Make Me Harder to Kill
Okaaaay, Chad. That’s certainly a measurable goal.
For me, the goal wasn’t quite so dramatic. Coming on fifty, it’s about time to add more try to my tricep. And return the six-pack that’s inside my stomach to the outside. The only thing I’ve been lifting regularly the past few years is my young kids and forks filled with meatballs, both of which I very much love. Thing is, my kids keep getting heavier while my gluttony regimen does not seem to be making me any stronger.
Which brings us to the Stubaby Wealth Indicator Matrix (SWIM). I started this parenting game at 44, so I’m working with a short deck. No complaints, mind you. But, as I see it, one of my primary measurements of success in life will be the amount of time I touch my children’s skin (substitute your spouse, parent, labradoodle, any living thing you love, here). The more I touch my boys (and wife and parents), the more stinking rich I will consider myself at the end of the line.
The SWIM measures real wealth dynamically based on the following question – When I’m 85 years old looking back at my life, what will have mattered?
Here are the criteria, in order of weighted importance:
1. Skin to skin time 2. Time laughing 3. Time helping others 4. Time in love and with people I love 5. Time learning/listening 6. Time in nature 7. Money in my IRA
Note where money falls in the list. I know what you’re saying, easy for the upper middle class dude to dismiss money since he has enough to pay his bills. Don’t get me wrong, I love money. Maybe it can’t buy happiness, but it does let you park your yacht right next to it. Still, I know too many hilariously rich miserable people. They simply forgot about numbers 1-6, which everyone has immediate access to.
So I’m gonna get fit, look better naked and live longer to up my SWIM score.
Oh … and I would like to be harder to kill.
A full-time dad on the houseboat before 2 kids & a real job hijacked my fitness, 2008