The Gift of Being Present
Money, Presence, and more
Introduction
Growing up in Nicaragua, I cherished a full decade of happiness within my family. Shortly after that period, the dynamics within shifted, and a multitude of issues began to drive a wedge between my parents, casting a shadow of tension over our household. I still vividly recall those Saturday mornings when we headed to church together, but the car rides became something I dreaded. It was during those rides that discussions about money, our lack of time together, or the latest weekly crisis would inevitably unfold, leaving a lingering bitterness in the air.
Amid these challenges, my parents, though far from perfect, continued to express their love for my brother and me. They attempted to bridge the gaps in their own ways, often resorting to material gifts. Yet, what we truly yearned for was their undivided time and attention, a commodity that seemed increasingly scarce during those tumultuous years.
The memory of this contemplation came rushing back to me just last week when my wife and I decided to dine at our local Mexican restaurant in Littleton. Before our impromptu outing, I had expressed to my wife my desire to make amends for past shortcomings as a husband by presenting her with a thoughtful gift at the beginning of each month. I intended to foster a more positive atmosphere in our household through this gesture.
However, her response took me by surprise. She looked at me and said, "Don't worry about getting me anything; just give me your time." Her words struck a chord within me and led me to reflect on what kind of gifts truly matter. They prompted me to ponder why I had often placed such a significant emphasis on physical and tangible gifts, while sometimes overlooking the profound value of someone's simple presence in my life.
Tangible vs Intangible
I have a soft spot for material gifts. I believe it's a result of my upbringing. My parents were quite the busy pair – my mom worked as a doctor, while my dad was a professor of agricultural engineering at the local university. They were dedicated to upholding a particular lifestyle, one that involved vacations, splurging on the latest tech gadgets, and dining out frequently.
During my childhood, my parents always made sure I had the newest gadgets and an up-to-date wardrobe. I grew up surrounded by new possessions and exciting experiences. It was all enjoyable until their financial stability started to waver. My dad lost his job, but our spending habits remained unchanged for several years. On the surface, everything may have appeared unchanged, but beneath the surface, our family was heading towards a crisis.
My parents talked about changing their lifestyle, cutting down on expenses, and trying to create a budget, but they struggled to stick with these plans. Their desire to continue acquiring new possessions often overshadowed their appreciation for more meaningful gifts, like spending quality time together or simply taking a stroll around our neighborhood. They clung to what they believed brought them happiness instead of exploring alternative avenues to find joy in their lives. Eventually, it all came crashing down, leading to my parents' divorce and leaving my brother and me without the stability and love of a unified family.
Growing up in a household with consumerist tendencies, it's been a challenge to rewire my thinking to appreciate the intangible aspects of life as truly fulfilling. Sitting down for heart-to-heart conversations with friends, watching Luca play joyfully in the dog park, or spending Sunday’s meal prepping seems to offer less of a dopamine rush compared to unboxing a new laptop, indulging in fancy coffee, or acquiring a new car.
Yet, when I envision my future, I aspire to prioritize the former set of experiences over the latter.
Coast FI and Experiments on Work
As I approach the next chapter in my life, I've taken some time to reflect on the past fifteen years I've spent as part of the workforce. I've had various jobs, from selling candy at the mall to working for non-profit organizations. My paycheck has grown over time, but so has my cost of living. Expenses like having a dog, a mortgage, and paying down debt have taken center stage, and I'm well aware that other financial responsibilities will continue to ebb and flow as time goes on.
However, what's been on my mind the most is the quality of life I want to achieve in the long term. Life is fleeting, and I'm not keen on spending the next three decades simply preparing to enjoy it. The idea of working 40 hours every week just to savor a couple of weeks of vacation and holidays each year until I'm 65 doesn't sound like a life well lived to me. Constantly worrying about paychecks, retirement funds, and the number of real estate properties I own doesn't exactly scream peace and contentment either.
What I truly desire are more moments of slowness and genuine enjoyment. I yearn to explore national parks and visit my family more frequently. I want to wholeheartedly embrace my wife's suggestion and stop feeling guilty about not constantly acquiring material possessions. And it seems I may have found a way to make this vision a reality.
About six months ago, I began to take a more intentional approach to my finances. I stumbled upon choosefi.com, a website dedicated to financial independence, complete with a highly informative podcast. While I may not be interested in the extreme versions of the financial independence movement, one concept resonated with me – Coast FI. The essence of Coast FI is that once you have a sufficient amount of money invested in the market, you no longer need to keep contributing. In 30, 40, or 50 years when you retire, that initial amount will have grown enough to support a modest cost of living in the future. While I maintain a healthy degree of skepticism about the perfect viability of this plan, I believe its core principles can be applied to how I spend my time.
Instead of exchanging the majority of my waking hours for a paycheck at the expense of life experiences, I've decided to reduce the number of hours I work to cover only the essentials for daily living and personal enjoyment. This shift may necessitate a decrease in income and potentially require me to seek more flexible work arrangements, but I anticipate a considerable increase in overall satisfaction. I firmly believe that while work is indeed a necessary part of life, it doesn't have to consume as much of our time as we often assume. It's akin to when I fully embraced the Light Phone 2 as my device. I used to believe that I needed to be constantly connected to email, messages, and various digital demands to be truly efficient. However, I eventually realized that I only needed to be connected for a few hours each day (via my laptop), and the rest could wait.
Instead of waiting for a distant retirement in the future, why not start being present in the here and now and work solely to cover life's essential needs? Yes, it will require sacrifice, but it should be worth more than any gift I’ve ever received. (I’ll keep you updated on my experiments once I start with a new job!)
Going back to gifts
From a practical standpoint, this shift towards prioritizing time and personal connections represents a significant departure from our prevailing cultural norms, and it won't happen overnight. The advertising industry and its far-reaching influence have been working diligently throughout most of our lives to convince us that the solution to our problems lies in acquiring new things, and we must actively engage with this narrative.
Rather than outright rejecting material gifts and other indulgences, perhaps we can begin by reframing the upcoming holidays as an opportunity to connect with our loved ones and relish their company. Take a leisurely stroll in the park, dust off an old jigsaw puzzle and engage in conversation, or create a sense of togetherness by cooking a meal as a team. Invest less in material possessions and more in quality time spent with those who matter most. Who knows, this subtle shift might just ignite the realization that their presence is the most precious gift of all.
Thank you Jose. Less is often more isn't it? Presence is so much more than presents.
I have done what you describe and it is absolutely life changing. Thank you for writing this because I thought I was alone. When I switched to this kind of lifestyle I felt like I stumbled on a pile diamonds on the pavement that everyone else seems to have walked past and overlooked. People think I am "extreme" but it really feels like the dozens of people I know working 40h+ jobs they don't like to pay off 4 mortgages on investment properties are way more extreme. It takes some time to truly dissolve the brainwashing of consumerism and "career". One thing that helped me was daily meditation and self reflection. It really helped me to see clearly and independently, and not be a sheep which I think is really important to go down this path when nobody else is.