
Why Money is a Terrible Measure of Wealth
We spend our days tracing the same paths. From the bed to the kettle, to the school run, to the desk, and back again. We watch the numbers in our accounts, willing them to grow, believing that the summit of that digital mountain is where we’ll finally find the good life. We’re taught, from a very young age, that security is a figure. That success is a tangible thing you can count and hold.
But there’s a quiet hum underneath all that counting. A feeling you get on a Sunday evening, looking out at the fading light. It’s not about what you have, but about what you’ve lived. That trip you took with your cousins years ago, the one you still laugh about. The taste of a specific meal from your mother’s kitchen, a taste that no restaurant, no matter how fancy, can ever replicate. The way the air felt on that morning you watched the sunrise from the top of a hill you’d just climbed.
That indelible mark on your spirit, is the echo of a different kind of investment. It’s the return on an investment in a currency that never devalues: lived experience.
The Broken Calculator
We’ve been sold a story, one where the final chapter is a comfortable retirement, a nice car, a house. And these things aren’t bad. Not at all. They provide comfort and stability. The problem starts when we mistake the props for the play itself. The house is just a setting; the life lived inside its walls is the real story.
Think about it. When was the last time you sat with an elder and they regaled you with the story of their stellar credit score? Or the time they finally paid off their car loan? It doesn’t happen. The stories that get passed down, the ones that weave the fabric of a family, are about the struggles, the journeys, the triumphs of the human spirit. They’re about the time everyone got lost on the way to a wedding and ended up discovering a beautiful, hidden beach. They’re about the laughter that filled the room during a blackout, lit only by candles and conversation.
Money is a tool. A powerful one, for sure. It can buy a comfortable bed, but it can’t buy a good night’s sleep. It can buy a feast, but it can’t buy the appetite or the company that makes the meal memorable. It can buy a television, but it can’t buy a story worth telling. When we focus only on accumulating the tool, we forget to build anything meaningful with it.
The Science of Satisfaction
Science has been peeking into our brains, trying to understand what truly makes us happy. The findings are clear and they side decisively with the experience.
The Happiness Echo: Researchers have found that when people spend money on an experience, a music festival, a pottery class, a weekend getaway, the happiness it generates is more enduring. A new phone is exciting for a week, maybe two. Then it becomes just another thing. But the memory of that festival? The feeling of the bass in your chest, the shared joy with strangers, the song that became your anthem that summer? That doesn’t get old. You can recall it years later and still feel a flicker of that joy. The experience appreciates in your memory, becoming richer and more valuable with time.
The Social Glue: Experiences are inherently social. They connect us. You might buy a new phone for yourself, but you’re far more likely to share a trip, a meal, or a concert with others. These shared adventures become part of your shared identity. They create inside jokes, stories that start with “Remember that time…”, and a bond that is strengthened by a common memory. This social connection is one of the most fundamental predictors of a long, happy, and healthy life. You’re literally investing in your relationships.
The Story of You: Material possessions are just… things. They don’t say much about who you are. But your experiences? They become the chapters of your autobiography. Learning to surf at forty tells a story of resilience. Volunteering at a community garden speaks of connection and care. Traveling to a new region and immersing yourself in the culture shapes your worldview. Experiences don’t just fill your life; they define it. They are the bricks and mortar of your identity.
From Saving to Living
Okay, so experiences are great. But how do you “invest” in them without throwing financial sense out the window? It’s about a shift in perspective, not a abandonment of responsibility. It’s about reallocating your resources, both time and money, towards what truly yields a return.
This is where a shift in mindset is crucial. Instead of seeing a vacation as an expense, see it as a capital investment in your family’s well-being and shared history. Instead of viewing the cost of a cooking class as money gone, see it as acquiring a skill and a memory that will pay you back in delicious meals and personal satisfaction for years.
Here’s how to start making this shift practical:
Audit Your Spending. Look at your last three months of expenses. How much went towards temporary pleasures. takeaway food you don’t remember, subscription services you barely use, impulse buys that cluttered your space? Now, imagine if just a fraction of that was redirected into a “Life Experiences” fund. It’s not about earning more but more intentional spending on what matters.
Plan for Memory. We save for retirement, for a child’s education, for a new roof. Why not save for a memory? Open a separate little pot, physical or digital, and label it “Adventure Fund” or “Family Trip.” Watching that fund grow becomes an exciting activity in itself, building anticipation, which is a huge part of the joy of any experience.
Think Proximity, Not Just Paradise. An investment in experience doesn’t have to be a plane ticket to another continent. It can be a tank of fuel for a road trip to a town you’ve never visited. It can be tickets to a local play or sporting event. It can be signing up for a weekly dance class with a friend. The scale is less important than the substance.
The Portfolio That Matters
So, what does a diverse portfolio of life experiences look like? It’s a mix of the big, the small, the challenging, and the comforting.
The Skill Investment: Learning to play an instrument, speak a new language, or build a piece of furniture. The payoff isn't just the skill itself, but the immense satisfaction of overcoming a challenge and the confidence that seeps into other areas of your life.
The Connection Investment: That planned weekend where phones are away and the focus is on board games, long walks, and real conversation with family. Or a reunion with old friends you haven’t seen in years. The dividend is a strengthened bond, a renewed sense of belonging.
The Adventure Investment: This is the one that gets the heart pumping. Hiking a challenging trail, trying an extreme sport, or traveling to a place with a completely different culture. The return is a expanded sense of self, stories of endurance, and the knowledge that you are capable of more than you thought.
The Contribution Investment: Volunteering your time for a cause you care about. Helping a neighbour build a fence. Mentoring a young person. This investment pays a unique dividend: a profound sense of purpose and the warm glow of having made a tangible difference in someone else’s world.
A relative, once spent a significant amount to take the entire family on a trip to the village For the younger ones, it was an adventure. For the elders, it was a pilgrimage. They pointed out the trees they climbed as children, the stream where they fetched water, the old schoolhouse. The stories flowed like a river. That trip didn’t add a single digit to their bank balance. But it added an immeasurable depth to our family’s story. It was, by any measure, one of the best investments they ever made.
You May Ask
Isn't this just an excuse for irresponsible spending?
Not at all. Irresponsible spending is buying things you don’t need with money you don’t have, driven by impulse. Investing in experiences is an intentional act. It’s planning, saving for, and consciously choosing to use your resources to create lasting value in the form of memory, skill, and connection. It’s the opposite of frivolous; it’s deeply purposeful.
What if I really don't have the money for big trips?
The biggest misconception is that experiences have to be expensive. Some of the richest experiences are nearly free. A picnic in a new park is an experience. Spending an afternoon teaching your child how to fly a kite is an experience. Visiting a free museum exhibition is an experience. It’s about breaking the routine and creating a special memory, not about the price tag.
How do I convince my partner or family who are very focused on saving?
Frame it in a language they understand: investment and returns. Talk about the return on investment for your family’s happiness and cohesion. Suggest a small, trial experience first—a day trip instead of a week-long vacation. Often, the joy and connection that comes from that small investment will be the most convincing argument for doing it again.
Don't material things last longer?
Does a sofa last longer than a holiday? In a physical sense, yes. But which one has a more lasting impact on your life? The sofa will wear out, stain, and eventually be replaced. The holiday becomes a part of you. You’ll recall a view from that trip during a stressful day at work years later, and it will calm you. The sofa just offers a place to sit. The physical object decays; the memory is polished with each retelling.
Aren't experiences just as consumerist as buying things?
They can be, if done without intention. A whirlwind tour of ten cities in seven days just to tick boxes is the experiential equivalent of mindless shopping. The key is depth over breadth. Choose one place, immerse yourself, connect with the people and the culture. It’s the quality and depth of the engagement that separates a true, enriching experience from mere consumption.
The Final Balance Sheet
At the end of our days, we won’t be conducting a final audit of our bank statements. The final balance sheet won’t list our assets and liabilities in financial terms. It will be a tally of moments that took our breath away. Of laughter that made our sides ache. Of challenges that made us stronger. Of connections that made us feel seen and loved.
The money we earn, save, and invest is important. It keeps the lights on and provides a foundation. But it is the experiences we fund with that money, the journeys, the learnings, the shared meals, the conquered fears, that build the house of a life well-lived upon that foundation.
So, by all means, be smart with your money. Plan for the future. But remember to allocate a generous portion of your resources, your time, your attention, and yes, some of your cash, to the only investment that truly appreciates forever: the wealth of a life richly experienced.
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