moves together if one of you is grooving to Barry White and the other is swinging to Barry Manilow.

When you've been in a pattern of avoiding conversations with your partner about money, it's as if you've both been attending a silent disco. Everyone's dancing, but you can't hear any music. If you want to get attuned, it's important to understand what unresolved money arguments sound like, emotionally speaking.

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The Get Rich Slowly summer of books continues! Today's excerpt comes from Jordan Grumet, better known in the FIRE world as Doc G, host of the Earn & Invest Podcast. When he's not talking about money, Jordan is a real-life hospice doc. His new book, Taking Stock, offers lessons from the dying to the living.

The following is from Taking Stock by Jordan Grumet with permission from Ulysses Press. Copyright © 2022 by Jordan Grumet. This passage has been edited to be more readable on the web.

I used to have a patient who was an undertaker. We had many conversations about philosophy and practicality, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that one must gain profound insights from being engaged in such a unique business. As I was often fond of saying: When the undertaker speaks, you should really listen.

Those of us who have made death and dying our business may seem unlikely investment advisers, but because both the undertaker and myself have spent extensive time in close proximity to mortality, we’ve been given unique insight into what’s really worth investing in. What investing tips could someone in my line of business have gleaned from dealing with death and dying? Believe it or not, a few quickly come to mind.

These tips weren't learned by accompanying the wealthy through this difficult journey — although the wealthy have much to teach. These tips weren't siphoned off of the personal books of those who had little interest left in hiding their secret ingredients to success. These are simple, straightforward bits of knowledge gained from walking down this lonely path with those reluctant to be making the journey.

And believe it or not, most of what I learned about investing has nothing to do with money.