subject: The Road Less Travelled [print this page] The Road Less Travelled The Road Less Travelled
Things were going exactly as planned. I was graduating with my Bachelors degree in International Business from Pepperdine University. I already had a job offer for an analyst position at a very successful private equity firm. I was living in Malibu, making good money and everything was going according to plan. At 22 I was making more money than my dad had ever made. Every morning I would wake up to the American Dream.The office atmosphere was chaotic and exciting, as you would imagine when you put 12 guys in charge of billions of dollars. We would show up in our suit and tie. We would talk about the zeros in our paychecks and our next promotion. We would dream about our first, or second or third million. It all seemed predestined. The guys working there just a few years already drove late model Porsches, wore Rolexes and carried black American Express cards. They seemed to have everything money could buy, but yet they were still fighting traffic with the rest of us every Monday morning because there was always more money to be made.Don't get me wrong I love money. I love where it can take you and the comforts it can buy you. I am not one of those people who think that money is evil. In fact anyone who hates money most likely just doesn't have any. I did however start to think, how much money do I need? This is a very difficult question to answer for a 22-year-old fresh out of business school. In the end, I came to a logical plan of action.I quit. I walked away from the cash and the office with a view. I left behind the Malibu beach house and the stock options.Now I run my own small valet parking company in San Diego. I hire my friends and make my own hours. Mondays are no longer a tragic day and alarm clocks are not my enemy. I still wake up and put on a suit most mornings, but now it is a wetsuit instead of a business suit. I still live close to the beach but my house is a lot smaller now. My paychecks have shrunk but I smile more often.Sometimes I wonder what my bank account and my house would look like today. This only lasts until the next wave rolls in and I surf it to shore. I have traded in the American Dream for my dream. I might not have wealth and security but I am living life on my terms. I guess my dad, a carpenter on Maui, had it right the whole time.
