To Those Who Say “I Don’t Have to Work Another Day in My Life.”

⏱️ 4 min read

On a single morning dog walk, I heard two different hosts repeat the same line within forty minutes:

“I don’t have to work another day in my life.”

It’s a catchy line.

No wonder it’s become the go-to phrase for so many successful creatives, writers, advisors, freelancers—and even the lady running the laundry shop in my neighborhood (no, seriously, one shirt, washed and pressed, for eight euros…)

Lately, I hear it everywhere: podcasts, YouTube, and in the half-million books churned out by the newly-successful who double down on their fortune by publishing a book about how they got rich. (It’s a pathogen not yet recognized by the WHO but almost universal, especially among young millionaires.)

Still, the phrase isn’t without merit.

It resonates because it scratches a primal itch: freedom—of time, of place, of money. Who wouldn’t want to steer their own life? If you can, you stand the best chance of making every second matter. And isn’t that what this is all about?

Besides, nearly every hardship in life becomes more tolerable if money is no longer the worry.

All else being equal—health, family, friends, integrity—I’m as driven as anyone to pursue greater financial wealth. In fact, I’ll admit the arrogance of believing that money would be better invested and spent in my hands than in many others’.

My quarrel is not with the sentence at its best: the idea that someone has earned enough to cover their expenses without ever again trading time for tasks they don’t care about.

What bothers me is how lazily the line is often used.

The phrase only has power if it’s made clear that financial freedom is a means to strip away distractions, and focus on what matters most—what inspires, drives, and motivates. The same inspiration, drive, and motivation that should fill every second even while we are still deep in the pursuit of our own financial freedom.

In other words:

when it’s the consequence of an incurably goal-driven soul.

The moment the attention slides on the destination (wealth) per se or, even worse, when it feels like an hall pass to lean back and live a life of privilege and entertainment, the merits of the sentence collapse.

The aspirational turns hollow.

If your financial success is a story about how you’ve chased inspiration, fight, growth, giving, and creating meaning beyond yourself—and how you can now do even more of it, then I salute you—envy you.

Otherwise, frankly, it doesn’t matter to me. And when you flaunt it, it feels lazy—or worse, manipulative, a way to sell me your book or hook me into your podcast.

If what you really mean is, “I don’t have to be inspired another day in my life,” then… who cares?

L.F

(Read this article on Medium)

(#039) About Financial Freedom