One of the biggest questions anyone pursuing FIRE has to contemplate is what’s “enough” for them. That is, what type of lifestyle they want to live post-FIRE. Once that’s decided, then comes the task of figuring out what it’ll take to fund said lifestyle.
Many hands have been wrung considering the “enough” question. Brows furrowed, too. And bazillions of bits and bytes sacrificed to blog posts and articles chewing over the questions. A few of the dozen or two cells making up my brain have burned up considering it, too.
Now and when
I suspect that for many people pursuing FIRE, settling on what’s “enough” and determining the numbers required to meet it answers the related “when” question. That is, when one can “safely” pull the trigger on FIREing. After all, once the math works out (with whatever safety net you want to include) you have reason to believe yourself good to go.
Technically, that’s true. But I suspect everyone has at least some doubt when comes the time to actually pull that trigger. I mean, who’s to say an unprecedented curveball doesn’t get thrown at you and all your best-laid plans go to pot. Or maybe this whole FIRE thing is a scam. Some reasonable leap of faith therefore is necessary.
Having declared at the beginning of 2021 that I plan to FIRE at the end of the year, I planned to take such a leap of faith. But I admit to since having felt more uncertainty than I thought I would. Or, indeed, that I think I should have.
My decision mostly felt right. Certainly right enough that I didn’t seriously consider changing my mind. But something I couldn’t pinpoint seemed to niggle at me. I’d thought maybe it was my brain being a mischievous devil and thinking the possibility that this bull market we’ve experienced is long since past time to end and that the world is fundamentally changing in unprecedented ways. Or that the “transitory” period of higher inflation we’ve experienced this year and that looks set to continue for some time might cause far bigger problems than I’d figured. Or that post-FIRE sources of revenue that we might enjoy might not be what I plan for them to be. Or some or all of the above.
No, I kept thinking. Those are all factors I’ve long considered and taken into account in our planning. And besides, I have faith that things (eventually) will continue their positive trajectory and that the world isn’t fundamentally changing such that it makes a mockery of my plans. And/or that I can effectively pivot and manage (or, at least muddle through) any challenges.
But still, there was that niggling doubt.
Until recently.
No doubt
I’ll set the stage for you. I’ve got several work projects going on right now. Most are bigger than the typical project I handle. Each also has at least one major element that I’ve either never directly had to address, or that have several moving parts. All of this has required kicking my brain into a more advanced gear. And lots of work to boot.
Can I handle all this? Yeah, I can. I’ve got gobs of experience doing as much. A younger and/or more ambitious version of me might even have relished each and all of the challenges. And the opportunity to demonstrate my worth, too.
But do I now want to handle all of this, in terms of individual projects as well as the whole of them? And am I that alternative version of myself? The answer to both questions, it dawned on me, is an emphatic “no.”
On the one hand, I found these realizations a bit sad. After all, I’ve always prided myself on being an overachiever who does whatever it takes to get the job done. And I’ve been doing what I do, in the same industry, with the same types of people, for decades.
But what I simultaneously realized was that I think the lingering doubt that’s been niggling at me all year wasn’t going away because my brain hadn’t accepted and/or made peace with the fact that when I FIRE, I’ll be closing out a major chapter of my life. This epiphany did the trick. It didn’t just zap any sadness I felt, it set my mind at ease that I’m doing the right thing.
All I kept thinking was, “It’s time. I know it’s time.”
And in the end . . .
I’m now wholly at peace with the fact that this chapter of my life is coming to an end. That’s made all the difference.
It’s a good feeling.
Good for you. And it’s not an irreversible decision. I never was tempted to go back to a 9 to 5, even when offered multiples of my former wages. But the offers kept coming in so I knew I could, and still could. You won’t likely go back either by you will certainly have the option, and that’s comforting.
Thanks for the valuable insight! I’m very much looking forward to the next chapter and seeing how this all plays out.
Excited for you to pull the plug FFTP.
Although I believe, I’m a relatively younger version of you. I’m experiencing the same thing (somewhat writing a post on it). It’s kind of a bizarre process realizing you are not what you once were, or more aptly, don’t need to accomplish the same grinding career leaps as comrades drool over. Instead, all you desire is to get out. A little more choice. A little more options. A quieter perch to decide how to watch the waves of time ride by.
I’m curious, has it ever been tough because you can’t talk to many people about it? Or maybe you can. I’ve found it challenging at times for myself not being able to tell even an inkling of the truth in the corporate realm.
I’m going through this succession planning exercise right now and nodding along even though inside I’m like you guys are lucky if you even get a few more years out of me… hahaha. Not that I’d leave anyone high and dry or try to screw the company, but when I hit enough, I’m two fingers to the wind.
Congrats again on slowly closing one chapter and onto another…
Hopefully you keep up the writing and sharing your new adventures.
Thanks, Q-FI. I’ve been reading your blog regulary and can sort of tell you’re a younger (also, likely smarter, more handsome, stronger, . . . .) version of me. As for whether it’s ever been tough for me that I can’t talk to many people about it, that’s a bit of a tricky question. When I first discovered FIRE, I took the everyone-should-know-about-this approach, which included me mentioning to several collaegues, friends, and family that I was pursuing FIRE. Essentially no one was materially interested and I’m sure almost all of them have long since forgot what I’m doing.
At this point, only my wife and a small group of friends know I’m FIREing at the end of the year. In about a month, I plan to tell my colleagues that I’m “taking a sabbatical”; I’m not positioning it to them that I’m FIREing. Some whom I’d told years ago that I’m pursuing FIRE might put 2 and 2 together. But I’m not gonna do that for them. Either way, I’m all but certain their jaws will drop through the floor when I deliver the news.
I do wish that I had more people I could talk about this with tho. I’d love for it to be a celebratory thing, and for there to be enthusiasm and cheering like there is amongst the FIRE community. I’m a bit sad that it won’t be this way. I might have to go to a FIRE community meetup to get my fix.
As for you and the succession plannning exercise, good luck biting your lip. I actually had a somewhat related meeting yesterday in which I thought I might have to bite my own lip. Thankfully, I avoided it.
Good for you. I’m glad you’ve reached that point and that you’re sticking with it. That must feel amazing, and I’m super jealous. My husband and I were just talking the other day about how, when it comes down to it, it’s going to be tough to walk away from that giant monthly paycheck, no matter how robust our investments and retirement savings. There’s a lot of security in it. But you make a great point in that it’s definitely not hard to walk away from the shitty work. Guess we need to focus on that instead.
Walking away from the monthly paycheck I’ve known for so long won’t be easy for me for sure. I’m also sure that once I actually experience a missed would-have-been payday, it’ll hit me even harder. Good chance it’ll freak me out, too. I’m hoping that this epiphany I had will mitigate or eliminate that tho.