The Most Frightening Numbers Do Not Appear After The $.
Nightmares do come along when the string of numbers behind the $ is short. However, is that the only scary thing? I think there are more.

Everything in modern civilization is benchmarked against our bank account. The longer that string of numbers behind the $, the better we feel. We become more confident. Apparently, increasing our net worth by a 0 before the decimal place increases our aesthetic appeal.
The opposite is true. Having double or triple digits behind the $ in our bank account makes us feel terrible. I guarantee others will chirp in to make us feel worse.
That said, the money story is not the only story told in quantitative terms. Other units of measure, when contextualized appropriately, can be dwarf the monetary narrative.
Take, for instance, time.
I am not advocating that time is the only asset we cannot buy back in this story, even if that is true. What I want to do is to contextualize long durations of time. That means the following.
- We spend the first 20–25 years of our life in education.
- We spend the next 30–40 years of our life working and possibly saving for our retirement.
- We spend the final 20–25 years of our life regretting what we never do.
That. Freaks me out.
I am constantly asking myself if I am doing what I want to do. It is important because one incident hit me hard.
I was out at a Home for the Aged. As I was distributing food to the elders, I came by a 90-years old elder who is sitting in his wheelchair looking for a conversation.
I stopped to converse.
He was filled with grudges. I will not drown you with the details, Simply put, he basically blasted at me for the miserable life that he had.
A course of study that was forced onto him, a job that he hated and couldn’t leave because of bills, marrying the woman he never loved (matchmaking, people), taking care of his kids only to have them abandon him because he got too expensive.
It hit me at my heart.
Then, I cannot help but sympathize with him. He is living in a compact body filled with 90 years of experience embodied by a mixed bag of neverending regrets and infinite hatred.
My shit pooped on my pants. I mean, figuratively.
Am I going to sound the same some 50 plus years from now, assuming that I am living then?
No, I don’t want to. And because of that, I need to dial in and listen to my inner voice. Listen clearly to what I want to pursue and achieve in this lifetime.
No matter how crazy my pursuits in life are, it beats sitting and lamenting about my life when I can no longer do anything for myself.
From that sense, even 90 years of living experience is too short.
Every single day has to count.
We have to count the right thing. Money is one, and just one of the many. How we spend our time is another one worth counting and reflecting upon.
Don’t you think so?
Numbers matter. What do you count?
Aldric
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