My Meditations
Lately, I’ve been meditating on this idea of the “paycheck” — not just the money I earn, but what it means to live by it, for it, or despite it.
Let’s be honest — I’m not really living paycheck to paycheck. But sometimes, it feels like I am. Not because the money isn’t enough, but because my mindset often makes it feel that way.
For years, I’ve lived below my means. Every purchase was a calculation — counting pennies in the cost, and counting pennies in my pocket. I’ve always believed that living cautiously was smart — that building a safety net was the mark of responsibility. And in some ways, it was.
Redefining “Paycheck to Paycheck”
To me, living paycheck to paycheck means spending what you earn with nothing left to save — and spending mostly on necessities. That was never my case. I’ve always saved. I’ve even splurged on quality things once in a while.
Except for that one stretch — from October 2021 to June 2022 — I’ve always been a big-time saver. I was living under my means, not just within them. And my reason was simple: I had seen days where one unexpected event could shake everything. That helplessness — the kind where you shed a quiet tear, wipe it, and move on — left a mark on me. So I built my walls of savings to feel safe.
The Irony of “Doing Everything Right”
I was doing all the things financial influencers preach:
✅ Saving
✅ Investing
✅ Budgeting
✅ Tracking
But somewhere along the way, I missed the joy part.
The “treat yourself” part.
The “celebrate small wins” part.
In my life, there was always a trade-off between money and happiness — and 95% of the time, I chose money. Looking back, I don’t regret choosing stability, but I do wish I had known other ways to find joy — like meditating, volunteering at the temple, or simply reading something that nourishes the soul.
The Question I Keep Asking
We’ve all read about delayed gratification — that the people who can wait, who can resist the short-term thrill, are the ones who make it big in life.
But today, as I reflect on my own choices, I find myself asking:
How much delay were those books really talking about?
Because sometimes, the line between discipline and deprivation gets blurry.
Maybe the real art isn’t in delaying joy — it’s in learning how to afford joy wisely.
