There’s no shortage of things to worry about in today’s world. We have access to more information than ever, which means we’re exposed to scary stuff all the time. Headlines are written to make us feel alarmed enough to click.
That stuff can be a bit unnerving.
Today I’m thinking about what’s got me worried about my own future. AI. Potential market collapse. Aging. Losing someone close to me. Making a big financial blunder. Each is probably deserving of its own post.
My natural tendency is to be a worrier. Something I inherited from my mom. If I tell her Jamie and I are excited about an upcoming trip to a new place, her first reaction is not “Oh, how exciting.” It’s more along the lines of “don’t get robbed or die.” She would put it a little more nuanced than that of course but the concern was noted.
She’s just worried about me and wants to remind me of every possible danger as a way to protect me. She’ll also be the first one wanting to hear about the trip once I’m back and “safe”.
When my mom turned 70, Jamie and I offered to take her to Paris. Her dream had always been dinner at the Eiffel Tower.
She was shocked and excited. Within a few days, though, the excitement faded and the worry took over. She had recent questions about her health and concerns about being that far from her doctors. She worried about getting around a city where she didn’t speak the language, especially if there was a medical emergency.
Eventually, she told us she didn’t think she could do it.
So we changed the plan.
We took her to a white-sand beach in Florida instead. Another lifelong dream of hers she had yet to experience.
I’m sure she still had plenty to worry about. But it didn’t consume her. She looked forward to the trip and was able to be fully present when we were there.
There was also the surprise bonus of her and my dad receiving a free room upgrade. The resort upgraded my parents’ room to a massive suite overlooking a lagoon. I joined them each morning on their extra-sized balcony to watch the sunrise together and say hello to a visiting manatee, whom we named Gus.
My parents have planned a trip back every year since and have sent me photos of Gus and his manatee family, who still visit in the mornings.
Who knows if the trip to Paris or Florida would have been the better trip. I’m simply thankful we were able to create lasting memories and share that experience together.
There’s a version where worry and concerns could have prevented any trip at all. It pushes those moments from today, to someday, to a day that never comes.
There is a time to worry. But there is also a problem with worrying obsessively. When it goes from smart to a problem is up for interpretation.
I think of it this way: Did the worry just change the plan or did it erase what mattered?
Plans are negotiable. What matters shouldn’t be surrendered without a fight.
My mom may never have dinner at the Eiffel Tower. Time will tell. But she has gotten to collect more Florida seashells than any person could ever need. And Jamie and I hope to join her and my dad again on a future trip back for more.
Her worry vetoed the original plan, but not the experience we hoped to share. What mattered survived. We found a version where I’m sure there was still some worry, but it could be lived with.
The same thing happens with money.
My own worry about a market collapse doesn’t mean I have to swear off investing. There’s a Florida-beach version of a portfolio out there.
It might mean spreading investments across a broad index fund instead of betting on a handful of stocks, so no single company can sink the plan. It might mean a more conservative mix, trading some potential return for swings I can sleep through. It might mean a larger cash cushion, so a downturn is something I can wait out rather than react to. Or it might mean automatic contributions that continue whether the market is rising or falling, so I never have to decide if this is the right or wrong time to buy.
Any one of those can turn a worry that says “stay out entirely” into a plan that allows me to invest without being consumed by everything that could go wrong.
Sometimes worrying protects us from taking risks we don’t need to take. But letting it keep us from the things we care about or consistently steer us away from the decisions that would otherwise serve us well deserves its own concern.
A little worry belongs in each of our FI equations. It can change the route, the pace, or the amount of risk we are willing to take. It just shouldn’t be allowed to solve the equation for us. Don’t let worry erase the life you are trying to build.
So what’s got you worried these days? Hit reply or add a comment and tell me. I read every one, and some of them may turn into future posts.
— Brad
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This is meant to help you think through financial decisions and tradeoffs—not tell you exactly what to do. It’s general in nature and not personalized advice (see full disclaimer).