Money Monday Blog

“It doesn’t make sense to continue wanting something if you’re not willing to do what it takes to get it. If you don’t want to live the lifestyle, then release yourself from the desire. To crave the result but not the process, is to guarantee disappointment.”

-James Clear

“Everyone is jealous of what you’ve got. No one is jealous of how you got it.”

-Jimmy Carr

In our ultra-visual age… supercharged by Instagram halos and Zillow dreams… it’s easier than ever to fall in love with the appearance of success while glossing over what it actually took to get there.

We scroll through perfect homes, sleek lifestyles, and glamorous moments… but what’s hidden is the sweat, the discipline, the setbacks, and the slog.

This sculpted visibility fosters envy of outcomes, not admiration for process.

James Clear nails it: if we yearn for something but shy away from the sacrifice it demands, disappointment isn’t just possible… it’s guaranteed. Results divorced from effort are mirages.

And Jimmy Carr’s quote cuts even deeper: so many see the trophy, but few appreciate the training ground, late nights, and trial-and-error that forged it. We envy the “have” without respecting the “hustle.”

So maybe the better question isn’t what do I want? but what am I willing to endure?

If we crave someone’s highlight reel without their behind-the-scenes reality, we set ourselves up for a cycle of wanting without ever arriving.

Instead of passively scrolling and coveting, pause and ask:

• What would I need to give up… or commit to… to get that?

• Am I ready to endure the grind, the discipline, and the failure?

• Or should I let the desire go and redefine success on terms I’m actually willing to embrace?

Process over polish. In a feed of façades, choose depth over dazzle. Because envy without effort is futile. But effort and purpose combined… that’s where the results happen and also where you can look back and be proud of what you accomplished.

“If your life was a movie and people were watching up till this point, what would the audience be screaming at the screen, telling you to do with your life?”

I heard this question on the Modern Wisdom Podcast with Chris Williamson, and it really made me think.

It’s easy to see the obvious move for someone else… we all know the friend who should leave the job, ask the girl out, make the call, or take the big leap.

But when it’s our own life, the next step rarely feels that clear. We don’t get to watch our own movie with the same objectivity we’d have if it was someone else’s plot line.

The truth is, it usually is clear… we’re just hesitating… stuck in our own head. Fear of failure, comfort in the status quo, or the illusion that we need more information keeps us frozen.

Meanwhile, the “audience” in our lives… our family, our friends, even our future selves… are on the edge of their seats, shouting, “Do it already!”

Action is almost always the antidote to doubt. Start small if you have to… write the first sentence, make the first call, send the first email.

Progress rarely comes in cinematic leaps… it comes in scenes, built one after another. It’s easy to think we have to have it all figured out before rather than just deciding to take that first step.

Almost every great story started with a step into the unknown… and that’s what makes the movie of our life an adventure.

So, what would your audience be shouting at you right now? And more importantly… are you ready to listen?

One of my business coaches and mentors recently told me that as we juggle the responsibilities of life, some of the balls we’re juggling are glass balls, and some are rubber.

That image stuck with me.

Glass balls represent things like our relationships with our kids or our spouse, our reputation, our morality. Drop them, and they don’t bounce back. They shatter, and no matter how carefully you try to put them back together, they’re never quite the same.

Rubber balls, on the other hand, are the tasks, projects, and deadlines that feel urgent but aren’t truly defining. If we drop them, they bounce. They’ll be there for us tomorrow, next week, or maybe they never needed our attention in the first place.

The stress most of us feel comes from confusing which ball is which. We overprotect the rubber ones and risk the glass.

I’ve been reflecting on this a lot lately. The things that truly matter, character, family, health, faith, integrity, are the ones we must hold with steady hands. The rest? We can give ourselves permission to drop them.

Maybe the real art of living well is not in juggling everything perfectly, but in knowing which balls can hit the ground and which can’t.

I watched a TED Talk by Jordan Daniels the other day and it got me thinking. On the screen was a grid of dots, each dot representing the remaining months in an 18-year-old’s life if they live to 90. At first, it looked like a lot of time. But then Jordan began shading in the hours we spend sleeping, the years in school, the decades we spend working, even the time that disappears into eating, commuting, and chores. What was once a wall of possibility quickly became a sobering picture of how little free time is actually left.

One part of his talk focused on screen time. The average 18 year-year old is projected to spend 312 months, or said another way, 93% of their remaining free time on a screen. This point was meant to provide a reality check rather than guilt. It's a call to action. We don’t control how many dots we get, but we do control how to spend the ones we have left, especially the ones today.

So here’s the question worth reflecting on: Will your dots go toward time with family? Adventures you’ll tell stories about years from now? Building something that lasts? Or will they be lost in distraction, in autopilot, in “someday”?

Screen time is real, but it’s also a metaphor for distraction. When we lose sight of making each day count, we lose perspective on how precious each dot of time really is.

Every dot counts the same on the calendar, but not all of them carry the same weight in our story.

So, how will you spend the time you have left?

"The sad part about parenthood is that you’re raising the one thing you can’t live without to be able to live without you.”

I read that quote online last week and couldn't find its original author. It resonates in new ways as our kids get older (our kids are 15 and 11).

When they’re little, you’re their whole world. They need you for everything, from tying shoes to navigating nightmares. But the quiet truth is that every bedtime story, every carpool run, every life lesson is slowly preparing them to not need you anymore.

And here’s the tension: success in parenthood is measured by our own obsolescence.

When your son or daughter walks confidently into the world, whether it’s the first day of kindergarten or the moment they leave for college, that independence is evidence of a job well done. But it also leaves a hollowness in your chest. The very thing you poured yourself into for years is meant to walk away.

Bittersweet is the only word that fits, we aren’t personally there yet with our kids, but I can’t imagine it feels any other way.

This is the paradox of love: we give everything knowing we’ll eventually have to let go. And when they do leave, that ache in our hearts is matched only by the pride in seeing them stand tall.

For me, it’s a reminder that parenthood is less about holding on tightly and more about teaching how to let go gracefully. We are not just raising children, we are raising adults who can thrive without us.

It's humbling to know that in business and parenting, our ultimate legacy is our ability to prepare the next generation to do it better than we could.

We recently had our LiveWell 10x Summit with 130 people in town, it was an incredible few days. We had a variety of speakers, and one of the highlights came when Brad Weeks, LiveWell Partner & Private Wealth Advisor, presented a book review on Die With Zero. The presentation was outstanding.

Afterward, Angie (one of our teammates and one of the world’s best humans) came up to him and said something that stuck with me…

“I think the book is really about dying with zero regrets rather than zero dollars.”

That simple reframing changes the way I view the book, and it actually makes it even better.

As financial advisors, it’s easy to read Die With Zero and focus mechanically on how to spend your money down, how to time your withdrawals, how to sequence experiences, how to make sure your balance sheet matches your lifespan. That’s important. But Angie’s insight points to something even more powerful: living every day in a way that minimizes regret.

Jeff Bezos once said he built Amazon around a “regret minimization framework.” He asked himself, "When I’m 80 years old, will I regret not having tried this?" That’s the kind of question that shapes not just companies, but lives.

In his book, Bill Perkins challenges us to stop hoarding money for a future we might never fully live into. Instead, he pushes us to invest our resources, like money, time, and energy, into experiences, relationships, and impact while we’re able. But if you take Angie’s lens, the call goes deeper: don’t just allocate dollars, allocate your days. Don’t just manage wealth, manage meaning.

Here’s what that might look like in practice:

• Saying yes to a trip with your kids, even when work feels overwhelming (because it always will).

• Reconciling with someone before the silence hardens permanently.

• Choosing experiences over things.

• Building a financial plan not just for security, but for significance.

Money runs out, but so does time. And when the clock hits zero, the balance sheet won’t matter nearly as much as saying I don’t have many (or hopefully any) regrets.

Maybe that’s the ultimate financial plan, dying with zero regrets.

I’m 47, and with my parents approaching 80, age starts to feel more tangible. It’s easy to slip into thinking age defines how we act, but what if we don’t let it?

When I first heard “Don’t Let the Old Man In,” I initially liked the song before knowing the full context. Then I discovered the story behind it: Toby Keith and Clint Eastwood crossed paths at a charity golf tournament in 2018. Eastwood, then 88 years old, was filming The Mule. Toby, in his late 50s, marveled at Eastwood’s drive and energy, and asked the secret to his vitality. Eastwood’s reply was simple and profound: “I don’t let the old man in.” He went on to say that every morning an old man is knocking at the front door and he has a choice of whether to let him in or not. That thought lit Toby’s creative spark, and he wrote the song on the spot.

The song went on to be featured in The Mule, reflecting themes of aging, legacy, and purpose. It’s a ballad about resisting complacency: “Don’t let the old man in” becomes a metaphor, urging us to stay engaged, curious, and alive, even as time marches on.

That phrase, "Don’t let the old man in", isn’t just for the silver-haired. It’s a mindset, a daily choice to be energizing rather than defeated, open rather than closed.

Why this matters for us today:

• Age is just a number: We can choose how we show up, vibrant and optimistic or resigned and passive.

• Productivity isn’t age-bound: At 88, Eastwood was about to start a movie; that speaks volumes about purpose.

• The key to life is often having the wisdom to know what we let in and what we don’t: Just because the old man’s at the front door doesn’t mean we have to let him in.

Last year, Toby Keith lost his battle with cancer at 62. A reminder that everyday is a gift and everyday we have a choice on what we do with that gift.

Here’s a link to Toby Keith’s official music video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yc5AWImplfE

I heard a concept the other day from one of my coaches that stuck with me, he called it Life 3.0 (A concept he learned from Doug Fagerstrom).

Now, there’s a book out there with that title about artificial intelligence. This isn’t that. And I’ll be the first to admit, I’m not smart enough to write about AI anyway. But this idea of Life 3.0 made me stop and think.

The way he described it:

• Life 1.0 is our school years, our training years.

• Life 2.0 is our working years, careers, building families, striving, and providing.

• Life 3.0 is what we might traditionally call retirement, but I think it’s much more than that.

Life 3.0 is the season of reinvention. A time when the pressure of providing may fade, but the deeper questions come rushing in:

• What kind of relationship will you have with your spouse when you’re together more than ever before?

• How will you invest in adult children and maybe grandchildren?

• What rhythm and routine will shape your days?

• Will you nurture your health, volunteer, mentor, create, or even launch a second act?

I spend a lot of time with people in Life 3.0. And here’s what I’ve noticed: most have prepared financially, often over-prepared, but few have prepared for the life part of Life 3.0.

The transition can be bumpy. I’ve seen many men especially struggle, because their identity was tied so tightly to work. Women, in my experience, often move through it more gracefully, perhaps because their identity was never fully anchored in career alone. But when someone’s whole sense of purpose is wrapped in a job title, leaving it behind can feel like falling off a cliff.

The people who thrive in Life 3.0 almost always share something in common: they were already thriving in Life 2.0. They didn’t wait until retirement to figure out who they were or what mattered most. They invested in relationships, causes, and curiosity long before they stopped working. They retired to something, not just from something.

That’s the key. Because Life 3.0 isn’t the end of the story, it might be the richest chapter yet. Society seems to think people in their 60s, 70s, and 80s are “over the hill,” but I think that’s wrong. It’s often the season where wisdom, purpose, and perspective are at their peak. And if that energy is poured into mentoring, giving back, or building into others, then everyone wins.

So maybe the best way to prepare for Life 3.0 is to live Life 2.0 with intention. Build the life you’d want to keep living, even if the job disappears tomorrow.

Because the truth is, you don’t just stumble into meaning. You practice it.

We live in a time where our brains are trained to chase certainty, but the truth often requires us to hold two conflicting ideas at once. That’s called cognitive dissonance, and it might be one of the most important skills for thriving today.

Two writers I admire, Scott Galloway and Morgan Housel, helped me sit with this tension.

Scott Galloway: The Case for Pessimism (even though he is a pretty optimistic guy)

Scott Galloway, NYU professor, author, and entrepreneur, often reminds us that today’s young people face unprecedented headwinds. Using 1987 (the year he graduated college) as a baseline, he shows how much harder the path has become:

Avg. admission rate at top schools: 27% → 6%

College debt as % of first-year income: 31% → 53%

House price-to-income ratio: 4.4x → 8.5x

Wages haven’t kept pace with inflation (especially for low and middle income)

His point is sobering: this could be the first generation in modern U.S. history where children are not better off than their parents.

Morgan Housel: The Case for Optimism

Morgan Housel, author of The Psychology of Money, reminds us that discontent isn’t always about absolute reality, it’s about expectations.

We look back on the 1950s as a Golden Age, but the facts tell a different story: the average American home was under 1,000 square feet, air conditioning was rare, medical care was primitive by today’s standards, and most families had one car, if any.

By nearly every measure, healthcare, safety, technology, convenience, life is better today than it has ever been. Yet, as Housel puts it, “your expectations grow faster than your income.” We feel poor not by reality, but by comparison.

How Can Both Be True? That’s the paradox.

Galloway is right: Relative to their parents, today’s young adults face a steeper climb.

Housel is right: Relative to history, we’re richer than ever.

Progress has raised the floor but also lifted the ceiling out of reach. Young people aren’t starving, but they’re staring up at lifestyles that feel unattainable.

The Takeaway

We don’t have to pick a side. The healthiest posture may be to live inside the tension: to acknowledge the structural challenges while also practicing gratitude for the abundance we enjoy.

Progress and struggle coexist. Gratitude and realism are not opposites. And maybe teaching ourselves and our kids to hold both truths is the most valuable education we can offer.

Some team members believe that detailing every obstacle makes them appear smart. But to an entrepreneur, that’s usually exhausting and unproductive. They’re not begging for a list of roadblocks, they want someone who says, “I got this,” and delivers. Because there’s no proven benefit to analyzing problems beyond defining them. Action does the solving, and solutions move the needle.

Cue RSF: Relentless Solution Focus, this is my favorite mental model from Dr. Jason Selk. My favorite problems are the ones I never even knew about, because a teammate already solved them.

Introducing Dr. Jason Selk’s RSF (Relentless Solution Focus):

Jason Selk’s RSF is a simple but transformational mental framework:

1. Recognize: Catch yourself when you’re slipping into negative thinking or over-focusing on the problem.

2. Replace: In 60 seconds, shift from the problem to a solution-oriented question, “What is one thing I can do right now to make this better?” (The key is putting a 60 second limit on talking about the problem. How many meetings have we all been in where entire meetings were spent complaining about the problem with no solution in sight?).

3. Retrain: Practice this consistently. Even a few minutes per day can rewire your brain to default toward solutions (RSF tools like a Success Log take less than three minutes).

Why the 60-second window? Because staying stuck in a problem triggers cortisol, a stress hormone, which impairs creativity, confidence, and performance. Interrupting that dip with a solution-oriented thought prevents the downward spiral.

Why RSF Works for Entrepreneurs

• Empowers action. You don’t need another breakdown of obstacles, you need someone who can pivot and tackle them.

• Builds confidence. The mindset of “find a fix” reinforces ownership, trust, and results.

• Beats perfection. RSF favors incremental progress over paralysis by analysis.

• Trains resilience. With daily practice, even three minutes, you turn solution-focus into instinct.

Final Thought

There’s no evidence that endlessly talking about problems solves them. But there is evidence that with RSF, success becomes your default. In the face of uncertainty, pressure, or complexity, entrepreneurs don’t need problem experts, they need solution executors.