Cultivating a Rich Life

Learning to savor the flavor and create the life of my dreams

While listening to one of my favorite podcasts, What Fresh Hell: Laughing in the Face of Motherhood. I heard financial expert Ramit Sethi, a guest on the show, say something life-changing. Among the many jewels Ramit dropped during this interview, mostly financial advice, he asked a question that stayed with me.

Ramit asked, “What is your rich life?”. I sat with that question for a moment— I had no idea.

As I pondered Ramit’s words, the thought of living a rich life seemed unattainable for me. I guess I assumed this was as good as it will get.

I’ve lived in survival mode for so long, stretching my existence from one moment to the next. Hoping that one day things would somehow “work out” and I would reach the goals and dreams I once had for my life. Dreaming that, after achieving success (whatever that is), I would look back, seeing that all my toiling had been worth the effort. Never even considering the thought of having a rich life. Let alone my ability to cultivate such a life anytime soon.

It was sobering to realize that underneath my lack of vision for the future lies the fact that I never considered having a rich life because I never saw myself as worthy or capable of such a thing. I always assumed that kind of life was for someone else. Someone who had made all the right choices, and did all the right things, someone successful and accomplished, someone who wasn’t me.

I continued to ponder the question “What is your rich life?” I concluded that for me, a rich life isn’t about having a certain amount of money, but rather it is about the richness of my experiences. A rich life means a life well-lived.

When it comes to my career and my spiritual life, I have a clear picture of what I want to accomplish. I want to leave a legacy of servant leadership, compassion, and support. To have mentored young men and women, helping them to see their ability to make a difference in the lives of others. Most of all, as a Christian, I want to share God’s love with all I encounter, to ignite a desire within them to know him better.

In my regular daily life, however, the picture gets a little cloudy. Oh, I had dreams for sure, but the picture I’ve carried in my mind of what I wanted life to look like, even when I was younger, was not indicative of a rich life as I now understand it.

Early in our marriage, I would often say to my husband, “I don’t want to be rich, I just want to be comfortable.” Back then, I thought I had a firm grasp on what comfort was. Now, I was asking myself what being comfortable even means. Watching the years pass without seeing my dreams come to fruition taught me to dream a little smaller. After experiencing so much disappointment, it felt safer to have fewer expectations out of life.

My philosophy has been that the less I expect, the less risk I have of being disappointed.

But Ramit’s question got me thinking. That it may be time for me to change my perspective, maybe it’s time for me to permit myself to want more out of life than just survival. Even at the risk of disappointment, living a more fulfilling life may be worth the risk and effort.

I started to think long and hard about what I wanted from my life. I realized I want more peace, more joy, more adventure, more freedom, and I want to savor the simple pleasures of life. Instead of waiting for life to become all that I’d hoped it would be, I need to start cultivating the life I want for myself.

I love a vision board, so I started one and I titled it “my rich life”.

Photo by Jovan Vasiljević on Unsplash

The next day, while preparing to eat breakfast, I remembered the artisanal loaf of multigrain bread I had purchased. Normally, I’m not that extravagant, but the bread was on sale. The bread’s scent escaped the package as I opened it. I noticed its freshness; it smelled savory and nutty. I felt the texture, and it wasn’t too thick or too thin. It was firm on the outside but soft, chewy, and tender inside. I toasted the bread and smeared it with a little butter and Apricot Jam.

I took the first bite, and it was so good! I loved everything about this moment—and I wanted more.

I know to some, this may be toast and jam, but for me, I realized this is something I want in my life. To not have to wait for the good bread to be on sale, to have fresh-baked, good-quality bread and good jam for breakfast anytime I want. Then it hit me—this bread needed to be on my vision board.

So, I added “good bread with jam” to my vision board list.

Photo by Oksana Shufrych on Unsplash

The next day, I decided to have the same combo of toast and jam again, only this time, instead of my usual coffee, I was in the mood for a chai. Of all places, I’d found this small batch artisanal blend of masala chai at the dollar store, and it was spectacular. When I tell you how much joy I experienced having my chai with toast and jam, I was on cloud nine. It changed my mood and set the tone for my day.

Sitting there sipping my chai and savoring my toast and jam. I felt so peaceful. I wondered to myself out loud, “Why can’t every morning be like this?” I took my time, noticing every aspect of my meal. The sweet, spicy warmth of the chai paired excellently with the savory rustic bread and the sweetness of the jam. And you know what—that chai made it on my list of things I want to include in my rich life too.

Photo by Mae Mu on Unsplash

It wasn’t just about the breakfast; it was the realization that so much of the time, I feel too rushed to have breakfast. Many days, I’m so rushed that I often find myself in the nearest drive-thru, eating out of convenience and exhaustion rather than pleasure.

The phrase “grab a bite” isn’t just an expression for me; it has become a way of life.

Enjoying my breakfast required me to be intentional about making time for it. Time for breakfast is something I want from my rich life. I want to have time to slow down and enjoy the simple things. So much of my life is spent rushing—hurrying from place to place without allowing myself the opportunity to stop and appreciate life’s simplest pleasures, like the food I eat.

During the podcast interview, Ramit mentioned that he loved hearing what people enjoy spending money on. He said the most common thing people tell him they love to spend money on is eating well. This resonated with me: food represents so much more in my life than just sustenance. For me, food means family, creating memories, and it is a vehicle for experiencing other cultures.

Think back to the last thing you ate. How was it? What did you notice about it? What did you enjoy about it? Did you have a special connection with the person who prepared it? Think about how it made you feel.

One reason I derive so much joy from a great meal is the ones I share it with. I have many fond memories of eating at certain places that help me connect with my youth and that of my children. We often reminisce in my family about things that happened in our past during meals. Having dinner together means we will share funny stories, jokes, and lots of laughs.

Food not only nourishes our bodies; it feeds our souls. Food unites us, and for me, good food is part of my rich life.

Now that my children are grown, I cherish the meals we share. As they get older and start their own families and traditions, I know this part of our lives will change. I’ve decided to embrace whatever changes may come and to enjoy our time together. No strings attached.

I know what you’re thinking—there has to be more to my rich life than food, and you’re right.

The older I get, the more I'm learning to appreciate the time I have. I call this phase of life minding the gap. All we have is the dash—the space between our birth and the uncertain date of our passing—to make the most of this life. Now that I’ve reached midlife, I’m finding it’s a strange place to be in the world— suddenly I’m too old to be young and too young to be old. Once upon a time, I thought I had all the time in the world to do the things I wanted to do. Now—it feels like I’m running out of time.

I’ve often heard my mom say, “I’ve never seen a Brinks truck following behind a hearse.” In other words, what we have in this life, we can’t take with us. We must redeem our time and our treasures while we can, leaving nothing for later because later often never comes.

I thought about my last birthday, and how my family gave me many special gifts. It was truly a great day. I received gifts with flamingos (which they know I love), my husband got me a cool book I’ve been wanting to read, and I even received a fancy box of my favorite chocolates.

I realized I’ve been saving all these things, waiting for the perfect moment when everything would be just right.

I dreamed of creating an outdoor space where I could go to read and relax. I pictured myself sitting outside, surrounded by beautiful plants and flowers, shaded by our covered porch, the sun shining down. I imagined reclining in my chaise, sipping a refreshing, icy Arnold Palmer in my pink flamingo cup. I even had a little umbrella on top. There I’d be reading my new book, enjoying chocolates between laughs, and soaking in the peaceful surroundings.

Long story short—my outdoor reading space isn’t anywhere near ready. Not that I don’t still want to create it, but I asked myself why I was waiting for perfection to enjoy my gifts. Why was I denying myself the pleasure of living?

For over a month, each time I looked at the gift bags containing my book and chocolates, the feeling I got wasn’t the joy I had experienced when I received my gifts. Joy had been replaced with pressure. I started to feel fear—fear of going the entire summer without completing my outdoor oasis.

In my mind, everything needed to be perfect before I could enjoy my gifts. Thinking about it now, I see the ridiculousness of that belief.

So, I decided today is the day I’m going to start enjoying my gifts. As I was writing this, I opened my box of chocolates, savored their aroma, read the little insert describing their contents, and finally let myself enjoy them—an experience I found delightful.

Tomorrow, I’m planning to find a cozy spot anywhere I can to start reading my new book. I can’t wait! Saving the best for last or later robs us of the joy we can experience in the present. I decided that delaying joy is not part of my vision for a rich life. This doesn’t mean rushing things or making hasty decisions solely based on joy.

What it does mean is allowing myself to fully enjoy the gifts of life I’ve already received.

Photo by sooji min on Unsplash

Looking around my home, I saw dishes used only for special occasions, outfits, perfume, books, photo albums, and recipes gathering dust. I found old journals filled with untold stories and games no one has played in a dog’s age.

I decided I’m no longer going to save these items for later. Instead, I want to use them to cultivate my rich life—a life full of fun games played with loved ones, a life where I dress up for my enjoyment, try that complicated recipe I’ve been putting off, and share stories around the table. A life where I reach for photo albums and remember the stories behind each one for no special reason at all.

The items on my list so far don’t fully capture what I want from my rich life, but it’s a start. The things I have listed so far may not seem like much to most, but to me, they mean everything. My rich life is one that I want to be defined as having been well-lived, fully experienced, and thoroughly enjoyed—filled with great food, loving relationships, and new adventures.

A life not lived fully is a tragedy.

Our days can be wasted clinging to possessions, ideas, passions, and talents, always saving them for later, hoping something extraordinary will happen while we wait. That is a sad tableau indeed. If the best parts of us remain untapped, we risk reaching the end of our lives and realizing we missed the chance for greatness.