Note: The following article was published in the June 01 issue of Simplify Magazine.
Real financial freedom isn’t about affording everything—it’s about realizing you don’t need everything.
In 2008, Memorial Day weekend promised beautiful weather—not always the case in Vermont at that time of year. So my wife, Kim, and I decided to spend the Saturday doing some shopping, running errands, and tackling our spring cleaning. Our garage was the first target.
That morning, as Kim and our infant daughter slept in, I made breakfast for our five-year-old son, Salem, and then brought him outside to help. But as soon as we started pulling out the bins, he rediscovered his summer toys and ran for the backyard. Before leaving, he asked, “Will you play with me, Dad?”
“Not now, buddy. I’ll come play as soon as I finish, I promise.”
But as the hours wore on, that promise felt more and more out of reach. I was knee-deep in stuff—cleaning it, organizing it, moving it from one side of the driveway to the other. Salem returned a few more times, asking again and again for me to join him.
At one point, our neighbor June, an elderly woman with a garden trowel in hand, watched me struggling with the clutter. She smiled and said, “That’s why my daughter’s a minimalist. She keeps telling me I don’t need to own all this stuff.”
The sentence stopped me in my tracks.
I looked at the heap in the driveway. I looked at my son, alone in the backyard.
And I realized, for the first time, the stuff I owned wasn’t just taking up space in my garage. It was taking something far more valuable: my time, my energy, my attention—and in that moment, my opportunity to play catch with my son.
That was the beginning of a journey toward minimalism for our family. And that one realization didn’t just change the way we saw our home. It changed the way we saw everything, including money.
For many, financial independence is defined by the ability to buy whatever we want, whenever we want. A new car. A kitchen remodel. A spontaneous weekend trip. We equate freedom with consumption, assuming that if nothing is out of reach financially, then we must be doing well.
But what if we’ve been aiming at the wrong target?
What if real financial freedom isn’t found in the ability to buy anything but in the realization that we don’t need to?
That shift—simple but profound—has reshaped the way I think about money, success, and what it truly means to be financially free.
The Prosperity Paradox
Here’s the problem: the more money we have, the more money we think we need. The solution the world is offering—earn more and then one day you’ll feel secure—is the exact opposite of what we need.
This is what I call the Prosperity Paradox.
Our relationship with money is one of the most defining—and often confusing—relationships we have. We earn it, save it, spend it, chase it, worry about it, and sometimes even fight over it. Some describe money as a tool—and it is. But it is also something more. It is emotional, powerful, and deeply tied to our sense of well-being.
Consider this: 77% of people in the wealthiest country on earth report feeling anxious about money.[1] And more than 70% say their desire for more money influences their daily decisions.[2] That’s not just a tool. That’s something that touches our heart and mind in profound ways.
The Prosperity Paradox says this: The more money we have, the more money we believe we need.
This isn’t theory—it’s backed by data. Empower recently surveyed Americans and found that those making over $200,000 a year said they would need an additional $150,000 annually to feel financially comfortable.[3] Charles Schwab, in another study, found that 87% of millionaires don’t consider themselves wealthy.[4]
We can see this in how people define what it means to be “rich.” For many, the word “millionaire” signals success. But the closer one gets to that number, the less likely they are to view it as true wealth. In fact, millionaire status is now considered by many to be “just getting started.”
This paradox plays out again and again: retirement targets growing as net worth increases, happiness tied to ever-larger income brackets, and comfort levels that seem always out of reach. The more we accumulate, the more we convince ourselves we need.
Even John D. Rockefeller, once the richest man in the world, when asked how much money is enough, famously replied, “Just a little bit more.”
If our goal to achieve financial freedom is simply to accumulate more money, we will never arrive. The finish line keeps moving.
That’s why this realization—that needing less is more powerful than earning more—changes everything.
Becoming Minimalist
But that raises the important question: if the common approach to financial independence doesn’t deliver on its promise, what does?
For me, the answer came that very weekend in 2008, when my neighbor June introduced me—almost accidentally—to the idea of minimalism. Her words sparked a realization that would change the way I viewed not just my possessions, but money itself.
Real freedom doesn’t come from purchasing power—it comes from the realization that we don’t need more in the first place. And once we stop needing more, we stop spending more. That’s when everything changes. That’s when peace and clarity show up—not in having more, but in finally wanting less.
When we own less, we begin to see how little we truly need. And when we stop needing more, we stop spending more. Suddenly, financial independence doesn’t feel like something reserved for the wealthy—it feels possible, right now, with what we already have.
Minimalism helped reveal this truth to me. The less I owned, the less I needed. The less I needed, the less I spent. The less I spent, the freer I felt. And with every unnecessary item I removed from my home, I began to remove financial pressure from my life.
Abundance in Less
It’s understandable why “spend less” is a hard sell. For most of our lives, we’ve been conditioned to think that spending less is a sacrifice. In a culture that defines success by accumulation, the idea of buying less sounds like going backward.
That’s certainly what I used to believe—until I actually tried it.
I made the intentional decision to own less and buy less. And it remains one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. It didn’t just improve my finances; it improved nearly every part of my life.
Owning less meant fewer things to clean, maintain, insure, and replace. It meant fewer distractions and more focus. And it meant I could put my time, money, and energy toward the things that actually matter.
Life didn’t get smaller when I started spending less. It got bigger.
I had more freedom, not less. More clarity. More purpose. And I found myself more present in the things that bring lasting fulfillment—my family, my faith, and the opportunity to help others.
In short, spending less didn’t feel like I was depriving myself. It felt like I was discovering greater abundance—in the truest sense of the word.
And here’s what’s most important: this isn’t just possible for a few. It’s available to all of us.
Financial freedom doesn’t begin with acquiring more money. It begs with having less desire for money.
Becoming Content
This isn’t to suggest that money doesn’t matter. It does. Money provides shelter, food, warmth, and care. It can be used to do good in the world. It can bring stability and security.
But money alone doesn’t bring freedom. Contentment does.
The Harvard Business Review published a study by Ashley Whillans showing that people who prioritize time over money report significantly greater well-being—more fulfilling relationships, more joy, and more satisfaction. Contentment, not accumulation, is the key.[5]
Contentment isn’t about settling for less. It’s about appreciating what already is. It allows us to stop chasing “more” and start building a life that aligns with what matters most.
Here are some principles that can help bring this new vision of financial independence closer:
Define what is truly “enough.” Rather than letting culture or comparison dictate our financial goals, we can take time to define what we genuinely need to live a meaningful life. And often that number is far less than expected.
Lower fixed costs where possible. Housing and transportation are two of the largest expenses for most households. Downsizing or driving a paid-off car can create breathing room in the budget—and in the soul.
Break the habit of lifestyle inflation. When income increases, it’s easy to spend more. But each upgrade delays freedom. Choosing instead to let increased income create margin, not upgrades, moves us closer to peace.
Find joy in simplicity. A home-cooked meal, a walk around the block, a quiet evening—these are often the richest moments. And they don’t cost very much.
Be generous. Generosity interrupts the cycle of always needing more. It reminds us that abundance is not about accumulation but about impact. And it grows contentment every time it’s practiced.
Avoid the comparison trap. Someone else will always have more. But comparison is a thief—of joy, of gratitude, and of purpose. Financial independence isn’t about outperforming others. It’s about being free from the need to.
Make a Choice
When we stop tying freedom to a number and begin tying it to values, everything begins to shift. We stop asking, “How much do I need to be free?” and start asking, “What can I remove that’s keeping me from freedom today?” That’s the realization that changes everything.
Financial independence becomes less about someday and more about today. It becomes less about stock market returns and more about a satisfied heart. It becomes less about accumulation and more about intentionality. And slowly we begin to see that maybe the finish line was closer than we thought.
In the end, we all want the same thing: to live with peace, to care for the people we love, and to spend our days on what matters most. And maybe—just maybe—that future begins not with a raise or a windfall but with a decision. To own less. To want less. And to walk in freedom now, not later.
