The Unknown Risk of Financial Independence, Retire Early (F.I.R.E.)
A Brief History of Retirement and the Risks I (Accidentally) Discovered
Financial Independence, Retire Early (FIRE) crept into mainstream a few years ago. Back then it seemed like a crazy idea that only an even crazier few attempted. Today, FIRE is a goal that so many people are striving for and achieving — now we seem a lot less crazy.
But why do we do it? What compels or motivates us? It’s simple: We want to escape the rat race of corporate life. We want to chase our dreams. We want freedom from crushing student loan debt. Many of us save 30%, 40%, and a rare few save up to 70% of our income for retirement! And we’re often willing to pull insane shifts at one, two, or three jobs to achieve our dreams.
If you’re chasing after FIRE there are five personality traits that are immediately recognizable and pervasive among us:
- Drive
- Passion
- Focus
- Commitment
- Planning
Planning is how this story starts: I had planned and saved like I was living in the Great Depression. There was no such thing as discretionary income. Rice, eggs, chicken, and frozen veggies comprised most of my meals. And it paid off. I was only 31, but I was free! I mean free free. Free as a bird. No debt. No obligations. Money in the bank, retirement, stocks, mutual funds, etc. And I had the motivation to travel the world and follow my passion: poker. I had planned it all out — Vegas, Macau, France, Australia. I started traveling and playing poker. I made it a small commitment at first, 25–30 hours per week. Then I built up to 30–40, finally 50 hours per week on the felt. Suddenly it was like work all over again. But now I was really exhausted. I thought I knew what I was getting into.
“Beware of false knowledge; it is more dangerous than ignorance.” - George Bernard Shaw
My solution: Well, if I was tired and retired, why not catch up on years of lost sleep? I did just that. I slept more than a narcoleptic in a sleeping gas factory. And it felt amazing! Then I kept at it. I lounged, napped, cooked food, napped, napped again, woke up so I could nap. Was this the good life? The life of a retiree?
Then life really started to change. I gained weight. I felt depressed. I lacked any real socialization because friends are usually in their prime earning years — making a living, having families, living the drudgery I escaped. This part of retirement was rough, brutal even. To say I was dysphoric is an understatement. I had no idea what to do. I even got to the point where I genuinely loathed myself. I hated seeing my own reflection in the mirror.
There were a plethora of events that made me change my outlook on what FIRE meant to me. It took a five figure poker loss (happened in one month); a last second trip to Amsterdam (booked four days before the flight); two dangerous encounters: one involving trying to save a gunshot victim’s life (he died as I tried to stop the bleeding); and the second: getting viciously attacked by a drunk homeless guy before I realized I needed to reevaluate my life. This is that change…
Watching someone die will rattle you. But not in the way I imagined. I locked myself in my friend’s apartment, and did a very serious and profound evaluation of myself, my choices, my life. I was somewhere between terrified and empowered. I was no longer loathing myself. I was no longer walking in a haze. I found my focus again because I literally saw how short life is — how quickly it ends. I determined that I needed to solve my problems with the same determination with which I approached early retirement. I was brutally honest. During this evaluation, I realized that for all my planning, drive, and motivation, I had never planned for what it meant to actually retire. I had a vague notion of what it meant: beaches, poker, living-it-up. But I failed. And I failed for a myriad of reasons. This, however, is how you can succeed where I failed:
- Routine: I found that I needed a routine to my life, and I committed to it in the best way I know how: I wrote it down. I set a workout schedule, a sleep schedule, a work schedule (Lyft), and poker schedule. Finally, I scheduled time with friends — I found the connection and engagement I needed most.
- Balance: I put a cap on any activity I chose to pursue. For example, I would only allow myself 12 hours per week of poker. I found it artificially curbed my natural tendency to push myself harder and harder. Furthermore, it made the passion and experience more pleasurable simply because it was less frequent.
- Reset: I learned to commit to one week per year where I go hiking, camping, fishing, and ‘outdoorsing’ with no more than 1 person. We turn off our phones and leave technology at home. We try to catch our food ( a comedy of errors). And we drink wine, enjoy nature, and tell stories around a campfire.
- Companionship: I found people who shared the same values. I carefully chose a few very close friends and loved ones and removed the rest of the noise from my life.
I hope you can use the above suggestions as you advance through your own FIRE. The solutions are unique to me, but universal in their application. I hope they help you avoid my experiences.
One final consideration: FIRE compels many of us to Retire Early with no plan to come out of retirement. I’m advocating for a slightly different approach: Retire Often. Call it FIRO. I’m now working for a few years with the plan to retire again for about a year. Then go back to work for a couple years, and retire again — rinse and repeat. Thus far it has been an eye opening experience, and I’ll share more as I learn.
Keep the FIRE burning!
